The night was cool and silent, the sky adorned with a tapestry of stars. The villagers had long since drifted off to their respective dreams. Pale moonlight spilled down, illuminating Aites's handsome face.
Aites lay on the roof with his hands behind his head, staring at the crescent moon in the night sky, lost in thought.
He had spent the entire afternoon training, but he knew that simply doing basic physical exercises would never be enough to become truly strong. So, he was contemplating his future path of cultivation.
Devil Fruits?
Devil Fruits were miraculous items in the world of One Piece, capable of granting their users incredible powers—superpowers, as they were called in his previous life. Aites was quite curious about them.
But Devil Fruits were rare and unpredictable. They were mostly found on the Grand Line. Furthermore, their powers varied in strength. He had no interest in the weaker ones, and as for the stronger ones, he was currently in the East Blue and far too weak. He'd probably be knocked out before he even made it out of the sea.
Body Arts?
In truth, focusing on physical techniques was also an excellent choice. Trained to its peak, it was in no way inferior to Devil Fruit abilities, and when combined with Haki, it could even surpass them.
Take his cheap old dad, Garp, for example.
He was a man who had cultivated his body arts to the absolute pinnacle. No matter the technique, no matter the scheme or plot, he could shatter it all with a single punch, clean and decisive.
Moreover, Aites was only six years old. He had plenty of room to grow, and body arts yielded the best results when trained from a young age.
The only problem was that Garp usually lived at Marine Headquarters. There was no telling when he would be back, and Aites didn't want to waste a single moment of opportunity to get stronger.
By that calculation, there was only one path of training left: swordsmanship.
The sword was the king of blades, the ancestor of all short weapons. It was a common weapon in both his past life and the current world of One Piece.
And in the world of One Piece, there was no shortage of swordsmen. The strongest among them could, at the highest levels of their training, cleave mountains, shatter rock, sunder steel, and split the very seas.
Aites also had a fondness for the sword. Compared to the chaotic mess of Devil Fruit powers, he preferred the clean satisfaction of cutting down any and all evil with a single stroke. It had the feeling of one sword breaking all techniques.
Aites returned to his senses. He had made his decision. He would practice the art of the sword.
When Aites decided on something, he acted on it. He was not one to procrastinate.
He climbed down from the roof, carefully tiptoed past Slap, and lay down on his bed, planning to begin his swordsmanship training the very next day.
The next day.
When Slap woke up, he found that Aites was already gone. Seeing this, he didn't say anything. He knew Aites had a habit of waking up early and figured he had probably run off to train again.
In a clearing in the mountains behind Windmill Village, Aites stood with a short wooden sword, about 50 centimeters long, in his hand. It was the perfect length for his six-year-old body—not too long, not too short.
Because most of the residents of Windmill Village were farmers, they only had tools for making fishing gear and nets; there was no blacksmith. So, Aites had spent some time making a simple wooden sword for himself.
In this world, the realms of swordsmanship were divided into three: Swordsman, Sword Master, and Great Sword Master.
One who had mastered all the fundamentals of sword techniques was considered a Swordsman.
One who could perceive the "breath" of all things and project slashes of energy was considered a Sword Master.
And one who was no longer bound by forms, who could unleash a colossal slash with a single swing, was considered a Great Sword Master.
This was Aites's understanding of the swordsmanship ranks in the world of One Piece. However, all of that was still a distant dream. Right now, Aites couldn't even be called a Swordsman.
Without a master to guide him, Aites could only rely on the memories of his past life to train himself. Although he had never practiced swordsmanship before, he'd seen it done enough times.
At his university in his past life, there had been some upperclassmen who were fans of Japanese kendo, and Aites had once worked odd jobs for their club.
Not only that, but in his spare time, he hadn't just watched One Piece; he had read many other comics, plenty of which involved sword training.
But for beginners, the starting point was always the same: basic swordsmanship.
One should never look down on the basics. Many powerful sword techniques were derived from them. Aites understood the principle that the tallest towers are built from the ground up.
Having clarified his path forward, Aites began training immediately without hesitation. He drew upon his memories from his past life and started to practice his grip and stance.
Once his stance was set, Aites began his swordsmanship practice. Basic sword arts were nothing more than the fundamental moves: cleave, flick, slash, crush, lift, thrust, pare, and parry.
Aites followed these moves in his mind and began the dull, repetitive training. Though it was tedious, he understood that the foundation was of the utmost importance. Only by building a solid foundation could he achieve better results in his future training.
The warm sun, tinged with a scorching heat, shone down on the hardworking child on the ground. Aites held his wooden sword, sometimes chopping, sometimes thrusting at the air before him. Although his movements were clumsy and showed no trace of true swordsmanship, his small face was filled with determination.
The morning passed with Aites practicing his sword tirelessly, sweat pouring down like rain. By now, he was drenched, leaning on his wooden sword and panting for breath.
But he didn't rest for long. After a short break, he continued his training. This time, however, he wasn't practicing with the sword but was conditioning his body.
He knew that simply practicing sword forms would never be enough to become a truly formidable powerhouse. Many great sword masters not only had superb swordsmanship but also incredibly strong bodies. Otherwise, they wouldn't be able to support the power needed to unleash a slash that could split the sea.
So, he didn't dare to slack off in the slightest. He practiced swordsmanship in the morning and did physical training in the afternoon—push-ups, long-distance running, sit-ups, and more.
This was the training plan he had laid out for himself. He would have to increase the intensity of his physical training, but in this world, Aites had no fear that his body couldn't take it. No matter how tired he got, a big meal would fix him right up.
Besides, every time he pushed past his limits, he could feel himself getting a little stronger. This, perhaps, was what it meant to break one's physical limits.
Aites's training was seen clearly by Slap, who was hiding behind a tree. He had come to call Aites for a meal but was met with the sight of the boy pushing himself to continue training despite his obvious exhaustion.
Aites's tenacity and his life-or-death training style made a pang of heartache flash in Slap's eyes. Why was this child pushing himself so hard? His body wouldn't be able to take it!
Slap didn't understand anything about training, but Garp had entrusted Aites to his care, and he had come to see the boy as his own child. It would be a lie to say his heart didn't ache.
Hah! Hah! Hah!
Aites returned, panting, to the spot where he had been practicing. He was about to take a rest before continuing when he saw a basket placed under a large tree in the distance.
Opening it, Aites couldn't help but feel a wave of warmth spread through his heart. He knew it was from Uncle Slap. There was also the fragrant aroma of meat. Aites recognized the iconic meat on the bone that Luffy loved in the original story, which he often got by freeloading at Makino's bar.
"I'm hungry anyway. I'll eat first, then train!"
Aites chuckled softly, then picked up the meat on the bone and began to eat.
Time flew by as Aites devoted himself to his training. In the blink of an eye, five months had passed. It had now been half a year since he arrived in Windmill Village.
In the mountains behind the village, a small figure was striking a wooden post with a wooden sword. The rhythmic thwack, thwack was incessant. A closer look at the post would reveal it was covered in sword marks.
And if you looked even more carefully, you would be astonished to find that every single mark was of the exact same depth—and this was done not with a real blade, but with a wooden sword.
"Hah!"
Just then, Aites let out a sharp cry and thrust his wooden sword straight forward.
The moment the sword shot out, it seemed to transform into a true blade, incomparably sharp. A faint, formless aura seemed to swirl around its tip.
BOOM!
The instant the wooden sword made contact with the post, its incredible penetrating power caused the post to explode into a shower of splinters.