Chapter Text
Chapter 22: The Training Continues
The sixth sunrise broke across the cliffs of Eltros in golden streaks, washing over the brothers' makeshift training field like firelight. Dew clung to the tall grass. The wind blew salt from the sea, but no one noticed anymore. The cliffside was scorched in rings from Ace's earlier training attempts. With wild, unfocused flares of flame during his sparring with Rayleigh. Trees had been turned to ash. Craters pocked the ground like the aftermath of a battle, but the destruction had lessened over the days, because Ace was finally beginning to listen.
From day one, his problem had been overpowering everything. Ace fought like a wildfire that was consuming, unrelenting and raw, but Rayleigh's lessons weren't about fire. They were about presence, silence, and intent and that had been torture for someone like him. The first few days had everyone of the strawhats had seen him lose every single spar.
"Your fire screams louder than your spirit," Rayleigh told him. "It's drowning out your haki."
So the training changed. Rayleigh banned Ace from using the Mera Mera no Mi entirely. No flames, no explosions, just fists and will to which Ace had hated. He couldn't hide behind heat anymore. Couldn't blow his way through failure, but that was the point.
"Take away the fruit," Rayleigh had said, "and what's left is the real you."
The first breakthrough came on the evening of the third day. Rayleigh had stationed Ace alone at the edge of the cliff, perched on a boulder, cross-legged, eyes shut. No talking. No moving. Just listening.
"You're trying to punch your way into haki," Rayleigh had said earlier. "That’s not a door. It's a voice and you've been yelling too loud to hear it."
Ace had gritted his teeth through it all. The silence was maddening. He felt useless. Powerless, but as the sun set and his breath slowed, something finally shifted.
He heard… waves. Not with his ears, they were crashing far below; but inside his chest, a rhythm started to rise. The same one Luffy had mentioned; like a drum.
Dum. Dum. Dum-dum.
It was faint, but steady, not just the beat of his heart, but something deeper, older. A sound that vibrated through his bones. He didn't tell anyone, but that night, Ace didn't dream of fire; instead he dreamt of wind and drums.
The next day was sparring again. Sabo had been growing sharper by the hour with his Armament haki now coating full limbs, focused and honed. He moved like water over steel, efficient and balanced. Luffy had spent the morning helping refine his flow, how to shift haki across the body mid-strike, how to anticipate, redirect, and feel where the impact would need to land.
Ace, though, still couldn't manifest any Armament. His punches passed right through Rayleigh's deflections. No weight or pressure; just fists. Until late that evening, when Luffy pulled him aside.
"You're still holding back," Luffy told him. "You think haki's a weapon, something you call on when you need it."
Ace frowned, brushing sweat from his brow. "Isn't it?"
"No," Luffy said, serious now. "It's not something you use. It's something you are."Luffy reached out, tapped his knuckles against Ace's chest. "You're one of the strongest people I know… when you're fighting to protect us; but when it's just about you, you fight messy. Loud."
Ace didn't respond. Luffy turned to walk away, but called back over his shoulder.
"Tomorrow, don't fight for yourself. Fight for something that matters."
It happened mid-morning as Rayleigh stood, hands behind his back, watching Ace approach for their usual sparring match. His expression was neutral. Waiting. Ace didn't say anything. He didn't flare with heat. Didn't burn the ground with every step he took. Instead, he seemed to be focusing inward. The flames beneath his skin were still there but today they were calm, simmering like hot water, not wildfire. When Rayleigh moved fast, faster than the eye, Ace didn't try to overwhelm him. He didn't swing wildly.
He felt the wind shift. He felt where Rayleigh would be, not by sight or sound, but something else; awareness. When he struck, his fist was coated in dense black faint metallic sheen wrapped around his knuckles. It wasn't full body armor yet, not even halfway but it was something. Rayleigh raised a brow, mid-movement, as Ace's punch grazed his shoulder.
The silence that followed was loud with meaning. Sabo nearly dropped his tea. Luffy whooped and clapped his hands behind his head. "That's it!"
Rayleigh, meanwhile, stood still, then turned, smiling. "There it is," he said softly. "You finally stopped trying to be fire…" He looked Ace in the eyes, "…and started being will."
Ace was breathing heavy, knuckles trembling from the strain. But his grin was wild and proud. "Haki… is exhausting."
"It will be," Rayleigh said, stepping closer, "until you stop treating it like a dead muscle… and start treating it like a current."
By the end of the day, Ace hadn't mastered haki, not yet. However, he could manifest Armament on his fists and forearms with focus. His Observation was flickering into life, brief flashes of sensing intent or danger. His flame powers began to become calmer, more refined, no longer lashing out unconsciously. Then most importantly, he'd begun to listen to himself , not his father's legacy, not his anger; just Ace.
When the brothers sat around the fire that night, the mood was lighter. Sabo toasted bread over the flame while Ace lay flat on his back, staring at the stars. Luffy sat nearby, arms folded behind his head.
"You almost hit the Dark King," he said with a grin. "Not bad."
Ace snorted. "Yeah, well, tomorrow I'm gonna do more than scratch him."
Luffy looked at him, smile fading into something steadier, more respectful.
"Yeah," he said, "I think you will."
Meanwhile, somewhere out on the Grand Line, the sea was calm, but the sky had turned an unnatural shade of gray. Shanks stood alone on the bow, wind rustling his cloak. His usual smile was absent, replaced by something heavier. It was the kind of look only an Emperor wears when he sees a storm no one else believes in. He reached into his coat and pulled out a custom Den Den Mushi. It had a ridiculous little blue clown red nose on it. He pressed the receiver.
Brrrrrrr... brrrrrrr...
It clicked before a voice came over and the snail's face morphed into the owner of the voice. "WHAT?!" came the unmistakable screech of Buggy, who was already flustered, as if he'd been interrupted during something important or stupid, and knowing him; it was both.
Shanks chuckled, just slightly. "Hello to you too, Buggy."
There was a pause before panic was heard. "...Oh no. No no no. You only call me when the world's ending. I'm not interested in whatever insane Yonko level nonsense you're dragging behind your cape this time, Shanks! Some of us are trying to run a business empire!"
"You mean your circus mafia?" Shanks countered.
"It's a powerful economic syndicate!" Buggy growled at him.
"Sure it is."Shanks let the teasing fade. The humor dropped from his voice. "Listen, Buggy. I didn't call to insult you. I called because the Dutchman is real."
Dead silence on the other end. Even the Den Den Mushi mimicked Buggy's wide, frozen eyes. "...That's not funny, Shanks."
"I'm not joking." Shanks stated in a deadpanned voice.
There was a long, tense pause. Then Buggy's voice lowered, all pretense gone.
"I thought it was just a story. Some ancient ship from before the Void Century. A cursed weapon. I mean, it's a ghost ship, for crying out loud. You're saying it's actually—?"
"It's not a ghost. It's something worse,"Shanks said. "It's moving through the North Blue."
Buggy groaned. "Of course it is. Always starts in the places no one pays attention to."
"It attacked a World Government research convoy two nights ago. No survivors. The ship didn't sink. It just… disappeared and then something else took its place. I've seen the pictures from my allies."
"They went near it?! Are they crazy?!"
"No, they saw the aftermath. There's nothing left. No bodies. No wood. Just salt and the air smells wrong afterward, like rust and ozone. Like lightning struck something rotten."
Buggy swallowed. "...You know who it's after, don't you?"
"I think it's after Luffy."
Buggy let out a strangled whine. "Why is it always that kid? First the Marines, then Akainu, then the Revolutionaries when Dragon tried to steal Sabo, then Blackbeard! He's like a damn magnet for bad things or people!"
Shanks' voice turned grim. "Because he's not just a pirate anymore. He's the one carrying the will forward."
Buggy muttered, "He's still a moron…"
"He's our moron," Shanks said quietly.
Buggy didn't respond to that.
Buggy finally spoke again, but his voice had changed. Calculating now. Less panic, more survival instinct. "I've got someone who owes me a favor in the North Blue. Not a clown, not a fanboy. Someone dangerous."
"Who?" Shanks inquired.
"His Baba." Shanks looked at the grin on the den den with a raised eyebrow. "Though the kid doesn't know."
"Okay. I'll bite." Shanks said letting his curiosity slip. "Who is that?"
In a rain slicked city, sitting in a cigar lit room filled with maps, intel reports, and photographs pinned to cork boards. Red string connected pieces that spanned across centuries of sunken ships, vanished fleets, old marines whose names had been erased from records. A glass of whiskey clinks down on a desk. A golden hook gleams in the lamplight.
"I've seen the ripples," Crocodile says coolly, a Den Den on the desk in front of him as he suddenly joins in the conversation. He and Buggy had been discussing this before Shanks had called. "Ships that vanish without a trace. Weather patterns that shouldn't exist and there are whispers in the underworld."
Buggy's voice crackled through the speaker. "Can you pinpoint it?"
"Not exactly, but I've narrowed it to three sectors. The Dutchman doesn't sail in straight lines, it follows ley currents, ancient ones. Forgotten by most."
Shanks' voice cut in. "We need to intercept it. We're buying time for the brothers to finish training."
Crocodile scoffed. "So the rumors are true. Someone is training with strong haki."
Buggy added, "Sabo's with them too. All three of them."
"Then the world's got a small chance," Crocodile said. "I'll send my best scouts to the sector. If I'm right, the Dutchman will make its next appearance during the next new moon."
"That gives us five days," Shanks said.
Buggy groaned again. "You're dragging me into a ghost story war, aren't you?"
Shanks smiled but it was all steel. "You survived Impel Down two months ago. You once stood next to the Pirate King who was crazier than Luffy. So stop whining and be the legend the world already knowsyou are."
Buggy muttered something rude, but didn't hang up. Shanks looked toward the horizon, voice softer now. "We don't need to beat it. Just slow it down."
Crocodile blew a cloud of smoke. "Then we'd better move fast."
Somewhere far north, fog blanketed a dead sea. A massive, blackened ship glided silently across water that didn’t ripple. Lanterns flicker with ghostly green light. The ship's figurehead is a twisted, half human skeleton with gold eyes. The Flying Dutchman sails, not bound by wind, nor tide. Below deck, something ancient awakened as a voice, deep and filled with dark intentions spoke in a hum that made the wood groan and the air tremble as it headed toward where the brothers were trying desperately to become stronger in order to stop it.