East Blue

Hundreds of kilometers away from Shimotsuki Village, Tachibana Kyūjō stepped off the deck of the Blue Dragon and into the open sky, his body supported by swift, rhythmic kicks using Geppō.

He knew exactly what kind of man his teacher, Shimotsuki Kōshirō, was—someone who valued peace above all else.

And given the subtle hints buried in the original world’s “story,” Kyūjō strongly suspected that Kōshirō had some hidden connection to the Revolutionary Army’s leader, Monkey D. Dragon.

If that was true… then it was possible Kōshirō himself was a covert Revolutionary.

— — —

When the familiar sight of the Isshin Dōjō came into view, Kyūjō’s lips curved into a faint smile. The place looked livelier than before—more students than he remembered.

I wonder… how strong are my juniors now?

He stepped through the wide-open wooden doors, letting the warm scent of tatami mats and polished wood wash over his senses.

— — —

Kyūjō spent the entire day at the dōjō. By the time the sun began to set, he stood before his master and placed a strange, swirled fruit on the table between them.

“Kōshirō-sensei,” Kyūjō said calmly, “this is a Mythical Zoan-type Devil Fruit—the Uma Uma no Mi, Model: Unicorn. I don’t need it. Please… give it to Kuina. Consider it my way of making up for two years of absence.”

“She’s a girl. But with this power, she’ll at least have the strength to protect herself. Please—don’t refuse.”

Before his teacher could even respond, Kyūjō turned and walked toward the staircase at the back of the house.

He dismantled the highest steps—the ones that had once sent Kuina tumbling to her fate—splintering the wood until nothing remained.

It was his way of erasing that old, cruel destiny.

Without another word, Kyūjō left the dōjō, the legendary “stairs” gone forever, and his master frozen in silent shock.

— — —

He knew staying too long in Shimotsuki Village would only draw attention.

Even as a Marine hero, political enemies would seize any chance to investigate Kōshirō if they knew Kyūjō had visited him—especially if his suspicions about the man’s ties to the Revolutionaries were true.

In the eyes of the World Government, the Revolutionary Army was a far greater threat than any pirate crew.

So the moment his errand was done, Kyūjō shot back into the sky, retracing the Blue Dragon’s path.

— — —

He hadn’t told his ship to wait in place. Instead, they’d been ordered to keep moving along the planned route. Which meant catching up was now his problem.

About ninety minutes into his high-speed flight, Kyūjō abruptly stopped in midair, his brow furrowing.

Something felt… off.

With his finely-honed Kenbunshoku Haki, he sensed a strange island hidden in the clouds above—a floating mass with no visible base or sea below it.

Unlike Skypiea, this wasn’t supported by White Sea at ten thousand meters. This island simply… hovered.

And there was only one man in the world who could make something like this exist.

The power of the Fuwa Fuwa no Mi… Shiki.

Golden Lion Shiki—a living legend who had once shaken the world.

— — —

Who was Shiki, really?

A former core member of the Rocks Pirates—the most terrifying crew in history. Their captain, Rocks D. Xebec, was such a threat that the World Government erased his name from history itself. Among his crew were monsters like:

Edward Newgate—Whitebeard, the strongest man in the world.

Charlotte Linlin—Big Mom.

Kaidō—back then just a young apprentice.

Silver Axe, Wang Zhi, Captain John, Stussy… and more.

— — —

And among them, Shiki was one of Rocks’ right-hand men—a wild lion hungering for absolute power.

— — —

After Rocks’ downfall at God Valley—where Roger and Garp fought side-by-side—Shiki formed his own crew: the Flying Pirates.

Alongside Whitebeard and Roger, Shiki had been a pillar of power in the seas before the Great Pirate Era began.

A decade ago, Shiki had tried to form an alliance with Roger to take the world by force. Roger refused.

The result was the infamous Edd War, one of the most dangerous naval battles in history.

A freak storm—still unexplained—saved Roger’s crew, sinking half of Shiki’s airborne fleet.

Shiki himself was struck by disaster: a ship’s steering wheel lodged deep in his skull. Removing it would mean certain death.

It remains there to this day, making his appearance… unique.

Though no one dared laugh.

— — —

If that storm hadn’t appeared… would history have been different?

Would the true Pirate King have been Shiki, not Roger?

The thought flickered briefly in Kyūjō’s mind.

But his decision came instantly.

“If I’ve already found him… then I have no reason to turn away.”

His eyes sharpened, his stance lowering.

Golden Lion? Strongest of a past era? Former right hand of Rocks? Whatever.

I am Tachibana Kyūjō. I don’t fear anyone.

Still, he sent word to Sengoku—not asking permission, just informing him.

— — —

“What?! You found Golden Lion Shiki?! In East Blue?!”

The Den Den Mushi perfectly mimicked Sengoku’s outrage, complete with bulging veins.

It was understandable. The name “Shiki” wasn’t just a legend—it was a warning.

— — —

Eight years ago, in the year 1498, the world was stunned when the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, was captured by the Marines.

Shiki refused to believe it. The man he considered his only rival… caught? Impossible.

Consumed by rage, he flew alone to Marineford.

Using his Devil Fruit power, he dropped islands from the sky onto the Marine base, killing countless soldiers.

In the chaos, he was confronted by two pillars of Marine strength: Garp and Sengoku.

For the first time in history, the two fought side-by-side against a single man.

Marineford was half-destroyed before Shiki was finally defeated.

Since then, he had vanished from the seas… until now.

— — —

In Kyūjō’s eyes, besides the shadowy figure known as Imu, there was no one else alive who could even possibly push Sengoku and Garp to fight together—let alone survive it.

That battle had ended in Shiki’s loss, but it was still a loss worthy of respect.

— — —

Afterward, Shiki was thrown into Impel Down, locked in the lowest level—Level 6: Eternal Hell.

But even legends don’t end so easily.

One year after Roger’s death, the “inescapable” prison’s flawless record was broken.

The first—and only—man to ever escape Impel Down: Shiki, the Golden Lion.

The price? Immense.

To free himself from Seastone shackles, Shiki cut off his own legs, replacing them with two of the 12 Supreme Grade Swords—Oto and Kogarashi.

— — —

Now, in the grand hall of his floating palace, Shiki lounged among his followers, drinking and feasting like the old days.

His mane of golden hair spilled to the floor like the sun’s own rays. His beard and mustache were just as thick and wild.

And atop his head, embedded deep in his skull—the steering wheel from the Edd War.

He knew it made him look like a giant rooster when he saw his reflection.

And perhaps that’s why he hated roosters.

His kimono, striped in orange and yellow, only made the resemblance worse.

— — —

Minutes later—

The sky trembled with a deep, distant roar.

Kyūjō’s steps across the air left bursts of compressed wind in his wake.

Within seconds, he stood before the floating island.

He inhaled deeply, drawing the air around him into his lungs until the atmosphere itself seemed to ripple.

In a flash, his Black Blade, Rairyūken, was drawn.

Dark, storm-like Busoshoku Haki surged down his arm, turning it a deep, gleaming shade of purple-black.

His swing cut through the air like a thunderclap.

From the blade erupted a crescent of dark-blue energy, growing as it flew—a slash hundreds of meters long by the time it struck.

The impact shook the island’s surface, ripping stone and soil apart, carving a chasm nearly a kilometer long.

The sky itself seemed to vibrate.

Kyūjō stepped forward, his voice carrying across the winds:

“Golden Lion Shiki—COME OUT!”

— — —

Inside the palace, Shiki paused mid-drink.

An attack? Here?

His hesitation lasted only a heartbeat.

He rose, raising both hands.

The ceiling of his palace tore open like paper, and with the swords for legs, he launched himself upward—faster than a cannon shell.

— — —

Moments later, he floated in the air before Kyūjō.

Close—just meters between them.

The sky became the stage for a clash of eras.

Arms crossed, Shiki’s gaze narrowed, a sharp grin on his face.

“So you’re the Marine brat who attacked me?”

“You know who I am, and you still came alone?”

“I am Shiki—the Golden Lion, boy!”

Kyūjō just shook his head slightly.

His eyes calm, his lips curving faintly.

“Still stuck in the past, huh? No wonder you couldn’t beat Roger.”

— — —

Those two sentences were enough to light the fire.

“You little whelp! You wanna die?!”

Shiki roared, lifting both hands.

“Shishi: Odori! Dai Jishin!”

The earth below shuddered, rising into the air, shaping itself into massive lions of stone and soil—each the height of a skyscraper, cloaked in dust and fury.

Five colossal beasts charged from every direction, each one carrying the strength to wipe an island off the map.

— — —

The sky thundered.

The battle between a legend of the past… and the hope of the future…

was about to begin.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep