One Piece: Reborn in God's Valley

Night had fallen. Ashen, at the helm of the Blackthorn, had arrived in unfamiliar waters.

Under the moonlight, the sails of the Blackthorn had been lowered, and a heavy anchor had been cast. The ship was now resting silently in a quiet stretch of sea.

In the captain's cabin, Ashen sat cross-legged on his bed, shirtless, deep in his usual nightly meditation.

Boom.

Suddenly, the distant rumble of cannon fire shattered the silence, growing louder by the second. 

The sound was impossible to ignore. Ashen, eyes opening calmly, threw on a coat and picked up the sword at his side, before stepping out onto the deck.

From the prow of the ship, Ashen could now see clearly as the conflict drew closer.

Not far away, a massive warship was chasing a small sailboat, adjusting its cannon angles with each shot in an attempt to sink its nimble prey.

Aboard the small boat stood a pale-faced boy, gold earrings dangling from both ears.

He looked around twelve or thirteen, and despite the barrage of cannon fire, he was skillfully steering the boat, dodging most of the attacks. 

Its smaller size made it agile, and the boy's seafaring skills were clearly impressive.

But perhaps due to his age and physical limits, his stamina began to wane. His movements became sluggish, and steering the boat grew increasingly difficult.

"Salles, just hang in there. The ship coming to pick us up is here."

Spotting the Blackthorn, the boy's eyes lit up with desperate hope, as if he'd seen a lifeline. He quickly turned his sailboat toward Ashen's vessel.

As the small boat drew near, Ashen got a better look. Aside from the boy, there was also a young man in his twenties aboard. 

A clearly visible round wound marked his chest, blood flowing freely from it.

"Hey. Drop a rope ladder. Call your ship's doctor, my brother won't last much longer. I've got the stuff you wanted."

The boy had already pulled his boat alongside the Blackthorn, shouting up anxiously.

Judging from his words, he had clearly mistaken Ashen for their intended contact.

Ashen found the situation amusing. He didn't bother to correct the misunderstanding and casually tossed down a rope ladder.

"Climb up yourself. If you can make it aboard, I'll save your companion."

Without hesitation, the boy slung the wounded young man over his back and began to climb.

"Open fire. Quickly. The target has allies."

From the warship behind them, the commanding officer barked orders. He too had assumed Ashen was part of the escape plan.

Boom. boom.

Two cannonballs screamed through the air, headed straight for the Blackthorn.

"Damn it."

Halfway up, the boy's pupils dilated in terror at the sound of the blasts.

But rather than let fear take hold, he twisted his body midair, shielding the wounded man with his back to absorb the explosion.

"Good instincts," Ashen muttered, drawing his sword.

Clang.

In a flash, a streak of grey-black sword energy over twenty meters long burst from the Blackthorn, slicing cleanly through the incoming cannonballs.

Instead of exploding, the cannonballs split in two and plunged harmlessly into the sea.

Ashen had infused his sword slash with his Devil Fruit ability. 

The dark energy had frozen the shells at the moment they were about to detonate, neutralizing their explosive force to protect the two passengers.

Whoosh.

The sword energy didn't stop there. After cleaving the cannonballs, it continued flying toward the warship.

It was late at night, and those aboard the pursuing ship didn't even notice it coming, until a deafening crash rang out and their main mast collapsed. Panic ensued.

"What swordsmanship...." the boy gasped, momentarily forgetting their dire situation.

"Hey. Quit spacing out. Your brother's dying, get up here." Ashen's voice called down from above.

"Oh, right. Sorry." the boy snapped out of it.

By the time they reached the deck, the boy realized with a jolt, there was only one person aboard this ship.

He immediately grew nervous again. "Wait, why are you alone? Aren't you supposed to be the one picking us up? Where's the ship's doctor?"

"This ship? It's just me. And no, I'm not the one you were supposed to meet."

Ashen spoke as he began reeling up the anchor. 

"Take the helm. I'll bring your brother below and tend to his wounds. Relax, they won't catch this ship."

With the anchor stowed and the sails lowered once again, Ashen lifted the unconscious young man from the deck and carried him to the cabin.

"Please. I'm begging you, save my brother's life." the boy pleaded.

A few minutes later, the Blackthorn was racing away from the scene, the sails full under the boy's capable hands.

Behind them, the damaged warship could do nothing but watch helplessly as the Blackthorn vanished into the night.

…

Below deck, Ashen was already tending to the young man's wound, a gunshot.

Using the icy chill generated by his Devil Fruit powers, he had stopped the bleeding. After carefully removing the bullet, he stitched the wound shut and wrapped it tightly.

Luckily, Ashen had been there. Several times during treatment, the young man's soul had tried to slip free from his body, only to be caught and forced back by Ashen's energy.

By the time the wound was bandaged, the young man's breathing had steadied.

"Whew..."

Ashen exhaled and muttered, "Looks like I really need to start finding a crew."

…

The next morning, on the Blackthorn's deck.

Ashen and the boy ate breakfast together as they talked.

Through their conversation, Ashen came to understand the boy's tragic past.

He was none other than a young Lafitte, still just a child.

Lafitte had been orphaned at the age of five, and had spent the next few years wandering alone through the Mafia Isles of the West Blue. 

At eight, he was taken in by the Fernando Family, one of the five great mafia families of the West.

The family's patriarch, Fernando Navarro, was also the injured young man's father, and he had taken Lafitte in as his godson, raising him with care.

Salles, in turn, had treated Lafitte like a real younger brother. For the first time in his life, Lafitte had felt what it meant to have a home.

But that peace didn't last.

A year ago, a subordinate family, the Capone Family, betrayed the Fernandos.

The Capones had secretly allied with the other four mafia houses and launched a purge against the Fernando Family. 

The Fernandos were wiped out, and only Salles and Lafitte escaped in the chaos.

The traumatic events left Salles mentally unstable. He developed a strange illness, and Lafitte spent all his savings trying to get him treatment.

Just a few days ago, Lafitte learned that the Capone Family had obtained a Devil Fruit. Hoping to sell it to the black market for money to save his brother, Lafitte risked everything to steal it.

But they found him.

Pursued relentlessly, he had no choice but to flee with the sickly Salles, until they ran into Ashen.

"Help. Stay away from me. Hahaha. That's hilarious."

Just as they were finishing their story, shouting erupted from below deck.

"Oh no. Salles is having another episode." Lafitte cried, sprinting down the stairs.

By the time Ashen entered the cabin, Salles had started sobbing uncontrollably.

"My brother's condition is strange," Lafitte explained hurriedly. 

"He's only normal for about half the day. The rest of the time, he cries, laughs, sometimes gets excited, sometimes terrified…"

"I see. Lafitte, hold him steady. Let me take a closer look."

Ashen's eyes narrowed with curiosity. Activating his Nether Eye, he focused his gaze into Salles' body.

"Hmm?"