Yes—that's right. The Seven Warlords of the Sea.
They are the seven infamous pirates officially sanctioned by the World Government, wielding devastating power on par with entire nations. Only those with overwhelming strength or notorious fame can be considered for such a title.
The Warlords are a dangerously autonomous force that possesses both freedom and status. Though officially labeled as neutral, both the Marines and pirates alike treat them as enemies.
Each Warlord operates independently. Though the public calls them the Government's lapdogs, the reality is far more complicated.
If the World Government ever sees an opportunity, it won't hesitate to eliminate them. Every Warlord has their own reason for accepting the title. They cling to the privileges it brings, manipulating the system while simultaneously being feared by pirates everywhere.
They hold in their hands everything ordinary people could only dream of—freedom, status, power.
And isn't that exactly what Aeridar has always longed for?
I don't care about some grand treasure, or becoming Pirate King, or stirring up revolutions, or uncovering the true history. I just want to build my own power base—watch the chaos unfold, observe the arrival of a new era, and maybe stir the pot every now and then. If I can, I wouldn't mind learning more about the Poneglyphs. After all, in middle school, history and literature were the only subjects that ever held my interest.
And clashing with those powerful figures who rule the seas—what could be more thrilling?
Isn't that right?
"Heh… The Seven Warlords of the Sea, a power that grants both freedom and recognition. That'll be my target—my dream." Aeridar grinned, his eyes gleaming. "Fujitora, didn't you want to abolish the Warlord system? Let's settle this—Impact-Impact Fruit vs. Press-Press Fruit… hehehe…"
Now with his goal in sight, Aeridar's spirit was reignited. He stood up, facing the sea, mind racing.
"It's the Sea Circle Calendar year 1510. The Warlords haven't all been chosen yet. As for the Yonko… it's unclear if they even exist at this point. The original manga doesn't say."
"But going by canon, Luffy met Red-Haired Shanks when he was seven—that's in 1512. That's when Shanks lost his arm to the Sea King and returned to the New World, shocking the world. That wouldn't have happened unless he was already a Yonko by then. So, the rise of the Four Emperors must have taken place between 1510 and 1512."
At that moment, several strange birds flew overhead, each carrying a bag—they were News Coo.
"What's going on? That many News Coo flying together... something big must've happened." Spotting the flock, Captain Jaron quickly called one down, paid a hundred Berries, and received the latest paper.
"Captain Jaron, is there anything interesting?" Curious, Aeridar leapt down from the bow and hurried over. Having been isolated for so long, he was eager for news.
"No way…" Jaron's eyes widened in shock as he scanned the headlines. "A battle just broke out in the New World between the infamous pirates Gecko Moria and Kaido of the Beasts!"
"What?!" Aeridar's heart skipped a beat as he read further:
"An intense battle erupted between Kaido of the Beasts and Gecko Moria. Moria suffered a crushing defeat—his entire crew was annihilated, leaving only the captain himself. He fled the New World and has since disappeared."
"Three hundred and twenty million Beri bounty… and even he got wiped out?" Jaron muttered, astonished. "For someone as notorious as Gecko Moria to be completely devastated… it's unbelievable."
This era was nothing like the one Luffy and Ace would later rise in. A bounty over one hundred million marked someone as a true power in the New World. Why else would Crocodile, with his 81 million bounty, or Boa Hancock, who debuted with 80 million, be chosen as Warlords?
Especially pirates like Moria and Doflamingo, who carried bounties in the high hundreds of millions—they were few and far between in this time.
That's why, even in the far-off East Blue, Jaron was so shocked.
Aeridar stared silently at the newspaper in Jaron's hands, his thoughts racing.
"Moria's defeat… That means the era of the Yonko is about to begin. The Seven Warlords will soon be assembled as well."
"Heheheh…" Aeridar turned toward the horizon, his voice rising with excitement. "The Grand Line… I'm coming for you!"
...
Night fell. Nothing eventful occurred as the Gigiriel sailed swiftly across the open sea. Under the shifting stars and rising sun, the third day arrived.
By afternoon, they were just three nautical miles from Kukos Island.
"Hey, Captain Jaron, is that Shiga Island over there?" Aeridar asked excitedly, pointing toward a large island in the distance.
"Yeah, that's Shiga. One of the most famous islands in the East Blue. It's rich in rare, high-quality timber. The island spans about 320 square kilometers and houses a city of over 200,000 people. They've got a solid shipbuilding industry too," Jaron slurred slightly, sipping from his bottle.
"A good shipbuilding industry?" Aeridar's eyes sparkled. "Captain Jaron, have you been here often?"
"Eh, a couple of times. The place is a melting pot—lowlifes, gangsters, bounty hunters, pirates, Marines—you name it. There's only one dock, and it's one of the two busiest areas on the island, along with the city center." Jaron wiped his mouth, glancing at Aeridar.
"Really?" Aeridar's dark eyes glinted with intrigue, thoughts swirling behind them.
Before long, the Gigiriel pulled into port.
"Nice…" Aeridar murmured, eyes glued to the bustling harbor from where he lay sprawled across the mast.
Having seen the urban spectacle of Earth, Aeridar wasn't exactly amazed—but it had been ten years since he'd seen this many people. The architecture and atmosphere were entirely different from anything on Earth. He'd only ever seen this kind of scene in manga or anime. Now, seeing it with his own eyes, he couldn't help but stare a little longer.
The harbor was massive, with dozens of ships of various sizes docked—some small, just 20 to 30 meters long; others, like the Gigiriel, over 100 meters.
Ten minutes later, they docked at berth twelve of the main freight terminal.
The crew bustled around, unloading goods while injured sailors were carried to nearby hospitals. The place was packed—cargo everywhere, people shouting, trading, moving.
"Kid, we'll be staying here for two days," Jaron said seriously as they stood on the pier. "If you don't want to hang around, just be back within two days."
"Yeah, Aeridar, if it gets too much for you, you can always come with us," added the burly first mate, Helore.
"We'd really welcome that," said Dimitri with a reluctant smile.
"Haha… Thanks for everything, really—but there's no need," Aeridar laughed loudly, then turned serious. "Dimitri, if you've made up your mind—four years from today, I'll be waiting for you here. We'll set sail together."
"I'm off."
Step, step, step…
With that, Aeridar turned and walked away, waving with his back to them, his beast-hide pack slung over one shoulder as his footsteps echoed down the dock.
"One day, the seas will know his name," Captain Jaron said, taking a swig of his drink, his gaze sharp and serious.
"Four years from today…" Dimitri whispered, eyes fixed on Aeridar's fading silhouette. His expression slowly hardened with determination.
"Come on, Dimitri. Let's head back." Captain Jaron clapped a hand on the boy's bony shoulder with a smile. "Starting tomorrow, I'll be teaching you how to navigate."
"Aye, Captain!" Dimitri paused—then broke into a wide, genuine grin.
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