The results were even better than Rowan had hoped.
The synergy worked.
Not just worked—
It exceeded his expectations.
The Bronthe Leopard’s explosive physical speed paired flawlessly with the acceleration granted by the Swift-Swift Fruit.
Rather than interfering with one another, the two abilities reinforced each other at every stage.
A true combination.
A true fusion.
The Ancient Zoan provided overwhelming physical performance.
The Swift-Swift Fruit multiplied it.
Simple.
Elegant.
Terrifying.
If Wiper learned to fully synchronize both powers, his speed would become one of the most frightening weapons on the sea.
Perhaps only Kizaru’s Glint-Glint Fruit could claim unquestioned superiority.
And even that might not remain true forever.
Rowan stood at the edge of the training field, arms folded, watching a blur tear across the landscape.
The future looked promising.
Unfortunately, Wiper’s first attempt at stopping went exactly as expected.
BOOM!
A section of stone wall exploded.
Rock fragments scattered in every direction.
A moment later, a giant prehistoric leopard emerged from the wreckage looking thoroughly stunned.
For several seconds, Wiper simply stood there.
Blinking.
Trying to remember which direction he’d originally been facing.
Rowan laughed.
A deep, genuine laugh.
“Still needs work.”
The giant leopard growled in embarrassment.
The lesson was obvious.
Dual Devil Fruits were absurdly powerful.
They were also absurdly difficult to master.
Using two abilities simultaneously demanded significantly more stamina than normal.
Timing, control, and coordination all became more complicated.
Power wasn’t the problem.
Control was.
And right now, Wiper had plenty of the former and very little of the latter.
Even after a short demonstration, his breathing had already become noticeably heavier.
His body simply wasn’t accustomed to handling both fruits together.
That would take time.
Which meant one thing.
They weren’t leaving Skypiea yet.
There was still work to do.
Not only for Wiper.
For Rowan as well.
He had only recently acquired the Lightning Fruit.
The combination of Behemoth and Lightning possessed enormous potential, but potential alone meant nothing.
Power without mastery was wasted power.
For now, they would remain.
Train.
Grow stronger.
Prepare for the next stage of the journey.
That night, Skypiea celebrated.
And celebrated loudly.
The news of Enel’s death spread through every sky island like wildfire.
The response was immediate.
People flooded the streets.
Music echoed across Angel Island.
Children ran through the plazas laughing.
Families gathered openly without fear of divine punishment.
For the first time in years, nobody worried about a bolt of lightning descending from the heavens because they’d said the wrong thing.
The false god was gone.
Freedom had returned.
And the man responsible sat at the center of it all.
Rowan.
The Godslayer.
The Liberator of Skypiea.
The hero who had ended Enel’s reign.
Everywhere he went, people greeted him warmly.
Food appeared before he could ask for it.
Drinks arrived without charge.
Stories, songs, and gratitude followed him from street to street.
Rowan accepted it all with easy good humor.
There was no reason to refuse genuine goodwill.
The celebrations lasted long into the night.
Eventually, he slipped away and returned to his quarters aboard the Ark Maxim.
Only then did his attention turn back to the future.
The ship problem was solved.
The Ark Maxim was more than adequate for the early stages of his rise.
Money wasn’t an issue either.
The treasure of Shandora alone would provide enough funding to support a growing crew for years.
That left two priorities.
Crewmates.
And Devil Fruits.
The first would require patience.
Rowan wasn’t interested in collecting random strong fighters.
Strength mattered.
But loyalty mattered more.
He wanted people he could trust.
People who would stand beside him when things became difficult.
Future monsters.
Finding them wouldn’t be easy.
The second problem was more immediate.
He had already used every Devil Fruit brought from Valeria.
The Behemoth Fruit belonged to him.
The Bronthe Leopard and Swift-Swift Fruits now belonged to Wiper.
His reserve was empty.
If he wanted more dual-fruit users in the future, he needed more Devil Fruits.
Which meant hunting.
As he considered possible targets, one organization surfaced almost immediately.
Baroque Works.
A criminal syndicate operating throughout Alabasta.
Its leader was one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
Sir Crocodile.
The Desert King.
User of the Sand-Sand Fruit.
The man destined to become one of Luffy’s earliest major enemies.
More importantly—
Baroque Works contained multiple Devil Fruit users.
Potential resources.
Potential recruits.
And among them was one person Rowan wanted more than any other.
Nico Robin.
The Devil Child.
The sole survivor of Ohara.
The only known person alive capable of reading Poneglyphs.
At this point in history, she was still operating under the alias Miss All Sunday.
Crocodile’s right hand.
The highest-ranking officer in Baroque Works.
If Rowan could recruit her…
The value would be immeasurable.
Knowledge.
History.
Ancient Weapons.
The secrets buried beneath eight hundred years of silence.
Any crew aiming for the top of the world needed someone like Nico Robin.
Rowan leaned back in his chair.
A thoughtful smile appeared on his face.
“Crocodile…”
His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest.
“If I remember correctly…”
“You’re still searching for Pluton.”
The ancient weapon hidden somewhere within Alabasta.
A weapon powerful enough to erase islands.
A treasure Crocodile had spent years obsessing over.
Rowan chuckled softly.
“One of the Seven Warlords, huh?”
“I wonder if you’re actually worth the reputation.”
His destination was decided.
Alabasta.
The following weeks passed quickly.
And they were busy.
Very busy.
Once the people of Skypiea learned that Rowan intended to travel to the Blue Sea, they volunteered to help almost immediately.
The response surprised even him.
No one hesitated.
Gold was excavated by the ton.
Ancient ornaments.
Statues.
Artifacts.
Decorative treasures from a civilization lost to history.
Everything was transported to the Ark Maxim.
To most Skypieans, gold wasn’t particularly valuable.
You couldn’t eat it.
Couldn’t grow crops with it.
Couldn’t build a home from it.
Most had never traded with the Blue Sea at all.
To them, it was simply shiny metal.
Interesting.
Pretty.
Nothing more.
But everyone understood one thing.
Without Rowan, they would still be living beneath Enel’s rule.
If he wanted the treasure, they were more than willing to give it.
Compared to the freedom he’d returned to them, it felt like a small price.
Half a month passed.
By then, nearly every movable piece of gold had been loaded aboard the Ark Maxim.
Only culturally significant relics and a small reserve remained behind.
Everything else belonged to Rowan.
His starting capital had reached a ridiculous level.
Meanwhile, life throughout Skypiea steadily stabilized.
Markets reopened.
Trade resumed.
Construction projects began appearing across Angel Island.
People spoke openly about the future.
For the first time in years, the atmosphere felt light.
Hopeful.
Alive.
The Four Priests remained active as administrators and protectors.
Though they had once ruled through fear under Enel’s authority, they now worked alongside the people instead of above them.
The difference was impossible to miss.
Skypiea was healing.
Then—
BOOOOOOOOM!
A thunderclap shattered the sky.
The entire island trembled.
Conversations stopped instantly.
Every head turned north.
Toward the uninhabited cloud islands.
Another bolt crashed down.
Then another.
And another.
The distant sky flashed white.
Massive storm clouds churned across the horizon.
Lightning danced between them like living dragons.
For a brief moment, panic flickered through the crowd.
Had Enel returned?
Then someone laughed.
Another joined in.
Soon the entire street was smiling.
Because everyone knew.
There was only one person in Skypiea capable of creating storms like that now.
Far away, within the northern training grounds—
A colossal thunderstorm raged.
Lightning illuminated the clouds from within.
The wind howled.
Thunder rolled endlessly across the sky.
At the center of it all stood Rowan.
Electricity coursed over his skin.
Silver-white hair whipped in the gale.
Bolts of lightning danced between his fingertips before vanishing into the storm overhead.
A grin spread across his face.
The training was working.
Every day, his control improved.
Every day, the gap between his two Devil Fruits grew smaller.
The power of the Behemoth.
The power of Lightning.
Slowly.
Steadily.
The two were beginning to move as one.