Eight years before the events of Skypiea Arc, after Enel destroyed his homeland of Birka, he would eventually overthrow Gan Fall and proclaim himself the God of Skypiea.
However, at this moment, Enel, who was the same age as Sven, was still lingering in Birka, far from reaching that point.
As the saying goes, one step ahead means staying ahead at every step.
Sven chose a different path.
Instead of waiting, he planned to win over the Skypieans while negotiating with the people under Gan Fall’s rule, using both force and diplomacy to take control of the entire sky island.
The truth was simple.
Sky Island was the perfect base.
Situated above the White Sea, ten thousand meters above sea level, it was completely isolated from the reach of the World Government and the Marines led by Monkey D.
Garp.
Looking across the entire sea, there was no better place for growth.
On top of that, Sky Island possessed unique creations such as Dials, tools with strange and powerful abilities.
Wind Dials, Flame Dials, and Reject Dials all held immense value.
Of course, all of this required one condition.
To become the God of Sky Island.
“How about I become your God?”
Kalpa froze for a moment.
If Gol D.
Roger had said those words, it might have been acceptable.
But Sven, aside from his strength and his cooking, did not seem to fit the image of a god in their eyes.
“Sven, you understand our traditions.”
The Shandians valued strength above all.
To lead them, one had to defeat every warrior and stand as the strongest.
“Then there’s nothing to wait for,” Sven replied.
Taking control one day earlier meant stepping onto the path of strength one day sooner.
“Come.
Fight me.”
Thunder roared across the sky.
Lightning of white, yellow, blue, red, and purple twisted together, illuminating the heavens like divine wrath descending upon the world.
When he was at sea, Sven summoned lightning from thunderclouds above.
Here, it was different.
Lightning surged not only from the sky above, but also from the White Sea below.
Power came from every direction.
In a world where most people lacked Haki, the dominance of a Logia-type Devil Fruit was overwhelming.
Among them, the Goro Goro no Mi stood at the pinnacle.
Against warriors who could not use Haki, there was no need for Sven to rely on Conqueror’s Haki.
Lightning alone was enough.
The pressure he released was no different from the terror Enel would one day bring to all who faced him.
The Shandian warriors, led by Kalpa, stared in stunned silence.
Fear spread through their ranks, instinctively triggered by the overwhelming display.
Even so, some stepped forward.
Fear was instinct.
Courage was choice.
But in a battle so uneven, courage alone was meaningless.
With a single exchange, hundreds of warriors collapsed.
Sven had held back.
If he had not, the outcome would have been annihilation.
Such was the unreasonable power of a Devil Fruit.
The storm faded.
As if nothing had happened, Sven returned to his seat and continued the banquet.
“Mihawk, have you decided on a name for the crew?”
Dracule Mihawk set down his cup and looked at him.
“Before that, I want to know something.”
“A man like you, who has already reached Laugh Tale and knows what the One Piece is, why return to the sea?”
Sven drank his wine in one motion.
The next second, his Conqueror’s Haki surged outward, sweeping across the entire island and knocking out every living being.
Everyone except Mihawk.
Some words were not meant for outsiders.
“I did reach Laugh Tale with the Captain,” Sven said slowly.
“I saw the truth behind what the world calls the One Piece.”
“But knowing the answer does not mean the journey ends.”
“Freedom is not an answer.
It is a state.”
“Reading every map does not mean you have felt every wind or crossed every sea.”
“The One Piece showed what the world could become.
It did not decide what it must become.”
“True freedom is not choosing between given paths.
It is creating a path no one has imagined.”
Sven’s gaze lifted slightly, as if looking beyond the sky itself.
“I sail to feel the sea again.”
“To drink with new companions on unknown islands.”
“To prove that dreams do not end just because you know the truth.”
“Even with that knowledge, I can still face this imperfect world with the same curiosity I had at the beginning.”
“So do not let the final island define the journey.”
“Our path is decided by our will, and the wind ahead.”
“This is my freedom.”
Perhaps that was what it meant to have a companion.
Mihawk raised his glass.
“To freedom.”
After a brief silence, Sven leaned back slightly.
“Vice Captain, can you now tell me the name of our crew?”
Mihawk considered for a moment.
“Inazuma.”
“Too specific.”
“Daybreak.”
“Unlucky.”
“Glimmer.
Vesperion.
Dawn.”
Sven frowned slightly, swirling his drink.
None of them felt right.
The discussion quickly turned into an argument.
“Freedom?”
“Too direct.”
“Stars?”
“Too distant.”
“Sun?”
“Already taken.”
At last, Mihawk exhaled sharply and stood, drawing Yoru from his back.
“Beelzebub, draw your blade.”
Sven raised both hands immediately.
“Alright, alright.
No need to get worked up.”
“Give me one more.
I will not object.”
Mihawk paused, then spoke.
“Dawn-Star.”
“The lone star that shines in the eastern sky before dawn, enduring the longest night while guiding the lost.”
“It represents hope, direction, and vigilance.”
Sven looked up at the sky, at that single bright point shining in the darkness.
Then he nodded.
“Mihawk, that name has style.”
“As expected of you.”
He stood and raised his glass high.
“From this moment on…”
“The Dawn-Star Pirates are officially established.”