Gol D. Ace In Coiling Dragon

In a secluded and peaceful corner of the O’Brien capital sat a large and beautiful estate. That estate was the Akerlund Estate.

Once upon a time, the Akerlund clan was one of the most prosperous and prominent clans of the O’Brien Empire, but one day over a decade ago, on the way back from an event in a neighbouring territory, the Akerlunds were hit by a sudden ambush by one of their enemies.

That ambush wiped out every single member of the Akerlund clan: everyone but Olivier and Blumer.

At the time, Olivier had been no older than Blumer was now, and Blumer was a mere toddler. With the senior members of their family no longer around, everyone had expected the Akerlunds to fall, and for a while, that was what happened, but that day sparked the meteoric rise of Olivier – The Prodigy Sword Saint.

Olivier had always been a top-tier talent, even among the elites, but the death of his family and his burning desire for revenge transformed him from your average genius to a talent seen only once every thousand years.

It had been 16 years since then, and not only had Olivier avenged the deaths of his family, he had also forced all the vultures who tried to take advantage of the diminishing might of the Akerlunds to bow down.

That fateful day forced him to turn from a warm and cheerful teen to a cold and stoic man overnight. Olivier’s cold and indifferent exterior made almost everyone around him uncomfortable.

There were only two people Olivier allowed to see his warmer and more gentle side. The first was his best friend, Talore. The two of them had been best friends since they were toddlers. Although strangely enough, prior to the Akerlund massacre, Talore had been the more talented of the two.

The second was his baby brother, Blumer. Olivier had always loved and doted on his little brother, but after their family’s death, his protective nature magnified. He would die before he allowed any harm to come to his one remaining family member, so one could imagine how he felt upon seeing his baby brother’s slightly dishevelled appearance and distraught expression as he and Talore entered the fields at the back of the Akerlund estate where he was training.

“Blumer?” Olivier asked as he re-sheathed his sword. “What happened?”

Blumer looked at his older brother, unable to find the words to reply immediately.

“We met that kid – Gol D. Ace,” Talore explained, seeing the hesitation on Blumer.

“Today?” Olivier asked in surprise before his aura became especially cold. “Did he hurt you?”

“It’s nothing like that,” Talore sighed when he saw his best friend’s overprotective side threatening to rear its head.

This wouldn’t be the first time that Olivier’s protective nature caused him to act out on impulse. Back when Blumer first joined the Academy, before he could grow into a powerful warrior who could handle himself, some of the older students whose families had grudges with the Akerlund clan took it upon themselves to try and bully him.

Upon learning about what was happening to his baby brother, Olivier decided to make a point that no family of the Empire would dare forget. He singlehandedly forced his way into the estates of each of the daring families and beat each of their experts to within an inch of their lives.

That was the day that each of the patriarchs of all families in their Empire passed down a message to each of their family members that Blumer was strictly off-limits.

“He came on behalf of his school to challenge the Academy,” Talore explained slowly.

“I see,” Olivier nodded, able to guess the results of the challenge.

Even though he would never let his brother be bullied, he also held the valiant pride of a true warrior. If it were a fair fight between Blumer and someone else of his generation, he wouldn’t go searching to avenge his brother’s loss.

“You weren’t kidding about his talent,” Talore sighed. “In the end, even I was forced to admit defeat.”

“You were?!” Olivier’s eyes widened.

It had to be remembered that the last time he had seen that little monster, Ace had only been as strong as a warrior at the early stages of the ninth rank, and even that had been a bitter battle. He thought he was already being lenient with his estimations when he guessed Ace’s strength had gone up by one sub-rank. After all, the gap between sub-ranks at the ninth rank was no joke, but this…

He knew full well just how strong his friend was; even though he was only at the early stages of the ninth rank, he was easily as strong as a peak ninth-rank warrior. The only mortals who could defeat Talore were those who held the power of a general.

“I couldn’t even get close enough to land a single hit,” Talore sighed with a wry smile. “And if what you said about him being a better warrior than mage is true, considering he didn’t pick up his weapon even once, he was still holding back quite a bit.”

It took Olivier several seconds before his thoughts finally calmed enough to speak. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know,” Talore shrugged. “After he dispersed that final spell, he disappeared into the skies.”

“I see,” Olivier said with a hint of disappointment.

If Talore’s words were true, Olivier guessed that Ace’s strength must’ve reached the power of a general, and by the sounds of it, he would be pretty strong even among the generals.

His battle intent couldn’t help but surge. During the war with the Rohault Empire, he had lost in his battle against General Kaymin, and with him now being a saint, he was even less of a match. Still, in the last year, stimulated by his loss, Olivier’s strength had seen quite an improvement.

He understood how strong General Kaymin had been at the time; still, if he got the opportunity to face him as he was back then, he was confident in his chances.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” Talore smiled, knowing what this battle-hungry friend was thinking. “Before he left, he said he’d be going to challenge the students of the War God’s College in two days.”

“I see,” Olivier replied, feelings of anticipation raising the corners of his lips. “It’s been a while since I stepped out of the estate.”

Rumours of Ace’s arrival were spreading throughout the empire. Everyone was shocked to hear that the tales of the teen’s power didn’t appear to be exaggerated in the slightest, but more than that, they were ashamed that their world-renowned academy was unable to find anyone to be his match, even amongst the staff.

Many were gearing up to head up War God’s mountain to watch the outcome of the upcoming battle, praying that one of the geniuses there would be up to the task. Otherwise, it would be too humiliating.

At the same time, a little outside the capital stood two enormous mountains, the peak of the taller piercing straight through the clouds.

The shorter was War God Mountain, the home of the War God’s College; the taller was Bluethunder Peak, the home of the War God’s disciples.

If one were to enter the secret tunnels embedded into Bluethunder Peak and follow them several kilometres, one would find yourself several hundred meters beneath ground level; the deeper one went, the hotter the temperature would become.

At the end of those tunnels was a small man-made cave, and the temperature within was so hot that one would need the strength of a saint to barely resist. Currently inside were two men, the man closest to the jet-black marble doors was a tall and thin man with bright blue hair. That man was the War God’s eldest disciple and one of the continent’s few prime saints – Fain.

Opposite him was a man who stood at around five foot nine, with thick eyebrows and long scarlet hair that reached down to his waist, dressed in crimson robes that mysteriously seemed to be made of fire. He was the Empire’s patron saint and Ace’s biological father – The War God O’Brien!

“Ooh, so such a talented youth appeared?” O’Brien asked with a hint of intrigue.

“According to the rumours, he’ll be making his way to the college in two days to challenge the students,” Fain explained, having heard the rumours from an emissary of the royal family.

“Interesting,” O’Brien replied, his usually stone-faced expression cracking to show a hint of amusement. “I want you to watch the little competition personally. If he really is as talented as the rumours say, he can become my 28th disciple.”

“That might be a little difficult,” Fain replied with an amused smile. “According to rumours, he was on the side of the Rohault Empire. It appears he has already sided against us.”

“Hmph! The Rohault Empire is only standing today because I allow them to be the tool that sharpens the soldiers of my Empire.” O’Brien snorted disdainfully. “I wonder if he’d dare to reject the temptation to become the disciple of a deity because of some foolish sense of loyalty to a second-rate power.”