One Piece: Rise of Valoria

The air in the arena was thick with anticipation. The Celestial Dragons, dressed in their opulent and bizarre garments, watched from their high perches with gleaming eyes, eager for the bloodshed that was to come. Mary Geoise—the shining capital atop the Red Line—was no place for ordinary people. Only the elite, the untouchable rulers of the world, could witness the atrocities that occurred in the depths of the fighting pits. This was their private entertainment, a twisted form of gambling that cost the lives of slaves every day. And today, William was their star attraction.

Stepping into the arena, the heat of the midday sun beat down on William's back, but he felt nothing. His long sandy blonde hair was tied back loosely, and his bright green eyes scanned the arena with cold indifference. Five years of brutal training had prepared him for this, and his body—tall, muscular, and scarred—was now a testament to his survival. At twelve years old, he was an anomaly in size and strength, standing at 1.8 meters and built like a warrior far beyond his years.

But the true strength lay not in his size, but in the power that flowed beneath his skin. Armament Haki hardened his fists, while his Observation Haki heightened his senses, making him more attuned to the subtle movements of his surroundings. In the five years since he had been captured, William had become something far more dangerous than a mere boy.

Across from him, the iron gate on the opposite side of the arena creaked open. His opponent stepped out, towering even above William. The man was a behemoth, easily 7 feet tall, his body rippling with muscles that looked as though they had been forged in countless battles. Scars littered his chest and arms, each one telling the story of a life lived on the edge of death. His face was twisted into a sneer, his eyes bloodshot and wild with fury. This was no ordinary slave—this was a pirate.

"Oi, kid," the pirate growled, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward. "You're gonna regret stepping into this pit with me."

The crowd roared in approval. They knew this man. Once a feared pirate, he had a bounty of 300 million Berries on his head before being captured by the Navy. But what made him even more dangerous was the Zoan Fruit he wielded—the **Beaver-Beaver Fruit**, which allowed him to transform into a massive, armored beaver hybrid. He had crushed many opponents in this form, and now he stood before William, ready to add another kill to his record.

William, however, remained silent. His eyes were locked on the pirate, his fists clenching at his sides. There was no fear in his heart, only a cold determination. This was what he had been trained for. Five years of pain, suffering, and brutality had brought him to this moment. And he wasn't going to lose.

The pirate laughed, his voice booming across the arena. "What's the matter, kid? Scared already?" His body began to shift, bones cracking and muscles expanding as he activated his Zoan powers. His skin thickened, and his form became bulkier, fur sprouting across his body as he transformed into a half-beaver, half-human monstrosity. His massive, flat tail slammed against the ground with a loud **THUD**, causing the sand to scatter in all directions.

"Last chance to run, brat," the pirate taunted, baring his sharp, beaver-like teeth. "When I'm done with you, you'll be nothing but a smear on the ground."

William still said nothing. His gaze remained locked on his opponent, unblinking, as the pirate charged at him with all his might. The ground shook beneath the pirate's heavy steps, but William didn't flinch.

As the pirate swung his massive arm, William sidestepped effortlessly, his Observation Haki allowing him to sense the attack before it came. The pirate's fist slammed into the sand, creating a small crater where William had just stood. Enraged, the pirate roared and swung again, but William was already on the move, ducking and weaving with precision.

"You little—!" The pirate's voice was cut off as William's hardened fist, coated in Armament Haki, slammed into his ribs. The force of the blow was enough to send the hulking beast stumbling backward, shock and anger flashing across his face.

"Don't underestimate me," William said coldly, his voice low and devoid of emotion.

The pirate growled, clutching his side where William had struck him. For the first time, a flicker of doubt appeared in his eyes. This wasn't the fight he had expected. This kid—this slave—wasn't afraid of him. Worse, the boy was strong. Far stronger than he had anticipated.

"You think you're tough, huh?" the pirate spat, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "I'll crush you!"

With a guttural roar, the pirate lunged at William again, transforming fully into his beaver form. His massive tail swung toward William like a wrecking ball, but William met it head-on, his Armament Haki-infused fist colliding with the tail in a deafening impact. The pirate's eyes widened in shock as his tail splintered under the force of William's punch.

William wasted no time. In a blur of movement, he closed the distance between them, his fists moving with deadly precision. Each blow was brutal, calculated, and unrelenting. The pirate could do little to defend himself as William's fists tore through his defenses, breaking bones and rupturing organs with every hit.

The crowd, once jeering and laughing, now watched in stunned silence as the twelve-year-old boy systematically dismantled the once-feared pirate. There was no hesitation, no mercy. William was a force of nature, and he fought with the cold efficiency of someone who had long since abandoned any trace of humanity.

The pirate collapsed to the ground, his body broken and battered. Blood pooled beneath him as he struggled to breathe, his eyes filled with disbelief. He had lost.

But William wasn't done.

With one final, savage blow, William brought his fist down onto the pirate's skull, ending the fight with a sickening crack. The pirate's body went limp, and the arena fell into a tense, eerie silence. The spectators, Celestial Dragons who had come for entertainment, now sat in stunned awe at the sheer brutality they had just witnessed.

William stood over the pirate's corpse, his chest heaving, his fists still clenched. There was no triumph in his eyes, only emptiness. This was his life now—death, violence, and blood.

The boy who had once laughed, once cared for others, was gone. All that remained was a weapon—a weapon that the Celestial Dragons would continue to use until there was nothing left.

As the gate behind him opened, William turned and walked out of the arena, the roar of the crowd finally resuming behind him. But their cheers meant nothing to him.

He had won. But in truth, he had lost everything.