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Celtillus Arverni looked down at the docks from the balcony of the Arverni’s Spring Manor. His arm was wrapped around his wife, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched their son and his slaves board the Dauntless. Celtillus had originally arranged for the Proud Victory to be his son’s flagship, but the powerful ship had been sunk by three pirate crews teaming up two days prior.

“There he goes, my boy setting out to carve his name into history,” Camila said under his arm, sniffing as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It must be his middle name, ensuring that he was destined for greatness.”

Celtillus unconsciously tightened his one armed hug. Much as he cared for Camila, he wasn’t blind to the fact that she had the intelligence of a particularly dim sea slug. Which was why she’d never really understood that the Will of D didn’t mark its bearers for greatness, but as enemies of the gods. Them.

Even with Vegapunk’s tampering before Dreki was born, naming him as a D was a gamble. Vegapunk was easily the most brilliant scientist alive, but when dealing with things as ephemeral as Ds, there were few guarantees. Still, to all appearances, Vegapunk’s modifications had worked. In fact, Vegapunk had done even better than Celtillus had ever anticipated.

The physical modifications were subtle, as Celtillus had requested. Unlike that oaf that played around in North Blue, Celtillus didn’t need Dreki to be a super soldier out of the womb. It was crude, inelegant, and, as both Garp and Roger had proved, completely unnecessary. Dreki’s physical modifications had a single effect: he recovered faster after exerting effort.

It was simple, but it had a cascade effect the more he trained. And train Dreki did, even beyond what Celtillus had mandated when Dreki was young. Not only did he eagerly train himself, he actively sought out those that would improve his training, even going so far as to forge Celtillus’s handwriting when he was six in order to have Garp come out to their manor specifically to train him.

The head slave of the manor had noticed that it was a forgery immediately, but Celtillus had been amused by Dreki’s boldness and made it official. After calling Dreki to his study and asking for the boy’s reasoning.

“Every trainer here is attempting to force me to learn the Rokushiki instead of focusing on my body. They’re soft and stupid, always going on and on about this or that technique. I don’t need them, so I did some research and found someone who wouldn’t go soft on me.”

Celtillus gave a small chuckle at the memory, Dreki was certainly an unusual boy. Still, as the Dauntless led the rest of the fleet out of the harbor, Celtillus let out a sigh. As fond as Dreki was of his slaves, even if the boy would never admit it, Celtillus was still uneasy about letting the Aesyr women such dignity as Dreki had.

He was certain that the mother had something to do with Dreki’s interest in this archipelago. Celtillus knew Dreki better than Dreki himself did, and simply having another kingdom to his name wouldn’t be enough to catch his interest like this. She was a lot more cunning than those who couldn’t look above her clavicle would realize.

Which had made the meeting with her the other night far more… interesting than most he engaged in. It wasn’t nearly on the level of when he’d made the deals with the Elder Stars for Vegapunk’s services, but it was the closest he’d had to those meetings in years.

It was annoying, seeing the calculating look on her face as she realized that there was something bigger going on, but giving her the deadline for herself and her daughter to be carrying Dreki’s children by the end of the year was needed. To be honest, Celtillus was surprised that Dreki hadn’t had some bastards by now, and he’d looked for them.

Dreki’d made use of one of the maids for his first time, the one with the massive chest that Celtillus himself had enjoyed enough to allow her to bear a child of his. The girl was roughly Dreki’s age, and wasn’t quite as endowed as her mother at the same age, but she was fiercely loyal. If the Aesyr woman moved against Dreki, the girl and Dreki’s pet mink would intercept.

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I forced down a growl of annoyance. I had been on the ship for less than an hour, and had to reiterate, more than five times, that I wasn’t going to order everyone on the ship executed for so much as breathing in my general direction. The rest of the world nobles were so wasteful, causing those to serve us to have such fears.

The captain of the ship, a woman with features that resembled those native to Wano but slightly different, had looked befuddled when I’d told her that I expected her to not restrain herself if I was doing something to jeopardize the ship or crew at any point. I had little experience managing a ship, of course she would know better than I would!

Her bewilderment had only increased when I’d pointed out that very obvious fact. Ancestors, spare me from the stupidity of the rest of the world nobles. Still, the captain had told me after that that for the time being, I would best serve by familiarizing myself with my accommodations. A more polite way of telling me to stay out of the way.

Thus I was making my way to the quarters my retinue had been provided. My sister was integrating herself with the ship’s support staff, Loona was undoubtedly heading to the kitchens, Thrud almost certainly was looking for a sparring partner, and Sif was most likely…

My thoughts on Sif came to a screeching halt as I entered my quarters. They were small, relatively speaking, a mere ten by fifteen feet. But on a warship, where every centimeter of space was needed, it was opulent in size. That wasn’t what had surprised me. It was the fact that Sif was already here, showing more skin than I’d ever seen on her.

Closing the door behind me, I gazed upon her naked back, her long hair in its usual braid over her shoulder. Her pale white skin was smooth and unblemished, save for the Arverni slave brand, a looping knotted triangle interwoven around a circle, on her upper back, directly between her shoulder blades.

The sound of the door closing had her looking at me over her shoulder, her blue eyes meeting my gaze.

“Master,” she said, something in her voice going straight to my groin. “Shall we christen the bed?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to concentrate and not be distracted by Sif’s nakedness, and asked, “You have expressed no sexual interest in me thus far. What changed?”

Sif smirked, turning around, baring her front to me, the rest of the world fading from my focus as my gaze was drawn to her large breasts, her pink nipples stiff and standing at attention. Her stomach was smooth and toned, her legs just as muscular and shapely, her womanhood already wet, the scent reaching my nose, and making me unconsciously lick my lips.

“Does it matter, Master?” she asked, moving towards me, swaying her hips with each step, her arms behind her back, pushing her full breasts out.

She pressed herself up against me, her breasts pillowing against my chest, her mouth an inch from mine. Her hands came up, her fingers undoing the buttons of my uniform jacket. I grabbed her by her shoulders, pushing her back away from me, and held her at arm's length.

“Yes, it does,” I stated, forcing myself to think past her breasts. Her soft, gravity defying breasts.

Sif chuckled, “I had been considering it beforehand, seeing your performance against your father. Him telling me two nights ago that if Thrud and I were not pregnant with your children by the end of the year, he would have us removed from serving you…”

I growled, low in my throat. Sif and Thrud were mine, and I would destroy anyone who tried to take what was mine.

Sif smiled, continuing, “And then the fact that the entire world is yours for the taking.”

She moved, pushing me back, my back hitting the door. She pushed her breasts against my chest, and leaned her mouth against my ear.

“Seeing how strong you are, how skilled you are, how powerful you are. Knowing that no one else will ever have a chance to compare to you. You could have any woman in the world, and they would worship you. The thought of the strongest, smartest, and most beautiful man in the world, the only one who can claim to be my Master. My owner. My lover. My king. I couldn't help myself. I want to make you happy, I want to give you everything. Let me prove it, Master,” she whispered in my ear, her voice light and breathy.

She kissed my cheek, moving her mouth back to mine, her hands finishing undoing my jacket. I pulled her closer, kissing her roughly. She moaned into the kiss, her hands grabbing at my clothes, trying to get me naked as quickly as possible.

I moved away from the door, pulling her along. She didn't break the kiss, not even as she helped me get my clothes off, our tongues fighting for dominance. I pushed her down onto the bed, not breaking the kiss as she landed on her back. She broke the kiss, pushing her head up, trying to keep the contact, not wanting the kiss to end.

I got up, taking in the sight of her. Her large breasts heaved, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her hair was splayed out beneath her, the blonde locks standing out against the red sheets. Her legs were spread, her womanhood glistening with her juices. Her blue eyes were staring up at me, begging me to join her on the bed.

Moving between her legs, I leaned over her, capturing her lips again. Her hands ran down my sides, grabbing onto my ass. She pulled me forward, pulling me into her. I groaned as my cock sank into her, her folds parting, allowing me to bury myself in her to the base.

Her inner walls clenched around me, her legs wrapping around my waist, not allowing me to pull back. My tongue slid into her mouth, dominating her, claiming her. Her hips bucked, grinding herself against me, a small gasp slipping past her lips as I hit a particular spot.

I began to thrust, my balls slapping against her ass, my body pressing against her, her breasts squishing together. Her legs tightened, keeping me from pulling back too far. I kept going, not relenting. Her hands gripped the back of my head, her fingers digging into my scalp.

I continued, feeling the tension begin to build. She felt perfect, the way her pussy clamped down around my cock, her folds pulling me back in each time I tried to pull back, the way she would let out small moans and gasps each time I buried myself in her, her nails digging into my skin.

She pulled me deeper, her mouth opening, trying to say something, but unable to form words. Her juices flowed, coating my cock. I pushed my hips against her, grinding myself against her. I kissed her harder, forcing my tongue further into her mouth.

I could feel her body trembling beneath me, her pussy growing even tighter, squeezing down around me. I grit my teeth, attempting to make our coupling last longer. But she was so warm, and wet, and tight, and I was so close.

I felt the tension reach a breaking point, and I released, my cum exploding into her. She tightened her grip, her legs holding me in place, making sure that every drop of my seed was deposited inside her. As the climax faded, I broke the kiss, looking down at her. She panted, her eyes half-lidded.

The next thing I knew, she’d rolled us over, so I was on my back and she was straddling my hips. Her pussy clamped down along my length, keeping me from softening.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” she asked, rolling her hips in a circle.

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Sif ran a hand over her stomach as the shower water ran over her. She and Thor had decided to stop after Thrud was born, and she hadn’t expected her father-in-law to be so foolish as to anger the Elder Stars, so she hadn’t planned on being a mother again. But as much as she missed Thor, and as irritating as the threat that the elder Arverni made was, she could admit to herself that she and Thrud had been fortunate that Dreki had chosen to claim them.

Gathering a handful of shampoo, she started the long process of washing her hair, continuing her train of thought as she did so. While the elder Arverni was far more involved with the actual governance of the World Government than most World Nobles, his own activities in such paled in comparison to his son’s. Not only that, his tastes were positively mundane, with none of the excess expected of nobility in any aspect of his life.

When Sif and Thrud had been given the Arverni brand, all she’d known about Dreki was that he was the heir of the Arverni family. Her spy network had picked up that the Arverni had something of Vegapunk’s from shortly before the death of the Pirate King, but hadn’t been able to learn what. Though Celtillus’s ultimatum made it obvious in retrospect.

Said spy network had been the one to find rumors of an isolated New World archipelago with groves of adam trees. Wotan had intercepted one of her network’s missives, and that had resulted in his failed gambit. A gambit that both she and Thor had spoken out against. Asgard was strong, but not strong enough to fight off the rest of the world! The first battle had resulted in Magni and Modi’s deaths, and then when Thor refused to lead another fruitless assault to secure Sabaody, Wotan killed Thor himself.

Sif had been prepared to turn the entirety of her network against Wotan, but she hadn’t needed to. Dreki had arrived on Asgard’s shores at the head of several Marine battle fleets. Baldur and Heimdal had fallen quickly, far faster than she or Wotan had expected. Then Dreki faced Wotan, and slain him.

That act alone had spared him from Sif making use of some of the untraceable toxins that Freya had shown her. The fact that he hadn’t immediately bedded her or Thrud upon their branding had spared him the rest of them. Finding and procuring the Shock Shock Fruit, Thor’s fruit, before giving it to Thrud had earned him Sif ensuring that whispers of the adam groves reached his ears.

Sif let out a long breath as she turned off the shower. She had a few more ideas for how to progress with Dreki. She’d seen the look in his eyes when she’d told him about his father’s ultimatum to her and Thrud, and it had presented possibilities. As fond as she’d come to be of him, she was still furious at having gone from noble to slave.

With Dreki as her owner though, especially when combined with his opinions on extravagance, excess, what he considered wasteful, and his middle initial… it would take some careful maneuvering, saying the correct words at just the right time, but with several kingdoms to his name, if he was smart and careful about it, he’d be able to bring more than just a single World Noble family to heel.