Reborn as Mihawk's son-one piece

The morning sun painted the horizon with hues of gold and crimson as Ezra stood on the deck of his ship. His golden eyes scanned the endless expanse of the sea, the soft breeze carrying with it the salty tang of the ocean. The Sea's Heart crystal lay dormant in its protective casing, the once-blinding glow now reduced to a faint shimmer.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, the waters were calm. The storm that had raged the previous night was now a distant memory, but its aftermath lingered in Ezra's mind. The cursed ship, the skeletal crew, the shadow that had nearly consumed him—each moment was seared into his memory, a stark reminder of the dangers that came with seeking power.

Ezra leaned against the railing, his thoughts drifting. His muscles ached from the battle, but it wasn't physical fatigue that weighed on him. It was the question that had haunted him since the fight: What price would he have to pay for the Sea's Heart?

The sound of footsteps broke his reverie. Turning, he saw Roan, the navigator, approaching. The older man's weathered face was etched with concern, his gray beard glinting in the morning light.

"YouYou\uve been out here all night," Roan said, his voice gruff but tinged with worry. "You should rest, Captain."

Ezra shook his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Rest can wait. We're not out of danger yet."

Roan glanced at the crystal, his expression darkening. "That thing… it's not natural. The crew's uneasy. They've seen what it can do."

"So have I," Ezra replied, his tone serious. "But it's a tool, Roan. Nothing more. What matters is how we use it."

The navigator didn't look convinced. "And what happens if it decides to use us instead?"

Ezra had no answer for that. He turned back to the sea, his grip tightening on the railing. The question wasn't new, but it stung every time someone voiced it. The crystal's power was undeniable, but so was the danger it posed. He had taken it, mastered its trials, but mastery didn't mean understanding.

A sudden cry from the crow's nest shattered the quiet. "Ship on the horizon!"

Ezra's eyes snapped upward, following the lookout's outstretched arm. Sure enough, a dark silhouette loomed on the edge of the horizon, its sails full and heading straight for them.

"Roan, get the crew ready," Ezra ordered, his voice calm but firm. "We don't know if they're friend or foe, but I'm not taking any chances."

Roan nodded and hurried off, barking orders. The crew sprang into action, the quiet morning replaced by the clatter of boots on wood and the creak of rigging. Ezra watched them work, pride mingling with apprehension. His crew was loyal and skilled, but they weren't invincible.

As the ship drew closer, its details became clearer. The vessel was smaller than Ezra's but fast, its sleek design built for speed. Its flag bore a symbol Ezra didn't recognize—a serpent coiled around a trident, its fangs bared.

"Privateers," Roan muttered as he returned to Ezra's side. "Or worse."

Ezra nodded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "They're coming straight for us. Ready the cannons, but hold fire until I give the signal."

The other ship closed the distance quickly, its crew visible now. They were a rough-looking bunch, armed to the teeth and clearly prepared for a fight. At their helm stood a woman with a commanding presence, her dark hair tied back in a braid and a wicked smile on her lips.

"Captain Ezra," she called out as their ships came alongside each other. Her voice was smooth but carried an edge. "You've made quite a name for yourself."

Ezra stepped forward, meeting her gaze. "And you are?"

She gave a mock bow. "Captain Seraphine. And that," she pointed to the crystal, "is what I've come for."

Ezra's eyes narrowed. "You're not the first to try. You won't be the last. But you're welcome to try."

Seraphine's smile widened. "Confident. I like that. But this isn't just about power, Captain. The Sea's Heart doesn't belong to you. It belongs to the sea, and I intend to return it."

"Funny," Ezra said, drawing his sword. "It didn't seem to mind when it chose me."

Seraphine's expression hardened. "Then you've sealed your fate."

With a wave of her hand, her crew sprang into action, grappling hooks flying across the gap between the ships. The battle began in an instant, steel clashing against steel as the two crews collided.

Ezra fought with precision, his movements fluid and deadly. Seraphine was nowhere to be seen, but he could feel her presence, watching, waiting. He knew she was no ordinary opponent. Her crew fought with a unity and discipline that suggested more than simple piracy.

As the fight raged on, Ezra spotted Seraphine at the edge of the deck, her eyes fixed on the crystal. She moved toward it, her steps deliberate and confident. Ezra broke away from the fight, intercepting her path.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, his blade at the ready.

Seraphine smirked, drawing her own weapon—a slender rapier with an ornate hilt. "I was hoping we'd get to dance."

Their swords met with a sharp clang, the force of the impact reverberating through Ezra's arm. Seraphine was fast, her strikes precise and unrelenting. But Ezra was no stranger to skilled opponents. He matched her blow for blow, their movements a deadly ballet.

"You're good," Seraphine said, her voice light despite the intensity of their duel. "But this isn't a fight you can win."

"We'll see about that," Ezra replied, pushing her back with a powerful strike.

The battle continued, the clash of their swords a symphony of steel. Around them, their crews fought fiercely, the outcome of the skirmish hanging in the balance.

As the sun climbed higher into the sky, Ezra felt a surge of determination. He couldn't afford to lose—not to Seraphine, not to anyone. The Sea's Heart was his, and he would protect it with everything he had.