The Drum Island was home to several towering peaks that resembled the shape of actual drums, standing proudly at the island's center.
These massive peaks rose thousands of meters into the sky, their slopes almost perfectly vertical. Their drum-like appearance gave the island its name and due to Drum Island's perpetual snowfall, the mountains were perpetually blanketed in thick, gleaming white snow. Fierce blizzards often swept across their faces, making the already treacherous terrain even more unforgiving.
Such harsh conditions deterred most climbers from even attempting to scale these peaks.
Yet now, a young man wearing little more than thin clothing was climbing one of the massive Drum Peaks located near Vilia Port and doing so at astonishing speed.
He used no tools. In fact, he wasn't even climbing with his hands. Instead, his bare feet alone bore the full weight of his ascent.
His posture was remarkable, his hands clasped behind his back, body perfectly vertical against the cliff face, maintaining a full ninety-degree angle with the ground as he climbed purely through the power of his legs and waist.
Naturally, it was his legs and especially his bare feet that bore the brunt of the strain.
His feet served as his only anchor points, carrying his entire body weight. The muscles in his legs bulged tight and taut, veins standing out sharply against the skin.
The cliffside rock, hardened over centuries of snow and wind, was as tough as steel yet beneath the young man's blackened toes, it might as well have been tofu. His feet pierced the rock effortlessly, digging in deep with every step.
Using this technique, he found stable footholds with ease, propelling himself upward with incredible leg and core strength running up the mountain face as if sprinting across solid ground.
The young man's endurance was nothing short of monstrous. In mere minutes, he had climbed to the halfway point of a peak more than six thousand meters tall.
But the higher he went, the thinner the air became. The cold grew sharper, and each breath took more out of him. Even someone of his strength could not ignore the toll of altitude and exhaustion. By the time he reached the mountainside, he was drenched in sweat and panting heavily forced to take a brief rest.
Yet, incredibly, only two or three minutes later, his breathing steadied. His stamina returned as if he had never been tired, and he resumed his climb with renewed speed ascending straight to the summit in one breathless push.
Atop the six-thousand-meter peak stretched a realm of ice and snow. Yet here stood a grand castle the private fortress of Gilbert.
The true royal castle of the Drum Kingdom stood atop the highest peak at the island's center, the seat of its monarch. To reside there was to hold absolute power.
Gilbert, unable to seize the royal throne, had poured vast sums of money into constructing his own castle atop one of the great Drum Peaks within his own territory near Vilia Port.
The castle was an almost exact replica of the king's, differing only in height, a clear reflection of his unbridled ambition, a spark that would one day ignite civil war.
As the young man reached the summit, several attendants were already waiting for him. Their eyes brimmed with awe as they watched the figure who had scaled the six-thousand-meter peak using nothing but his legs. They hurried forward, presenting steaming platters of food.
The young man wasted no time; he grabbed a roasted slab of sea beast meat several times larger than his head and devoured it in a few bites. In moments, it was gone and yet, his stomach showed no sign of swelling.
He continued eating consuming food many times larger than his own body weight, yet his stomach remained flat, as though everything he ate was instantly digested.
His monstrous appetite and unnatural metabolism left the attendants uneasy. Though they had served him many times before, witnessing it firsthand always made their skin crawl. To them, this man was a monster wearing human skin.
The mountain winds were fierce, sharp enough to cut the face like blades but the young man stood there unbothered, thin clothes flapping in the icy gale. He gazed quietly across the snowfield, at the endless black sea beyond, while his body recovered from exhaustion at an inhuman rate.
Soon, the pallor on his face vanished, replaced by a healthy flush. His stamina was nearly restored.
Then, before the stunned eyes of those around him, the young man stepped to the edge of the six-thousand-meter peak and leapt off without hesitation.
As he plummeted, his legs began to move as though pedaling an invisible bicycle kicking rapidly against the air.
Anyone watching would have been struck dumb by what they saw: the young man was moving horizontally while falling vertically traveling through the air as though he were running on it.
From such a great height, the fall took several minutes despite the resistance of the wind.
Two or three minutes later, the ground finally came into view. A normal man would have been reduced to a bloody smear.
But instead of shattering on impact, the young man burst apart transforming into a cloud of snow that scattered across the ground.
Moments later, the snow swirled together, gathering into a human shape. The young man reformed, completely unharmed.
"Failed again... Trying to learn Geppo the unorthodox way really isn't easy," he muttered, exhaling heavily. "Still, after climbing so many times and jumping so often, I'm starting to get the feel for it. Guess my leg strength still isn't quite there yet."
Aaron took a deep breath, undoing his elemental transformation, fatigue plain on his face.
Sitting down in the snow, he used his Munch Munch Fruit ability to consume nutrient-rich food stored in his pocket dimension, rapidly restoring his strength.
While recovering, he instinctively activated his Kenbunshoku Haki (Observation Haki), scanning the surroundings. Finding nothing unusual, he deactivated it and rested until he was ready to continue.
This time, instead of climbing by foot, he activated his Snow-Snow Fruit powers, creating a spiraling path of condensed snow winding up the mountain from the base to the summit.
The snow road was not fragile, it was as hard as steel, strong enough to support several men at once.
But using his Devil Fruit in this way was far more taxing than climbing by foot. After ascending barely a thousand meters, Aaron was already gasping for breath, forced to stop and replenish his strength by swallowing more stored food.
Half an hour later, his second attempt ended the same way, the snow road beneath him finally gave way under pressure as he reached halfway up, sending him tumbling down once more.
Even as he fell, he continued his air-stepping motion, practicing Geppo all the way down.
Boom!
He crashed into the ground again, shattering into snow upon impact.
Moments later, he reformed perfectly intact. Pulling out a Den Den Mushi, he calmly ordered the people on the summit to prepare another meal then turned back toward the mountain to begin his next climb.
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