"The World's Greatest Swordsman against the most famous Pirate Hunter in the East Blue... what kind of battle is this going to be?"
On the deck of the Baratie, Patty gripped his fork with trembling hands, swallowing hard. The very air felt thick and heavy, like treading through molasses.
"Aniki won't lose!!" Johnny and Yosaku shouted from the lower deck, their voices cracking. "Go, Aniki! Show him the power of the Three-Sword Style!"
In the center of the wreckage, Hawk-Eye looked at the young swordsman who, despite facing an inevitable defeat, radiated an even fiercer battle intent. In those golden eyes, as calm as an ancient well, a flicker of genuine emotion finally surfaced.
He reached up and slowly unhooked the small golden cross hanging from his neck.
"Heart-wrenching," Mihawk said softly, his tone unreadable. "But reality is reality. I am not like the foolish beasts who think roaring makes them strong."
Ching.
He pulled the bottom of the cross, revealing a sharp blade no longer than a few centimeters.
"Even if you are a swordsman of some renown, this is the East Blue—the weakest of the four seas. Regrettably, I don't carry any blade smaller than this for an opponent of your level."
The words hit Zoro like a physical blow. He bit down on the Wado Ichimonji so hard his gums bled.
"Underestimating people... should have a limit!!"
Thump!
Zoro's feet shattered the deck as he lunged forward like an enraged tiger. "Don't regret this when you're dead! Bastard!!"
Faced with this furious charge, Mihawk simply stood his ground. He raised the "toy" knife as Zoro bore down on him.
"Frog in a well... let me show you how vast the world truly is."
"Oni Giri (Ogre Cutter)!!"
Zoro held nothing back, opening with his strongest technique. Three blades acted as spectral fangs, sealing off every possible escape route.
Ha!!
What happened next left everyone speechless. Mihawk's expression didn't change, and he didn't move an inch. He simply thrust the tiny knife forward in a seemingly casual motion.
Clink!!
With a crisp, heart-wrenching sound of clashing steel, Zoro's unstoppable momentum came to a dead halt.
The tiny knife was pressed with surgical precision against the exact focal point where Zoro's three blades met.
It acted like an immovable pillar; no matter how much strength Zoro poured into his arms, he could not move forward a single millimeter.
"Zoro... h-how is that possible..." Luffy's jaw dropped.
Johnny and Yosaku were drenched in cold sweat. "That... that's Aniki's ultimate move! He's never missed! And it was stopped by a toy?!"
Viktor sat on the railing, his two-tomoe Sharingan spinning rapidly to capture every detail. Incredible, he thought.
He saw it clearly: despite it being their first encounter, Mihawk had identified the sole structural weakness in Zoro's technique in a heartbeat. It wasn't just strength—it was a dimensional strike in the realm of swordsmanship mastery.
"That move... that's the result of decades of refined essence," Viktor whispered.
Zoro grit his teeth, the veins on his forehead bulging to the point of bursting. But the small knife felt like an insurmountable mountain.
"How... how could something like a toy..." Zoro roared, retracting his blades and spinning into a frantic, storm-like assault. Clang! Clang! Clang!
But no matter the angle or the speed, Mihawk parried every strike with the tiny cross-knife as if he were taking a casual stroll in a garden. He moved so little that the hem of his coat barely fluttered.
It was, quite literally, an old master playing with a toddler.
"Too slow." Mihawk gave a slight push.
Bang! Zoro lost his balance and tumbled across the deck, rolling several times before coming to a stop.
"ANIKI!" Johnny and Yosaku screamed. "Go all out! Stop playing around!"
"SHUT UP!!" Zoro roared as he scrambled to his feet, his eyes bloodshot. His three blades became a blur of frantic motion. "Tora Hunt (Tiger Hunt)!"
Mihawk simply took half a step back, his eyes remaining placid. "Such a chaotic style. It's riddled with openings."
Another strike was parried effortlessly. The surviving pirates watched in a cold sweat. "He's blocking Roronoa Zoro's Three-Sword Style... with a nail-clipper?"
I... I didn't spend my life swinging a sword just to be mocked by a toy!! Zoro's mind screamed in desperation. A vision of a girl with short hair and a white sword under the moonlight flashed through his mind. Kuina...
In that split second of distraction—Putch! Mihawk seized the opening, driving the small blade into Zoro's shoulder and knocking him to the floor.
"Huff... huff... damn it!" Zoro pushed himself up, blood dripping onto the wood. "I have... a reason I absolutely cannot lose!!"
He pulled both swords back, his muscles coiling like a bowstring. Every ounce of his being was poured into this final effort. "Three-Sword Style: HUNT!!"
However, as Zoro lunged, Mihawk simply thrust the small blade out one more time.
Squelch!
The tiny knife sank deep into Zoro's chest. Zoro's momentum died instantly. His hands hung limp at his sides, but he didn't retreat a single step.
"Do you wish to be pierced through the heart?" Mihawk asked, his voice low and solemn. "Why do you not step back?"
Blood spilled from the corner of Zoro's mouth, staining his teeth red. "I don't know... I don't know myself..." his voice was weak but firm.
"I only know that if I take even one step back here... all those past vows, and many, many important things... they would all crumble and break in that instant. If that happens... I could never return to this spot again."
Mihawk spoke flatly, "That is what we call defeat."
"Yeah... in that case, I definitely can't step back."
"Even if it means death?"
"Death... is better than losing!!"
Zoro looked up, his eyes burning with the flame of "Dignity." In the weakest of seas, Mihawk had found the strongest of hearts. The boredom in Mihawk's eyes vanished, replaced by a profound seriousness.
"You would prefer death over defeat?"
Mihawk slowly withdrew the small knife and tucked it away with great ceremony. "Young man, state your name."
Zoro took a deep breath and resumed his Three-Sword stance—the highest etiquette of a swordsman. "Roronoa Zoro!"
"I shall remember it," Mihawk nodded. "A strong one, the likes of which I haven't seen in a long time."
Then, he asked softly, "Why do you swing your sword? To cut down the enemy before you?"
Zoro blinked, then shouted as if it were obvious: "Of course! To get stronger! To defeat masters like you! To become the World's Greatest!"
"That... is why you are weak."
Zoro's pupils contracted. "What did you say?!"
Mihawk didn't look at him; he looked at his hand, as if speaking to himself. "A sword is a fragile thing; the tighter you grip it, the more it wants to break. Your blade is cluttered with 'desire'—the desire to win, the desire to cut, the desire to be famous. These desires are like weeds, tangling your edge and making it dull."
He looked back at Zoro. "When your eyes are fixed only on the title of 'Strongest,' you fail to see the road beneath your feet, the flow of the wind, or the breadth of the world. Right now, you are nothing but a wild beast charging blindly. And a beast... can never defeat a man!"
Zoro stood frozen, the words striking him like lightning. A beast...?
Mihawk slowly drew the Black Blade: Yoru.
"However, as a sign of respect to you as a fellow swordsman, I shall use the World's Strongest Black Blade to send you to the depths."
Zoro snapped out of it. Looking at the terrifying aura of the black sword, a smile of pure liberation touched his lips. "Then... I am truly grateful!!"
The wind picked up. Zoro stared at Mihawk as he began to move, his two hand-held blades spinning into a blur.
"Three-Sword Style Secret Technique!!" "SANZEN SEKAI (THREE THOUSAND WORLDS)!!!"
The two crossed paths.
CHING—!!
Then came the heart-stopping sound of snapping steel.
Clatter.
The two ordinary katanas in Zoro's hands snapped in two, falling to the deck. Only the Wado Ichimonji in his mouth remained whole. Zoro slowly sheathed his remaining blade, turned around, and spread his arms wide, facing Mihawk.
"I lost... I never thought... I would lose..."
"What are you doing?" Mihawk asked, surprised by the posture.
Zoro gave a brilliant, clear smile. "A scar on the back... is a swordsman's shame!!"
Mihawk looked at the man, and a smile of genuine admiration finally broke across his face. "Magnificent!! Roronoa Zoro!!"
SQUELCH!!
The Black Blade fell. A massive diagonal wound erupted across Zoro's chest, and blood sprayed into the air, painting the horizon red.
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