Marineford, Marine Headquarters Training Ground
Sword light like snow, sword energy crisscrossing the air! The midday sun beat down on the center of the training ground, and on a patch of scorching hot ground, Zoro and Kuina's figures clashed like lightning.
The spectator stands and the edge of the training ground were already crowded with cadets and stationed Marine officers. The duel, so fierce it was almost a life-and-death battle, made everyone hold their breath.
"How old are those two? What level of duel is this?"
"This is already a battle at the level of a master swordsman, isn't it?!"
The crowd buzzed with discussion, their eyes filled with shock. In the center of the training ground, Zoro and Kuina's figures flashed and clashed, the sound of their blades ringing out continuously, sparks flying like fireworks.
"Two-Sword Style: Hawk Wave!"
Zoro suddenly put his strength into it, and his two swords slashed out horizontally. The shockwave surged, and the force of his swords swept up the dust and sand on the ground.
Kuina's eyes narrowed. She lightly tapped her foot, and her figure swept past Zoro's side like a stream of light, Wado Ichimonji drawing a silver arc. "Flash: Moonlight!"
"CLANG—!!!"
The sword lights collided, and sparks flew. The two of them slid back at the same time, their feet leaving several cracks in the stone tiles. The next instant, Kuina charged and appeared at Zoro's left, the tip of her sword steadily pointing at his throat, just half an inch away.
A gasp went through the crowd at the side.
"2314 wins, 0 losses," Kuina panted slightly and sheathed her sword.
Zoro gritted his teeth, his brow furrowed, but there was not a trace of resentment, but rather his eyes were like fire. "...Next time, I will definitely win."
Kuina nodded lightly, a very faint smile on her lips. But the moment she turned her back, the hand holding her sword trembled almost imperceptibly. It was not from nervousness or fatigue, but from holding on after her stamina had been completely depleted.
"My stamina... it can't keep up again...?" In her mind, her father's low yet piercing judgment from years ago unconsciously surfaced: "Because of their physical limitations, a female swordsman can never become the world's number one."
"Could it be... that I really can't surpass it?" Her fingertips were slightly cold.
At the edge of the training ground, Zephyr and Garp stood on a high platform, their expressions grave, unusually silent.
"Kuina... she's lost," Zephyr's voice was hoarse and low, as if he had long since foreseen something.
Garp, contrary to his usual self, was not laughing or joking, but just sighed lightly and scratched his chin. "Her swordsmanship technique is indeed stronger than Zoro's, although I don't want to admit it..."
"It's just that her body, in the end, still can't keep up with her sword's intent..." In the eyes of the two old soldiers, there was a hint of complex helplessness and hidden worry.
Just then, a familiar spatial ripple sounded from behind them.
"You brats, you're back?" Zephyr turned his head, a corner of his lip lifting.
Garp also snorted, but a smile unconsciously appeared on his lips. "You two run off to the New World to cause trouble everywhere, and you still know how to come back?"
The ones who had just teleported to the training ground were Roy and Law. Roy took off his sunglasses, dressed in casual clothes, and smiled as he nodded in greeting to the two seniors. "Instructor Zephyr, Grandpa Garp." Law, on the other hand, bowed slightly, his gaze steady.
"Just arrived, and we've already run into an exciting sword duel?" Roy glanced at Kuina, who had already sheathed her sword in the center of the field, and the unwilling Zoro, a new meaning in his eyes. "Are you guys worried about Kuina?"
Garp pursed his lips and turned back to look at the field. "Hmph, I just think that little girl's swordsmanship shouldn't be limited by her stamina."
"A kid with such super talent and who works so hard... it would be a real shame if she gave up."
Law was also silent for a few seconds, looking at Kuina, who was panting with her hands on her knees in the center of the field, a stir in his eyes. "A swordsmanship genius, but trapped by the shackles of her physical body?" A certain emotion was stirring in his heart. A perfect swordsman's soul, but trapped in a mortal body. But they all knew that Kuina would never give up easily. That trembling hand was not a sign of weakness, but the will to push forward against her limits.
Marine Headquarters, Vice Admiral Roy's Office
The heavy doors were tightly closed, the curtains drawn, and the only light in the room came from the dim lamp on the desk, enveloping everything in a quiet yet oppressive atmosphere. Zephyr and Garp sat on the sofa, their expressions different, but both their gazes were on the—golden box—in front of Roy.
"You brat," Garp said, his arms crossed, his gaze wary, his tone as if he were facing a bomb that was about to be defused. "You didn't call us here mysteriously just for tea, did you? What did you bring back this time?"
"Don't tell me it's another Devil Fruit," Zephyr's tone was calm, but his brow was already slightly furrowed. They both knew that Roy was not a person who acted without reason, and an item that could make him show such a solemn expression was definitely not ordinary.
Roy stood behind his desk, his face calm, but a sharpness was hidden in his eyes. He looked at the two old veterans before him and suddenly said something shocking. "Instructor Zephyr, Grandpa Garp—have you ever considered eating a Devil Fruit?"
The air was silent for two seconds.
"Huh?!" Garp jumped up as if a fuse had been lit, even kicking over his chair. "Are you out of your mind, brat?! A naturally gifted martial arts master like me doesn't need the power of some fruit!!!"
Although Zephyr was not as agitated as Garp, a strange light also flashed in his eyes, and he said in a low voice, "I know about that 'Mythical Zoan' fruit of Luffy's... but don't forget, not everyone can control this kind of power."
"Did you do something dangerous in private to get this fruit?" Although his tone was serious, it was more like the scolding of an elder filled with concern.
Seeing the two old men's strong reaction, Roy actually chuckled lightly, his tone softening. "Don't worry, I didn't do anything illegal, and I didn't go fight the Celestial Dragons."
"This fruit was retrieved by a secret contact I set up in advance." As he spoke, he gently lifted the golden box and placed it on the desk. "But since I invited you here, I naturally wanted you to see for yourselves—whether this power is worthy of being entrusted."
With that, Roy slowly opened the lid.
"Clack—"
Under the dim yellow light, a dark red glow overflowed from the box. It was a Devil Fruit with purple spiral patterns on its skin. A faint, bat-wing-like shadow floated between the skin, and it seemed to be alive under the light, writhing slightly, exuding an oppressive presence.
"Zoan-type Bat-Bat Fruit, Mythical Model: Vampire." Roy's voice was calm but each word was like a thunderclap.
"A Mythical Zoan?!" Garp, who had just sat down, shot up again, his eyebrows almost knitting together. "You brat, you got another dangerous thing like this?!"
Zephyr's pupils also constricted suddenly, his gaze quickly becoming grave. "Vampire... are you sure? This is a fruit that was recorded in the 'Forbidden Ancient Texts'."
Roy nodded, his fingertip gently sliding over the surface of the fruit as he slowly explained, "The person who eats it will gain the ultrasonic perception and flight abilities of a bat, and can precisely control the battle environment with sound waves."
"At night, the user's various physical abilities will be greatly enhanced, and they can release an 'absolute dark domain,' making the enemy completely lose their sense of direction, rhythm, and judgment in the absence of light and sound."
"And the most powerful point is—" he paused, his fingertip stopping at the deepest, blood-red texture in the center of the fruit. "—it can restore its own state, accelerate the enemy's aging, and weaken their physical fitness by absorbing their blood..."
A brief silence. Garp frowned and slowly sat back on the sofa, his fingers unconsciously tapping his knee, as if he were rationally assessing the threat level of this fruit.
Zephyr looked down at the fruit for a long time, his voice low. "...This kind of ability is a tactical-level suppression weapon, especially for those with a weak will, it's almost a death sentence."
"But by the same token, if it's not used well, it's a disaster."
Roy gently closed the lid and smiled faintly. "This fruit will not fall into the hands of someone who 'can't use it well'."
Zephyr took a deep breath, his gaze heavy as he stared at the already-closed golden box. After a long while, he finally spoke. "Roy, who are you planning to give this fruit to?" His tone was calm, but the weight it carried was undeniable.
Garp, at the side, also raised an eyebrow, quietly waiting for Roy's answer.
Roy's gaze slowly swept between the two old veterans, then he smiled slightly, his expression composed. "This is precisely why I invited you to this office."
"I don't plan to make this decision alone."
Zephyr was silent for a moment, his gaze wavering slightly, as if he were weighing something in his heart. As time passed, his gaze became deeper and deeper, finally landing on the golden box. A Mythical Zoan, an old soldier who was long past his prime. If he could obtain that kind of power... maybe...
"If this fruit can really make up for the decline in my physical strength..." Zephyr said slowly, his voice as low as the tide. "Then I... might still be able to do something." His tone was calm but revealed a long-hidden fighting spirit.
Roy looked at him, not a trace of surprise in his eyes, as if he had already foreseen this. He said slowly, "Instructor Zephyr, the ability of this fruit is just what you need to solve your current 'bottleneck'."
Zephyr suddenly looked up, his gaze turning sharp. "What do you mean?"
Roy's gaze was frank. He gently tapped the lid of the box and said slowly, "The Mythical Zoan, Vampire Form, has a very special ability—'Blood Siphon'."
"By sucking the enemy's blood, the user can not only accelerate the recovery of their injuries but also, in a short period of time... return to their 'peak state of youth'."
The air slightly stagnated. Zephyr's brow moved slightly. Even with his will of steel, he showed a brief fluctuation at this moment. "...Return to my peak?" the old man murmured to himself, as if recalling those years of being invincible on the battlefield, those arms that were once called "Black Arm," which had once supported the justice of an entire era.
Hearing this, Garp was also taken aback for a moment. For once, he did not joke around but just turned to look at his old friend, his eyes holding a hint of respect and hesitation that he usually never showed. "Zephyr..."
Zephyr was silent for a long time. It was a long and heavy silence, as if he were having a silent farewell with his own life, with his past beliefs. Finally, he slowly stood up and slowly shook his head. His voice was hoarse but unusually firm. "No."
"I don't need this fruit."
He turned around, pulled open the curtains, and looked at the figure that was repeatedly swinging a sword on the training ground in the distance. His eyes held a warmth that was completely different from his usual devil instructor image. "There is someone—"
"who needs this power more than I do."
"She is still young, and she still has a future. And I... have already passed the years when I should have been burning the brightest." His tone was gentle, like the wind blowing over a setting sun, but it made the atmosphere in the room suddenly heavy.
Roy did not try to persuade him but just quietly looked at his mentor, a corner of his lip slowly lifting. "As expected, Instructor... is still the instructor."
Garp then came to his senses and laughed, slapping Zephyr on the shoulder, his eyes filled with emotion. "Hahaha, you old geezer, you're much clearer-headed than I am." As he spoke, he blinked and looked at the two of them. "But, who is this 'person' you're talking about?"
Roy didn't answer immediately but turned and walked to the window, looking at the distant training ground. The girl was holding her sword with one hand, her arm still trembling slightly, but she still slashed out again and again, unwilling to retreat half a step. He said softly, his voice not loud but firm. "A swordsman who is lost because of her 'lack of stamina'."
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