"It's strange," Mihawk said evenly. "Your companion is already incapacitated, and the immortal body you relied on is gone."
His sharp gaze flickered. "Since that's the case, why do you still have the courage to fight? Do you intend to end your life here?"
The battle just now had already made everything clear—The gap between them was immeasurable. With only a small knife, Mihawk had seen through every move of the green-haired swordsman. The only reason Zoro was still standing was because of that man's Devil Fruit ability.
Judging from Zoro's reaction, he probably hadn't realized that.
Even so—He should have understood that continuing this fight meant only one thing: death.
"Maybe so," Zoro said quietly. "It might indeed end here."
He tightened his grip on his twin blades, his voice resolute. "But I don't know why… It feels like if I take even one step back here, all the vows I've made, all the beliefs I've held dear—they'll all be destroyed. And no matter how much time passes, I'll never be able to return to this moment."
"I see…" Mihawk murmured. "It seems I truly underestimated you. I thought you were merely a second-rate swordsman borrowing your comrade's strength. But it seems you do have conviction and pride of your own."
He straightened slightly, the scorn gone from his eyes. "Good. Very good. Swordsmen like you are rare these days."
Mihawk's expression turned solemn. "You're right about one thing—the end you foresee is indeed what awaits you. The victor takes all; the loser loses everything."
"In that case," Zoro replied, inhaling deeply, "there's even less reason to back down. If I abandon my conviction now, how is that any different from dying?"
Without hesitation, he activated his breathing technique.
The essence of the Thunder Breathing Technique lay in inner circulation—it squeezed out every ounce of the user's physical strength.In moments of desperation, it could even burn the body for power.
Zoro, being a born genius with the sword, had mastered every nuance of the technique that Ren had imparted to him. He had fully digested its core and fused it into his Three-Sword Style.
The white steam that rose from his body was the best proof of that.
Even the gaping wound across his right chest couldn't weaken him in the slightest.
Sensing the change in his aura, Mihawk slightly lowered the black blade in his hand, his gaze heavy. "Even if it means death?"
"To me, 'the strongest' is like a flame burning in the dark night," Zoro said, his voice like thunder. "And I'm the moth drawn to it. If I can't bear the cost of chasing that flame, then turning to ash before it is a fitting end!It's only death, after all!"
"Hah… Excellent," Mihawk said, his tone low but sincere. "An excellent answer. Boy—state your name!"
"Roronoa Zoro!"
"I will remember it."
With that, Mihawk sheathed his small knife and drew the black blade—Yoru. "It has been a long time since I've met a true warrior. As a swordsman, I will grant you a proper duel… and end your life by the blade.Prepare to be buried at sea!"
"If that's the case," Zoro said with a firm grin, "I'm grateful."
He shifted his stance, unwavering.
His three blades formed a petal-shaped arc—an unorthodox form.But it wasn't desperation—it was the embodiment of his final technique.To give his all, he pushed himself beyond his limits.
Focus everything… reach the summit!
The teachings of Thunder Breathing echoed in his mind as his muscles swelled with power.
Three-Sword Style: Asura Form! Built upon Ichi Gorilla and Ni Gorilla, infused with the essence of Thunder Breathing, it was a body-enhancement technique that strengthened not only his arms but every muscle and vein in his body.
It was a move he had never used before—created here, in the face of overwhelming pressure.
Heart and spirit merged, mind and intent became one; everything fused into that thunderous rhythm of his breathing.
He had one strike—and only one.
Would he win?He didn't know.He couldn't even imagine what victory would look like.
Would he lose?He didn't know that either—because he refused to imagine defeat.
Should he retreat?
No.Absolutely not.He would never surrender—not even to death itself.
What incredible willpower, Mihawk thought. He knows this is death, and still he advances. Even the greatest swordsmen of the sea tremble before death… yet this one accepts it willingly.It has been ten years since I've met a swordsman like this. Could he truly be the one?
Mihawk gripped Yoru, twisting his wrist so that the cold edge gleamed toward his opponent. "Come, then! Show me your full strength!"
"Three-Sword Style Secret Technique: Three Thousand Worlds!"
Zoro twisted his wrists, the twin blades spinning as a violent wind surged around him. The air roared; dust scattered.
Then—he lunged forward!
"Die here!"
Mihawk stepped forward as well, meeting him head-on without flinching.
Like a hawk, his eyes caught the opening—and his black blade fell in a flash of killing light.
CLANG!
A cry of steel echoed. The two passed each other.
Ryuen and Raichi shattered into a dozen fragments, the broken blades clattering to the ground.
So I lost, after all…There's no shame in being outmatched.
Zoro released his grip. The hilts dropped to the floor. A deep diagonal slash ran across his chest, flesh torn open, bone visible beneath.
Had his swords not been of such high quality to block part of the strike,his organs would have been cleaved in two.
What now, boy? Mihawk wondered, turning slowly, blood dripping from Yoru's edge onto the deck. This is your true life-and-death moment.
Zoro still had one breath left—only one.
Would he truly choose death rather than retreat?
Clack.
The sound of a blade sliding into its sheath. Zoro sheathed Wado Ichimonji and tossed it toward Ren's direction.
He didn't speak.
Facing Mihawk, he simply spread his arms, calm and still.
"What's this supposed to mean?" Mihawk asked, eyes narrowing.
"The wound on the back," Zoro said, smiling faintly, "is a swordsman's shame."
He opened his eyes wide, as if to burn this final moment into his memory.
"…Remarkable."
Mihawk vanished. A line of cold light filled Zoro's vision.
Slash!
The blade cut through flesh. The sheer force sent Zoro flying, crashing into the shattered deck, his fate uncertain.
"…Remarkable," Mihawk said again softly.
He sheathed his blade and stood tall, his eyes full of respect.
This truly was a fine seedling.
Then his hawk-like eyes shifted toward a quiet figure nearby.
Ren stood there silently, holding Wado Ichimonji in one hand and the Gáe Bolg in the other.
"A comrade, I presume?" Mihawk asked.
Ren nodded slightly. "The first battle—that was my doing."
"I see. For a companion like that, he'd be wasted dying here."
"Interfering in a duel," Mihawk said as he turned toward his small black boat, "normally, I would strike you down for it. But for his sake, I'll let it go—with a message."
"What message?" Ren asked.
"Tell Roronoa Zoro this—My name is Dracule Mihawk, the World's Greatest Swordsman.When he survives, let him go and witness the vastness of this world. Let him fight, struggle, and temper himself.Let him surpass today's blade, and this bitter defeat.When that time comes… I will be waiting for him at the world's end—upon the throne of the strongest."
With that, Mihawk boarded his small black craft and disappeared beyond the horizon.
As the man's presence faded, every pirate nearby finally exhaled in relief.
Gone—thank the seas he was gone.After seeing those two strikes, who wouldn't be terrified?
"Whew…"Even Ren couldn't help but exhale.Good. He left.
As expected, Zoro and Mihawk truly resonated as swordsmen.He had survived the brink of death and earned the hawk-eyed man's acknowledgment—his path to survival secured.
After all—the world's greatest swordsman had sat on that throne for too long.When one reaches such heights, what they crave most… is a worthy challenger.
Mihawk was too strong, so he nurtured the few who had potential.Just to give the future some color.
Ren didn't understand such lofty sentiments. If it were him, he'd simply grind his enemy to dust. But since this benefited his side, he wouldn't complain.
Still…
Time to clean up the field before these pirates get any ideas.
He looked up. The sky was still dark and heavy.Mihawk's two strikes had even disrupted the weather—for a moment, the storm had ceased.
But the thunderclouds still lingered.
Raising his hand, Ren hurled the Gáe Bolg toward the nearest pirate ship.
Fate Lock: Pirate—Lightning Summon!
A thunderbolt speared down, rousing the stunned pirates who had been frozen since Mihawk's duel. As the lightning turned their comrades into smoking corpses, realization dawned—
The big boss had left,but the Thunder God was still here!
He might not compare to Mihawk,but against them—he was overkill.
Before Mihawk came, the Thunder God had smitten them. After Mihawk left, the Thunder God was still smiting them.
If they didn't run now, Mihawk's visit would've been pointless!
"Run for your lives!"
The surviving pirate ships scattered like frightened birds, and the Baratie's crisis was finally over.
Only Pearl's crew couldn't retreat—they had volunteered for this battle to earn merit, and many of the Baratie's fighting chefs had already fallen to them.
What the hell just happened? Pearl cursed inwardly. Those two flashes—what kind of monsters were they?!
Fortunately, his defense was exceptional, and his loyal subordinates clustered around him, shielding him while they pushed back the restaurant's remaining cooks.
Even Sanji's powerful kicks couldn't break through those layered shields.
(End of Chapter)