Boom!
When the flames dispersed, only a massive crater remained—roughly spherical, its edges melted and uneven, with faint traces of where limbs had once been. The hole was so deep, its bottom couldn't be seen.
"Not bad."
Nojiko looked down at the battered and blood-covered Urouge with a faint trace of approval. She took out a few bottles of Health Potion and tossed them over.
Urouge caught them without a word and downed them in a single gulp. As the strange power coursed through his body, mending torn flesh and fractured bones, his voice rasped out hoarsely: "It was you who saved me, Miss Nojiko. I can't take all the credit."
"No," she said softly, smiling faintly. "I meant that I saw your perseverance."
If she had simply wanted to deal with Satori, there were far easier ways. There was no need for such a brutal contest.
In the end, she had only done this because she could sense that Ren truly had an interest in recruiting this man—and so she'd crafted a trial accordingly.
If Urouge had given up, broken under pain, doubted her, or failed to grasp the one opportunity given to him… then regardless of whether he survived or not, Nojiko would never have considered him a worthy companion.
She knew—Ren thought the same way. In fact, this whole "test" was her attempt at imitating his style.
Once Urouge had barely recovered enough to stand, Nojiko turned to the fallen Shandians littering the ground, her expression thoughtful.
Regardless of anything else—three of the four Priests of Upper Yard had already fallen.Only one remained. And that last one had just met the man who would end him.
Upper Yard was not only forest; though most of it was covered in dense jungle, if one ventured deep enough, ancient ruins began to appear.
"Shandora, huh?"
After spending some time playing Tarzan among the trees, Ren and Zoro finally stepped out of that "joyful" forest. Crossing a stretch of island cloud, they arrived before a massive ruin.
"Should be right. Our destination matches this place."
Ren raised his hand.A Shikigami crawled up from the ground, returning to his side.
The Shikigami Technique—With the Angel of Glory unable to be deployed here, its convenience was unmatched. It possessed minimal presence, could phase through solid matter, and carried basic intelligence and instinct—making it ideal for reconnaissance.
Thanks to these ghostly servants, Ren's group had gathered invaluable intelligence.
Now they knew: one of the Four Priests, Ohm, was inside these ruins.
Behind the structure, an enormous beanstalk-like vine reached toward the heavens—the path upward to God's Shrine, where Enel resided.
Of course, Ren could already guess that Enel had noticed the situation but chose not to act—merely watching with amusement.
From what he knew of Enel, Ren could even infer the god's thought process:
If a Priest lost, so be it. If they died, it was meaningless anyway. Worthless things deserved no concern. Defeated servants could simply be replaced—chosen from among those who had bested them. And if the chosen refused? Then kill them, and choose again.
So, most likely—Enel was enjoying the show.
"One of the Four Priests, huh?"
Unlike Ren, who was lost in thought, Zoro's eyes gleamed with battlelust.
"Heh. This is getting exciting. Haven't had a worthy fight since we reached Sky Island."
"Then he won't disappoint you," Ren said with a small shrug."As a final opponent on Skypiea, he's probably decent enough."
In Ren's memory, Ohm was indeed the strongest among the four Priests.In the original timeline, Zoro had fought him for quite a while before winning—wounded, exhausted, and far from an easy victory.
"Then leave him to me," Zoro said, unsheathing Yubashiri and walking toward the ruins. "If I take him down, I want in on the fight against that guy."
"You really are stubborn, huh? Fine. "Ren smiled helplessly and nodded. "If you can handle Ohm, I won't waste good manpower."
He had no intention of intervening anyway. His trump cards were reserved for Enel.Honestly, someone like Ohm couldn't threaten Zoro anymore—not at this point.
In this short time, Zoro's growth had been astonishing—surpassing even his counterpart from the original timeline.
'Enel… when will you show yourself?'
Hands in pockets, Ren looked up toward the towering vine.
At that moment, a new voice echoed behind him.
"You seem eager to meet me."
A sphere of cloud hovered above the sea of white vapor, and seated cross-legged upon it was Enel, wearing loose trousers, his body gleaming faintly with static light.
He eyed the man who turned toward him with mild curiosity.
"I thought you'd be another arrogant fool. But you're not as ignorant as I expected. You're cautious—prepared, even. Tell me, Blue Sea man—what is your purpose?"
The instant Enel appeared, Zoro—already walking into the ruins—paused for a heartbeat, then resumed his stride.
He didn't know who his captain had encountered, but he had his own battle to finish. And this one, he suspected, wouldn't last long.
Inside the ruins, Zoro followed the ancient stone road until he reached a towering pyramid-like structure built from massive bricks—Shandora's distinct architectural style.
There he stopped. Before him sat a bald man cross-legged on a high ledge, and beside him lay a massive white dog.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the man said. "This is the Trial of Iron, where the survival rate is zero. I am the Priest who oversees this trial—and servant of Almighty God Enel."
Rising to his feet, Ohm drew his sword from his hip. "The god has already spoken to me—about you invaders who defeated three Priests. He said it was a good thing. Anyone who couldn't endure such meager challenges wasn't worthy to serve him.I agree completely. Those three idiots were trash of that level.
"But what angers me is that God believes I might also lose to you Blue Sea people. Do you know how that feels?"
"Don't care."
Zoro coldly rejected the offer for conversation, reversing his grip on Yubashiri and pointing it forward. "I'm in a hurry. I'll cut you down and be on my way."
"Arrogant fool!" Ohm roared. "You may have defeated the others, but don't mistake me for one of those weaklings!"
He let out a sharp whistle. The huge white dog stirred awake.
It was enormous—three men tall and nearly ten meters long. When it crouched, it looked like a small fortress; when it stood on all fours, it was a living war machine.
"Holy! Show him the results of my training!"
At his command, the beast rose upright like a man, its forepaws clenched into fists as it shadow-boxed the air with astonishing discipline.
Ohm stood upon its head, gripping his Iron Cloud Sword. "Amazing, isn't it? Not mere showmanship—Holy knows martial arts! Only a Sky Island beast-tamer like me could train such a creature. And this sword of Iron Cloud—"
He never finished the sentence.
"So, you're ready then?" Zoro interrupted again.
"Rude bastard! Holy—attack!"
The white war-beast lunged like a tank, shaking the ruins. Ohm bent his knees slightly, ready to strike the moment his foe exposed an opening.
Yet Zoro simply tightened his grip on Yubashiri. Black iron light rippled from his hands, wrapping the blade. His hawk-like eyes locked onto the charging pair—then closed.
"What's he doing? Giving up?" Ohm's eyes narrowed in disbelief.
Holy barked and thundered forward, the air shaking.
"...The wind is moving?" Zoro murmured.
Yes—the wind was moving.
In the darkness behind his closed eyelids, he stood upon a mirror-like black surface, ripples spreading from his feet.
Swordsmanship had three realms. The first was Sword Aura—manifesting killing intent and sharp will.
The second was the realm of Cutting Steel—understanding the breath of steel, hearing its song, sensing and severing the world's toughness through perception.
Then came the third—The Great Swordsman. According to the legends, a Great Swordsman could release slashes that could fly.
At first, Zoro had thought "flying slashes" meant extending the blade's aura indefinitely—brute force creating a longer arc.
But after meeting Mihawk in the East Blue, he'd realized how wrong he was.
Terribly wrong.
When Mihawk struck him that second time, Zoro had noticed—there was no exaggerated movement, no windup of strength. It wasn't power that launched the slash—it was essence.
The Great Swordsman's realm wasn't something achieved through strength alone—it was a transformation of the soul.
Since that realization, Zoro had trained like a madman—fighting endlessly within the Imaginary Chamber, crossing blades with Crocodile until the man could hardly stand the sight of him.
Crocodile had long since grown sick of the sparring—but Zoro never stopped. Because weakness was intolerable.
He still remembered Alubarna—watching his captain face Crocodile while he himself could only stand aside, useless. He had managed only one move—Hawk Wave—at the end, and even that hadn't changed the outcome.
Even without him, Luffy would have won. For the crew, that was fine.But for Zoro, it was unacceptable.
That helplessness, that powerlessness—he would never feel it again. He would become strong enough to cut down anything that stood before him.
Maybe that resolve had even earned Crocodile's reluctant respect, as the man eventually shared tales of Great Swordsmen he'd once seen.
Piece by piece, the truth had dawned on Zoro. Swordsmanship was an art of killing—of struggle and blood—but its heart was the Way.
Unlike Ren's Thunder Breathing, which cycled inward, Zoro's Way of the Sword flowed outward. Training of strength, physique, speed—all of it was the outer circulation.
To go beyond that was to merge with the sword itself—To make the sword your own limb.
That gave birth to Sword Aura. Then came understanding the sword's life, its voice, its pulse—To breathe with all things, giving birth to the realm of Cutting Steel.
And once a swordsman could perceive life even in what others called dead—Steel, rock, the earth… and most familiar of all, the wind—Then he could step into the realm of the Great Swordsman.
Yes.
The key to that realm had been in his hands all along.
But—
White steam rose from his lips as he lifted Yubashiri. The wind gathered around him, extending the blade into an invisible edge.
Its name—Flying Slash.
'Still not enough… I'm still far from catching up to the captain. But once, I was stronger than him. If I slack off, he'll surpass me completely. As the crew's only swordsman, I can't let that happen.'
Zoro's eyes snapped open, sharp as a hawk's, reflecting the charging man and beast.
He clenched the hilt. Armament Haki surged from his palms into the blade, saturating it until it overflowed. Like ink spilling into a pool, the surrounding wind turned jet-black—then shifted to pure green.
Something subtle had happened in that instant—but the result was clear. This strike carried everything he had.
Armament Coating—Flying Slash!
Whoosh!
A flash of emerald light split the air. A wave of green sword energy roared forward, tearing the ground apart.
The sight alone burned Ohm's eyes, stabbing pain through them—phantom agony born of instinct. He knew what was coming. But he couldn't move.
It was too fast. By the time his Mantra foresight reacted, it was already over.
One slash—two bodies.
The emerald wave carved through earth and ruin alike, ripping everything apart with effortless grace. The island cloud quaked; the ancient ruins split perfectly in half like paper.
In less than two seconds, the slash had traveled hundreds of meters, slicing flesh, cloud, and stone. Then, a full heartbeat later—A thunderous explosion rocked the ruins, hurling a cloud of dust hundreds of meters high.
"Farewell."
Zoro flicked the blood from Yubashiri, then drew Wado Ichimonji and Sandai Kitetsu, sheathing them all as he turned back the way he came.
"Don't know if you counted me in your plan," he muttered, "but this is my limit."
(End of Chapter)