Argentus spun his spear and slammed the butt into the ground. He looked at the tip of his weapon. There wasn't a scratch on it.
"I didn't cut steel," Argentus corrected, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "I just felt where it wanted to break."
Koushiro stood up from the porch, his expression unreadable, though a hint of pride shone in his eyes.
"You have learned all I can teach you, Argentus-kun," the master said softly. "The rest... you must learn from the sea."
The next morning.
Argentus stood on the dock, the sun just beginning to burn off the mist. Sylvia bobbed gently in the water, fully stocked. He was ready.
"Leaving without a goodbye? Rude."
Argentus didn't turn around. He smirked, continuing to coil the rope. "I figured you'd be too busy mourning your swords, Zoro."
Roronoa Zoro walked down the dock, the Wado Ichimonji at his hip.
"Those were cheap worn-out blades anyway," Zoro scoffed, though there was a newfound respect in his tone. "Next time, I'll have swords that won't break. And I'll be the one cutting you. I will defeat you before I become world's greatest swordsman."
"We'll see," Argentus said, hopping onto the deck of Sylvia and raising the sail. "Don't die before then, moss-head."
"Get lost, spear-freak!"
As the wind caught the canvas and Sylvia pulled away, Zoro shouted one last question.
"Hey, Argentus! What's your goal? You never said!"
Argentus looked back, his coat flapping in the wind.
"Everything!" Argentus shouted back, his voice carrying over the waves. "I'm going to take everything!"
_____________________________________________________
The open sea was a deceptive canvas. It looked peaceful, a vast expanse of blue stretching to the horizon, but for a lone sloop like Sylvia, it was filled with dangers.
Two days out from Shimotsuki Village, a shadow fell over Sylvia. A dual-masted pirate ship, flying a flag with a skull crushing a hourglass, pulled alongside. It was a pirate crew with 7 million bounty known for preying on merchant vessels near the Grand Line entrance.
"Oi! Little boat!" the captain, a man with a jagged hook for a hand, shouted from the high deck. "Prepare to be boarded! Lower your sails and hand over your gold, and maybe we'll only break your legs!"
Argentus didn't even look up from his map. He was sitting cross-legged on the cabin roof, adjusting his course.
"You're blocking my sun," Argentus said, his voice carrying clearly over the water despite the distance. "Move."
The pirate crew erupted in laughter.
"Did you hear him? He thinks he's tough!" The captain grinned, raising his hook. "Fire the port cannons! Turn that toothpick into splinters!"
BOOM. BOOM.
Two puffs of smoke erupted from the galleon. Two iron cannonballs whistled through the air, arcing straight for Sylvia.
Argentus sighed, folding his map carefully.
To the old Argentus, this would have been a panic moment. He would have had to steer the boat wildly or dive into the water.
But to the Argentus who had trained under a Navy hero and a top-class swordsman ... this was slow.
He stood up and simply grabbed the shaft of spear.
He flicked his wrist.
The spear moved so fast it was invisible to the naked eye.
CLANG. CLANG.
The two cannonballs were deflected—not stopped, but redirected. They slammed into the ocean on either side of Sylvia, sending plumes of water high into the air.
The laughter on the pirate ship died instantly.
"He... he batted them away?" a crewmate stammered.
"Now," Argentus said, his eyes turning cold. "You tried to touch Sylvia."
He bent his knees and launched himself into the air. He soared across the gap between the vessels, landing silently on the railing of the pirate galleon.
"Kill him!" the captain screamed. "Swords! Pistols! Get him!"
Thirty pirates charged.
Argentus stepped forward. He swung the spear like a staff, but he applied the principle Koushiro had taught him.
Snap. Snap. Shatter.
Cutlasses broke upon contact with his iron spear. Pistols were sliced in half before they could fire. Men were tossed into the sea with casual swipes of the spear's butt.
Argentus walked through the chaos until he reached the main mast. He placed the tip of his spear against the thick wood.
"Your journey ends here," Argentus muttered.
He thrust.
The spear passed through the massive mast as if it were made of paper.
CRACK.
The structural integrity failed. The mast groaned, then toppled backward, crashing through the deck and smashing into the hull below. The ship groaned in agony as water began to rush in.
Argentus leaped back to Sylvia just as the pirate ship began to list heavily to one side.
"Have a nice swim," Argentus called out, returning to his spot on the cabin roof.
He watched dispassionately as the ship went down, the pirates scrambling for debris. He didn't kill them all—the sea is far crueler than death.
With the nuisance dealt with, Argentus returns to his routine.
Hours later, the adrenaline had faded, replaced by hunger. He decided to get in a workout while securing dinner.
He stripped off his coat and began a set of one-armed handstand pushups on the swaying deck, counting quietly to himself. After hitting five hundred, he grabbed his fishing rod.
He cast the line deep.
It didn't take long. A tug. Then a yank. Then a massive weight that threatened to pull him overboard.
Argentus grinned, bracing his feet against the gunwale. "Come on then!"
He was in stale male with it 10 minutes and pulled when it gave up the struggle. The water erupted.
Rising from the depths was a Sea King—a serpent-like beast at least ten meters long, with emerald scales and a maw full of needle-teeth. It roared, casting a shadow over the tiny sloop.
Argentus looked at the monster.
"Perfect," he said, licking his lips.
The Sea King lunged. Argentus met it mid-air, his spear flashing in the sunlight.
Later that evening.
The smell of grilled meat was intoxicating. Argentus sat on the deck under the starlight, a massive steak of Sea King meat skewered on a stick. It was tough, flavorful, and filled with the energy of the deep ocean.
He took a sip of the sake he had brought from Shimotsuki Village, feeling the warmth spread through his chest.
"Not bad," he murmured, looking at the horizon.
Soon, the adrenaline of the fight and the satisfaction of the meal faded, leaving behind a silence that was louder than the crashing waves. He lay back on the wooden deck, crossing his arms behind his head.
The sky was a vast, velvet dome pierced by a billion stars. It was beautiful. It was infinite. And it was incredibly lonely.
He was just a boy, floating on a piece of wood in the middle of nowhere.
His eyes traced a constellation that looked faintly like a woman's face.
"Mom..." he whispered, the word lost to the wind.
His eyelids grew heavy. The gentle rocking of the boat became a cradle. He closed his eyes, and the darkness took him.
The first light of dawn was bleeding across the horizon, painting the sea in shades of violet and gold. The world was quiet. Just the rhythmic lap of waves against the hull and the infinite stretch of the ocean in every direction.
"HAAH!"
Argentus shot up like a spring had been released in his spine.
His chest heaved, sucking in greedy gulps of salty air. His skin was cold and clammy with sweat, his shirt sticking to his back. His hand was gripping the hilt of his spear so hard his knuckles were white, ready to fight.
He stared at his trembling hand, slowly forcing his fingers to unclench.
"A dream...?" he rasped, his voice hoarse.
He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his heart rate slowly returning to normal.
He sat there for a long time, watching the sun rise, reminding himself of where he was.
"Right," Argentus muttered, standing up and shaking the nightmare off his shoulders. His face hardened again, the vulnerability of the night locked away. "No looking back."
He picked up his spear to inspect it, a habit he had formed since leaving the dojo.
In the morning light, the flaws were visible. The iron shaft had a slight bend from where he had deflected the cannonballs. The tip, though still sharp, had microscopic chips from cutting through the Sea King's dense scales.
"You're tired, aren't you?" he whispered to the weapon.
It was a good spear. It had served him well but soon it won't be able to keep up with him.
He sat cross-legged on the deck, pulling out a whetstone. He began to sharpen the blade, the rhythmic shhh-shhh sound filling the silence.
"Hold on a little longer," he told the weapon, running his thumb over the chipped iron tip.
After some time as he looked up from his maintenance, his eyes narrowing against the glare of the sun. On the horizon, a shape had broken the endless monotony of the blue.
It was an island, but it looked less like a natural formation and more like a fortress built by the sea itself.
As Sylvia drew closer, the water around the island began to churn violently. The calm waves of the open ocean gave way to a chaotic ring of white water. Whirlpools spun with the force of grinding gears, and erratic riptides clashed against each other, creating walls of spray that hissed into the air.
Argentus gripped the tiller, testing the water's resistance. The wood groaned.
"No good," he muttered. "If I take her in closer, she'll be torn apart."
He looked at the island again. It was dominated by a bizarre geological feature: a massive, cylindrical landmass rising vertically from the center of the jungle. It looked like a giant stone piston punched out of the earth, its surface riddled with dark, gaping holes.
Curiosity warred with caution, and curiosity won.
He steered Sylvia to a safe distance, well outside the chaotic perimeter, and dropped the heavy iron anchor. It hit the seabed with a dull thud, securing the sloop.
Argentus stripped off his coat and boots, securing his spear tightly to his back with oilcloth bindings. He stood on the gunwale, took a deep breath, and dove.
SPLASH.
The water was cold and violent. Immediately, the current tried to grab him, to spin him into the nearest vortex.
He sensed the flow of the water. He kicked with explosive power, shooting through the gaps in the currents, darting between the whirlpools like a torpedo.
It was a grueling swim, a physical battle against nature, but minutes later, his hand dug into wet sand.
He hauled himself out of the surf, water streaming from his body, and stood up on the beach.
It was eerily quiet here, protected from the roar of the ocean by the palm trees that lined the shore. He looked up. From this vantage point, the central cylinder was imposing. The holes he had seen from the sea were massive caves, dark tunnels leading deep into the rock.
And as the wind picked up, a low, haunting sound drifted from the stone—a mournful whistle caused by the air rushing through the tunnels.
Argentus unstrapped his spear, shaking the water off the oilcloth.
"Well," he said, looking at the dark caves above the tree line. "I wonder what's hiding in there."
(END OF CHAPTER)
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