"How… how is this possible?!"
Nobunaga wasn't the only one in shock; the Troupe members watching from the deck were just as stunned.
"How did he do that?" Feitan's expression was uncharacteristically rattled.
"Did anyone catch the exact moment he moved?"
Beside him, Phinks shook his head, his face grim.
Was Nobunaga the strongest member of the Troupe? Clearly not. In terms of pure destructive power, Uvogin—at the "physical peak"—and members like Feitan and Phinks with their terrifying Nen abilities were all above him. But in terms of one-on-one draw speed, no one in the Troupe could touch him.
Yet here was his full-power strike, delivered with terrifying velocity, caught effortlessly.
"Is this the level of the peak of the 'Dark Continent'?"
A heavy silence fell over the Troupe.
Nobunaga, however, felt the weight of the gap much more directly. His famous blade, Shigure, was held firmly in place by that laughably small knife. It wouldn't budge an inch.
I… I can't move!
My masterpiece, my Iai strike… stopped by a literal fingernail clipper?!
No… this can't be happening!
Nobunaga snapped his head up, only to see Mihawk looking as relaxed as a man having a casual stroll.
"You can sense the 'breath' of objects," Mihawk noted, giving the strike a calm nod of approval. "The realm of 'Cutting Steel.' You've already reached the level of a true swordsman."
His effortless demeanor only stoked the fires of Nobunaga's rage. But even in his fury, he remembered Chrollo's strict instructions. He forced out those godawful, embarrassing lines:
"The… the world can't be this far away!"
"Don't look down on me—!"
He lunged forward again, his blade-work turning into a silver waterfall!
"Iai: Parrying Flow!"
"Iai: Hilt Strike!"
"Iai: Diagonal Slash!"
"Iai: Two-Handed Thrust!"
Nobunaga unleashed technique after technique. The air around them screamed as it was displaced by the razor-sharp strikes. The wreckage of the galleon beneath them was carved into pieces, the cuts as smooth as mirrors.
Yet, cold sweat began to pour down Nobunaga's face. His opponent, using nothing but that tiny knife, captured the trajectory of every single swing. Mihawk struck the weak points of each slash with surgical precision, shutting down every attack before it could land.
Impossible…
Impossible…
"IMPOSSIBLE!!" Nobunaga stared at his blade, his shock finally curdling into desperation. "Iai: Four-Direction Cut—!"
With a burst of supernatural speed, four blurred images of Shigure appeared in front of him. He slashed toward Mihawk from the top, bottom, left, and right simultaneously, cutting off every possible path of retreat.
"Try dodging this—!"
Schwing—!
Blood sprayed into the air. But the blood didn't belong to Mihawk. It belonged to Nobunaga.
Nobunaga stared down in a daze at his own chest. The tiny knife was buried in his flesh. Mihawk, holding the blade, hadn't changed his expression in the slightest.
"Pffft—urk…" Blood trickled from the corner of Nobunaga's mouth.
Back on the ship, the Troupe members looked ready to tear the world apart. Only Chrollo remained composed, watching with a solemn intensity.
It all depends on this next moment… Nobunaga.
"How… did you do it?" Nobunaga's eyes were wide with disbelief.
"By simply piercing your heart a fraction of a second before your strikes landed. It rendered your attack void," Mihawk explained calmly. "Why didn't you step back?"
Here it comes again…
"I… I just feel like if I took even a single step back here, all the important oaths and promises I've made until now… they'd all vanish," Nobunaga said, his voice thick with embarrassment.
"Correct. That is what we call defeat."
"Heh… then I definitely can't step back!" God, this is so cringey…
"What a formidable spirit." Mihawk looked at Nobunaga, the respect in his eyes growing visible. "Would you rather die than face defeat?"
Mihawk withdrew the tiny knife and sheathed it. Then, he reached back and drew the Supreme Grade blade—the Black Blade, Yoru. He leveled it at Nobunaga.
"Young man, you have earned my respect. State your name."
Nobunaga gripped his blade and held it horizontally in front of him. "Nobunaga… Hazama…"
Mihawk's expression turned formal. "I shall remember it. It has been a long time since I encountered a warrior of your caliber."
"Now, as a mark of respect between swordsmen, I shall use the world's strongest Black Blade to send you to the depths."
Nobunaga steeled himself, gripping his hilt with both hands. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Iai: Draw-Strike—Horizontal Line!"
"Normal attack."
CLANG—!
The two figures crossed in a flash. A second later, the famous blade Shigure shattered into a dozen pieces. A massive, jagged wound opened across Nobunaga's abdomen.
I guess… I lost.
There was no frustration in Nobunaga's expression—only the peak of absolute embarrassment. He turned around to face Mihawk, spread his arms wide, and avoided eye contact as he muttered the final line:
"A… a scar on the back is a swordsman's shame—"
Mihawk's admiration reached its peak. "Magnificent!"
SHINK—!
The Black Blade fell once more.
"NOBUNAGA—!"
The Troupe members on the ship screamed at the top of their lungs. Chrollo gave Bonney a subtle shove and hissed under his breath, "You too. Scream. Now. Loud! Or no dinner!"
Bonney looked at her chicken leg in terror and surrendered to the threat. "Nobu-naaaga!" she wailed half-heartedly.
The final strike carved a massive gash across Nobunaga's chest, sending him falling into the sea. Without waiting for orders, Feitan and Phinks dove in, pulled him out, and laid him flat on a piece of floating debris. Their gazes were heavier than ever before. Is this the power of the 'Dark Continent'?
Chrollo saw his opening. His eyes lit up. Finally, my turn.
"Cough, cough…" He cleared his throat and instantly shifted into a mask of righteous fury. "NOBU-NAAAGA!"
With a blur of speed, he flickered across the water, landing in front of Mihawk.
Mihawk looked at Chrollo calmly. "Are you the companion of that young swordsman?"
"Thank you for watching until the end." He glanced toward the distant, unconscious Nobunaga. "Rest easy. That man is still alive."
Mihawk crossed his arms, looking at Nobunaga with a look of high expectation.
"It is too soon for you to die!" he called out.
"My name is Dracule Mihawk!"
"Find yourself. Learn the world. Become strong!"
"No matter how many years pass, I will be waiting for you at the top… Surpass this blade! Surpass me!"
"Nobunaga Hazama!"
Under Mihawk's respectful gaze and Chrollo's subtle "keep going" gesture, Nobunaga—lying flat on the wood—covered his face with his hand and raised his broken hilt toward the sky. His embarrassment had surpassed the stratosphere. He yelled:
"Ch-Chrollo… can you hear me?!"
"I made you worry, didn't I? If I don't become the world's greatest swordsman, it'll be a real pain for you, won't it?!"
"I… I won't lose again!"
"Until I defeat him and become a master, I will never lose again!"
"DO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT—"
"KING OF PIRATES!"
Chrollo caught the faint, knowing smirk on the corner of Mihawk's mouth and felt a surge of triumph. It worked!
Meanwhile, Nobunaga, still covering his face, had only one thought:
This is so embarrassing… someone just kill me now.
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