After the "lords"… no, the Marines entered the city, they went straight to Charles at the forge, which he hadn't expected.
Smoke poured from Smoker's mouth as he puffed two cigars at once, without the slightest delay in his speech.
"So you're the one who scared Crocodile so badly he ditched his own casino and ran with his tail between his legs. You don't look like someone with that kind of boldness."
Charles didn't look at Smoker. He just swung his hammer, striking the blade blank in his hands. The clear ring and leaping sparks were like music.
Behind Smoker, Tashigi—who looked exactly like Zoro's childhood friend—had stars in her eyes.
As a sword fanatic, she could see how exquisite Charles's craft was. Watching a masterpiece being born brought a flush to her cheeks.
But Charles said coolly, "So the Marines are here to vent for your own hound?"
He didn't rise to Smoker's provocation, but he did confirm he'd driven Crocodile off.
Smoker curled his lip. The Marines do have internal divisions over what justice means, but nearly all of them feel the same way about the Warlords.
"Vent for those guys? Don't get it twisted. If they lose, that's on their own lack of skill. If anything, we should be asking whether they're even worth keeping around."
He said "those guys," which made it clear he meant all the Warlords, not just Crocodile.
Charles was noncommittal. This was why he looked down on the Marines. The Marines' attitude never swayed the World Government.
As the Five Elders told Akainu after he became Fleet Admiral, his face didn't matter.
If that's true of the Fleet Admiral, how much truer is it of the entire Marines?
After venting a little, Smoker faced Charles. "So who are you really? And why are you clashing with Crocodile?"
Charles brought the hammer down hard, then suddenly turned his head to look at Smoker.
Under that direct gaze, Smoker reflexively stepped back, his heart immediately pounding faster.
"I don't recall being obligated to answer you," Charles said.
Smoker had already calmed down. He stopped his subordinates from raising their guard and gave Charles a long look. "Fair enough. But I'll advise you not to do anything excessive in this country. If you do, we'll send you to Impel Down, even if it costs us our lives."
With that, Smoker left with a very reluctant Tashigi.
A while later, the Straw Hats came running back. They had better sense than Smoker and waited to the side while Charles finished forging.
They all jumped when Fal—the statue they'd thought was decorative—suddenly spewed flames to heat the blade.
Of course, it took everyone hauling Luffy back to keep his curiosity from interrupting Charles.
With only two samples to work from, Charles's research wasn't going smoothly; this was just a test of his current findings.
So the smithing wrapped up quickly. He quenched the blade blank decisively, then, after hardening, took out the katana, finished the polish and assembly, and finally let out a breath.
In terms of quality alone, this blade surpassed the Skillful Grade tier, but Charles could feel it was still somewhat different from the famed swords of this world.
He'd sensed as much during forging. But out of a smith's pride, he wouldn't permit an inferior piece in his hands, so he brought every technique he knew to bear to complete it.
Because of that, this blade differed even more from a standard famed sword. It was closer to another renowned class of blades in this world.
Zoro hadn't taken his eyes off it. He stepped forward. "Charles, can I take a look at that sword?"
Charles tossed it over. Zoro caught it and tried to draw it, but the blade might as well have been welded to the scabbard—it didn't budge.
Grinning like a prankster whose trick had landed, Charles said, "This one's a very proud child. A swordsman who doesn't meet its standards won't draw it."
That's right—this as-yet-unnamed blade was a cursed blade.
Roger had the gift of hearing the Voice of All Things, and a swordsman has to grasp the Breath of All Things to become a master.
In other words, everything has something like a consciousness, and a cursed blade is one whose spirit is unusually strong and peculiar.
Zoro's Sandai Kitetsu, for example, is a cursed blade. Several generations of owners before him all died unnatural deaths.
Another cursed blade is Enma, once Kozuki Oden's. It will drain its owner's Haki on its own, even to the point of wringing them dry.
Charles's newly forged cursed blade, by contrast, was far gentler. It would only reject swordsmen without the right aptitude.
As expected, Zoro took it personally. Veins bulged on his forearms as he tried to force it out.
A flicker of anticipation crossed Charles's face. As a smith, he wanted his blade to find a fitting master.
Zoro absolutely had the aptitude, but whether the sword would acknowledge him was up to him.
Jaw clenched, Zoro cleared his mind of everything else. Aiming to become the world's greatest swordsman, how could he surrender before a single blade?
The clack of blade and scabbard rang out, like a living thing struggling inside.
The tug-of-war lasted a good ten-odd minutes before the sword quieted like a tamed stallion.
The blade slid out inch by inch, and Zoro finally saw its edge.
He'd never seen such a dense, regular temper pattern; scales like a dragon's covered the blade, which gave off a strange, searing heat.
Drawing it fully, Zoro made a habitual practice swing.
Charles's anvil sat before him. Zoro's cut fell—and though the blade didn't touch the anvil, a corner of it dropped away.
Zoro's pupils shrank. He couldn't even cut steel yet, let alone unleash the flying slashes only great swordsmen can. Which meant the sheer sharpness of the edge alone had let him do what only they can.
For a swordsman, that was unquestionably the wrong path. Yet he couldn't bring himself to put the blade down.
Seeing his reluctance, Charles said, "That was just a trial piece to test my hand. If you like it, you can have it.
But a warning: a swordsman who relies too much on this child will never truly own it. When you can draw it at will, give it a name yourself."
Zoro nodded, slid it back into its scabbard, and didn't tuck it at his waist like his working blades. He carried it in his hand instead.
He made a silent vow: unless he became a true great swordsman by his own strength, he would never draw this sword again.
Charles had no doubts about Zoro's resolve to tame the blade. He turned to the others. "Now, let's talk about why you came to see me.
You're here for Crocodile too, right?"
At the shift to serious business, everyone sobered up—except Luffy, who was sneaking up on Fal.
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