Three days had passed since the stranger washed up by the river.
Three days, and already whispers had begun to spread.
A man with three swords.
A drunk with eyes like steel.
A warrior who cut a tree clean in half — with a single swing.
No one in the village saw it happen, but that never stopped a story from growing.
By the time word reached the next settlement, he had apparently slain a band of rogue shinobi barehanded.
And by the time the rumor hit the Senju borders, the tale had a name —
The Green Demon of the Riverlands.
---
Zoro wasn't impressed.
He sat on a boulder by the river, chewing on a stalk of grass and frowning at the empty sky.
"Green Demon, huh? Could've picked something cooler," he muttered.
His swords rested beside him, neatly lined up. The village girl — Mina — had left him a meal again, and he'd eaten just enough not to starve. He didn't like owing favors, but the girl was stubborn. Reminded him of a certain rubber idiot back home.
He exhaled slowly, looking down at his reflection. His face was calm, but his eyes — sharp and alert — traced the ripples that never seemed to fade.
There it was again.
That same feeling — like something alive was beneath the surface, watching him.
---
Inside his body, the balance between Haki and chakra was stabilizing.
Every morning he felt it — his willpower sharpening his senses, while his body drew in faint traces of the world's natural energy through breath and instinct.
It wasn't natural, but it worked.
Haki — pure spiritual pressure — obeyed his will.
Chakra — spiritual plus physical — flowed like breath.
Together, they reinforced each other, though never merging.
He didn't realize it yet, but his physiology was evolving.
The mysterious island hadn't just transported him — it had rewritten the fundamental rules of his existence. His soul, attuned to both realities, had forced his body to adapt. Time itself struggled to move around him, resulting in a slowed aging process.
Still, Zoro didn't think about any of that. He just noticed he hadn't been hungry for days and his wounds healed almost instantly.
He found that convenient.
---
Later that day, a small group of Senju scouts crouched behind the tree line across the river.
"See him?" whispered one.
The youngest, barely sixteen, nodded nervously. "He's just… sitting there. Not moving."
"Doesn't look like a shinobi," another said. "No forehead protector, no chakra signature. But—"
The man stopped mid-sentence.
The swordsman moved.
He lifted his arm lazily, unsheathing one sword with a sound like splitting air. The motion was so casual it was almost lazy — until the tree beside him fell in half.
The scouts froze.
Zoro didn't even glance at the tree. He sheathed his sword and stood, stretching.
"That one's straighter," he muttered, eyeing another tree.
The scouts disappeared in a blur of leaves before he even noticed them.
---
Two days later, the report reached the Senju camp.
Inside a large tent, Hashirama Senju leaned over a map while his younger brother Tobirama read the scout's words aloud.
> "Unidentified male. Height approximately six feet. Muscular build. Carries three swords. No visible clan markings. Displays combat capability beyond measurable chakra output. Unclear if shinobi or missing-nin."
Hashirama raised an eyebrow. "No chakra output, but strength beyond measure?"
Tobirama frowned. "Could be a unique bloodline or foreign training method. But there's more…"
He turned the page.
> "Subject's presence induces abnormal fear in animals. Air pressure increases when he moves. Trees fall with single strikes."
Hashirama chuckled softly. "Sounds like a fisherman's tale."
Tobirama didn't smile. "Or something worse. If he's hostile, we can't ignore it."
Before either could speak further, a messenger hawk landed outside the tent.
The seal on the letter bore a crimson fan.
Hashirama sighed. "Uchiha reports again, I'm guessing."
Tobirama opened it, scanning the contents. His expression darkened.
"They've seen him too."
---
Far across the forest, the Uchiha encampment buzzed with activity.
Young Madara Uchiha, his hair long and wild, sat sharpening a kunai as his brother Izuna read aloud from a stolen Senju report.
"So the Senju have spotted him too," Izuna said. "A swordsman with no chakra? Sounds ridiculous."
Madara smirked. "If both sides think he's real, he's worth finding."
"Why? He's just some rogue."
Madara looked out toward the mountains. His eyes gleamed faintly red.
"I've fought hundreds of shinobi. I've seen power from hatred, ambition, and talent. But power without chakra?"
He stood, slipping the kunai into his belt.
"That's something new. And new things change the world."
Izuna grinned. "Then let's see who finds him first."
---
Back by the river, Zoro yawned.
He'd spent the day cutting wood for the village in exchange for food — though, truth be told, he didn't mind the quiet.
The villagers had warmed up to him slowly, even if they still whispered when he passed. Some kids had started calling him Mister Green Demon, which made him groan every time.
That night, he sat alone beneath the stars, sake bottle in hand. The world was peaceful, but his instincts weren't.
He felt… watched. Not by villagers.
By predators. Warriors.
"Guess hiding's not my thing anyway," he muttered.
He closed his eye, breathing in deeply. The world around him pulsed faintly.
Every sound, every movement — sharper.
Haki expanded outward like an invisible wave, brushing across the forest, through the trees… and straight into the minds of several approaching scouts.
Their hearts skipped a beat as the weight of his spirit hit them.
"What—what is this pressure!?" one gasped, collapsing to his knees.
Zoro stood, expression calm but his aura crackling faintly. "So that's how it is, huh?"
His lips curved into a small grin.
"Looks like I'm popular again."
---
By dawn, both clans had confirmed the same thing:
An unknown warrior existed between their territories.
He wasn't Uchiha.
He wasn't Senju.
And whatever he was…
He wasn't normal.
The legend grew louder.
A man who could cut chakra-enhanced weapons in half.
A demon whose will could crush shinobi without touching them.
A warrior who walked between worlds.
None of them knew his name.
But soon — they would.
To be continued...