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In the year 1510 of the Sea Calendar, on the Grand Line. The sky was blue, the water was clear, and the sun was brilliant.
A standard-issue Marine warship sailed slowly across the sea. Its hull was painted sea blue, and the iconic seagull flag fluttered in the wind.
In terms of size, it was among the largest class of all Marine warships.
"Hey! You, Smoker, go down and catch a few Sea Kings to improve the crew's meals," Atlas said from the deck.
He was lounging under a parasol, a small table laden with various fruit drinks beside his spacious chair. Behind him stood Smoker and Vergo.
Sengoku had specially approved this vacation time; it was his idea, in fact.
So, Atlas decided to head to the East Blue for a visit, as it was something of a hometown to him. Mejes and Kyros were left behind to guard Sabaody in his stead.
As for Vergo, from the moment he joined his fleet, Atlas had decided to take him everywhere to prevent him from causing any trouble.
"Brother Atlas, I'm a Devil Fruit user. I can't go in the sea," Smoker said helplessly, covered in lumps.
Ever since he had reported for duty on Sabaody, Atlas had dragged him into sparring matches almost daily.
He was now perpetually covered in bruises; his healing ability was nowhere near as monstrous as Atlas's, so new lumps would form before the old ones had even faded.
"Ah? Sorry about that. Beating you up these past few days has become such a habit that I almost forgot you were a Devil Fruit user."
Atlas waved his hand apologetically, then turned to Vergo, who was standing ramrod straight.
"Alright, Vergo, you go down. Today's meal is on you!"
"Yes, sir!" It had to be said that, ignoring his status as an undercover agent, Vergo was a model subordinate.
He would meticulously carry out every order Atlas gave him, and his skills were quite impressive.
On the warship's deck, a giant Sea King was laid out on a grill. This was Atlas's lunch. About a third of the massive beast that Vergo had caught would end up in Atlas's stomach.
He couldn't help it; his appetite had been growing larger and larger, but so too had his physical strength, all thanks to the excellent nutrition available in the world of pirates.
"Vice Admiral, sir! A ship has been spotted ahead, approaching our position!" Just as Atlas patted his flat stomach in satisfaction, a lookout ran over and reported loudly.
"Hmm? Are they pirates?"
"It doesn't seem to be flying a pirate flag. I can't make out the details, but..." The lookout hesitated. "It looks like the person is... paddling the boat with a sword?"
"..."
Soon, the boat the lookout mentioned came into Atlas's view. Its design was bizarre. The hull was tiny, barely big enough for one person.
White candles burned on either side, their flames glowing an eerie green. The mast was shaped like a cross, its sail unfurled, and there was no visible rudder to steer it. It looked more like a coffin.
A man on the boat was frantically paddling through the water with a longsword also shaped like a cross, propelling the small vessel forward.
With his powerful vision and Observation Haki, Atlas got a clear look at the man for the first time.
He wore a black fedora decorated with white fluff, a wine-red patterned shirt under a black trench coat, black boots, and white trousers.
This outfit, combined with the strange boat, would make anyone who didn't know better think they were seeing a ghost in broad daylight.
What left the deepest impression on Atlas were his eyes, as sharp as a hawk's. His expression was cold, and he had a short beard on his chin.
"Hm?" As if sensing the scrutinizing gaze, the man nonchalantly stopped paddling, stood up, and gracefully sat down on the boat's only seat.
Atlas's expression turned peculiar. Isn't that Hawkeye?
Could it be that the future Don Krieg was ruthlessly pursued all the way to the East Blue because he witnessed Hawkeye paddling his boat with 'Black Blade Yoru'?
(Author's Note: I'm not sure if Hawkeye forged the black blade himself or if it was always a Supreme Grade Sword, so for this story, it was always named Black Blade Yoru.)
No wonder Krieg never understood why Hawkeye was chasing him. So you're that kind of Hawkeye... O_o
Not far away, Mihawk, whose boat was about to cross paths with the warship, was lost in thought. Should I... silence them?
"Is that... the swordsman 'Hawkeye' Dracule Mihawk?" Smoker, standing beside Atlas, seemed to recognize him, his expression turning grave.
"'Hawkeye' the swordsman?" Atlas understood. It seemed the Mihawk of this era was still striving for the title of the World's Strongest Swordsman.
In the original story, Shanks lost his arm two years from now, and before that, he often dueled with Mihawk.
The current Shanks probably wasn't too powerful, maybe at the level of a mid-tier Warlord.
He would become one of the Four Emperors in the year 1518 of the Sea Calendar, having entered the New World in 1510.
It took him six years to conquer the New World—his talent was truly remarkable.
If Roger was the chosen one of the last era, then Shanks was likely the chosen one for the blank period between Roger and Luffy, becoming an Emperor at the young age of 33.
"That's right. Ever since his debut, he has been sailing the seas, challenging powerful swordsmen.
Because of his hawk-like eyes, he's known as 'Hawkeye'," Smoker explained.
"Does he have a bounty?"
"Uh, he should. The World Government wouldn't just ignore such a dangerous individual. I can't remember the exact amount, though," Smoker said, scratching his head in embarrassment.
Soon, the two vessels met. Mihawk hadn't wanted to provoke the Marines, but his gaze suddenly fell upon the Sandai Kitetsu at Atlas's waist.
His eyes then traveled up, finally resting on Atlas's chiseled face. In Mihawk's mind, he had set out to sea to hone his swordsmanship; getting chased by the Marines over unnecessary trouble would be a huge hassle.
However, if the opponent was a swordsman who piqued his interest, he would cross blades with them even if they were a Celestial Dragon. This was a true swordsman, utterly devoted to the blade!
"A swordsman?" The voice wasn't loud, but it reached Atlas's ears clearly.
"You could say that," Atlas nodded slightly, meeting Mihawk's sharp gaze without flinching.
Suddenly, a bold idea formed in Atlas's mind. He probably hasn't become a Warlord yet, has he? What if...
Grand Line, on a deserted island.
The island wasn't very large. The world of pirates had no shortage of deserted islands. This one was particularly desolate, with no birds or beasts to be found.
Mihawk was intrigued by Atlas's status as a swordsman, and Atlas had some ideas about Mihawk as well—perfectly normal ones, of course.
Thus, the two hit it off immediately. They couldn't fight on the ship; the destructive force of their clash would be enough to trigger a sizable tsunami, and the warship would surely be damaged. That would mean an early end to Atlas's vacation.
Shing!
Mihawk said nothing more, simply drawing the 'Black Blade Yoru' from his back. He pointed its tip at Atlas, the meaning unmistakable.
Atlas naturally responded with his own swordsmanship. Although he didn't consider himself a pure swordsman, the thrill of the hunt was undeniable when faced with the future World's Strongest Swordsman.
He coated his blade with Armament Haki, making the already demonic Sandai Kitetsu appear even more profound.
Though the quality of the Sandai Kitetsu was comparable to a Skillful Grade Sword, Mihawk's 'Black Blade Yoru' was one of the twelve known Supreme Grade Swords and was hailed as the world's strongest black blade.
The difference in their quality was like night and day. As it was Atlas's only sword at present, he would be heartbroken if it were damaged.
"One Sword Style: Chaotic Cross-Blossom!" Atlas attacked first, unleashing a dense, chaotic flurry of cross-shaped slashes that nearly blotted out the sun.
"What sharp slashes." Mihawk held 'Black Blade Yoru' diagonally in front of him, its edge aimed at Atlas. A green slash shot forth from the blade! It was immense, large enough to eclipse all of Atlas's cross-slashes.
Although Atlas claimed not to be a pure swordsman, Mihawk's Observation Haki told him that the man before him was incredibly strong.
In terms of raw power, he might not be his match. But as someone aiming to be the World's Strongest Swordsman, how could he possibly retreat?
"No way, a slash like that is just too absurd!" From the distant warship, the crew could clearly see the massive clash of attacks.
Although they were mentally prepared for the fact that both men were incredibly powerful, seeing such an exaggerated display with their own eyes was a huge visual shock for Smoker.
Atlas had always been a cut above him back in Loguetown, and now, after leaving the recruit training camp, the gap between them hadn't shrunk; it had grown even wider.
Brother Atlas must be among the world's top-tier powerhouses by now... Vergo, also standing on the ship, had a flicker in his eyes.
He was constantly comparing the strength of Doflamingo to the two men fighting, and a sense of dejection washed over him. The gap is a bit too large...
Sizzle! Sizzle!
As the slashes met, Mihawk's slash bizarrely split into two.
One part continued to divide, precisely meeting each of Atlas's cross-slashes, while the other half curved, flying straight toward Atlas himself!
What the hell! How can you be so slick?
Atlas was shocked. In terms of pure swordsmanship, Mihawk was the most outrageously skilled person he had ever met. His slashes can split? What are you, a spore?
Exhaling lightly, Atlas raised the Sandai Kitetsu and charged head-on toward the dark green slash. A slash of this level was not enough to threaten him!
CLANG!
The dark green slash, taller than a man, was split down the middle by Atlas. It continued flying backward without losing momentum, finally plunging into the sea!
SPLASH!
Two long, narrow gashes appeared on the calm surface of the sea, slowly closing only after the slash's power dissipated.
"This is the feeling..." Mihawk felt the blood in his veins begin to race. The feeling of constantly challenging the strong was simply intoxicating.
"The real show is just beginning!" Atlas grinned, maintaining his forward momentum.
His skill with the sword was indeed inferior to Mihawk's. His style had never been about finesse or elegance; it was neither as precise as Mihawk's nor as flashy as Vista's.
It could be described in one word: brute force! As long as I'm strong enough, I can cut you down!
"Waterfall Drop!" In an instant, Atlas appeared above Mihawk and brought his sword down in a vertical slash. There was no technique, no beauty—only ultimate power!
"This kind of swordsmanship..." In all his years, Mihawk could say he had never encountered a style like Atlas's.
This level of power was completely untethered from the blade itself; one could likely achieve the same effect with a club.
If he pursued the pinnacle of skill, then Atlas was the pinnacle of power! A heavy sword needs no edge, and great skill disdains artifice!
"But..." Mihawk raised his blade to parry. "...there is no superiority or inferiority in the way of the sword!"
CLANG!
The sound was crisp. Though his arm trembled slightly, his grip on the sword remained firm.
He had blocked it! Seeing his legs sink into the ground, Mihawk immediately held his blade horizontally across his chest, pushed off with his legs, and shot backward in retreat.
Atlas grimaced internally. As expected of the world's strongest black blade. The Sandai Kitetsu can't compare to its hardness.
Luckily, my Haki is strong enough. If it had been Vergo, he and his sword would probably have been obliterated.
"Your sword does not suit you," Mihawk said coolly.
For a swordsman who could be called a Great Swordsman not to have a suitable blade was unbelievable.
"Like I said, I'm not a true swordsman. To me, a sword is just a weapon," Atlas replied, his eyes narrowing as he shifted his blade.
SWISH!
Without continuing the topic, Mihawk swung 'Black Blade Yoru'! A dark green flying slash shot out, black Haki dancing cheerfully within it.
A gale-force wind swept forth, and every detail of the slash emitted a terrifying shriek, as if it were composed of countless smaller slashes.
A formidable Armament Haki was tightly wound around it.
"Uncuttable by no enemy, unbreakable by no slash..." Atlas was completely unfazed. The Haki on his Sandai Kitetsu grew even denser, and the muscles in his arm bulged.
"One Sword Style Secret Art: Crimson Skyline!"
A blood-red slash, tinged with deep black, soared into the sky! If 'Instant Thousand Slashes' was the ultimate expression of Atlas's speed, then 'Crimson Skyline' was the ultimate expression of his power!
(T/N: Please give me some power stone, I hope it can at least reach the top 100)
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