Zoro took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Repeating the cycle, the fire within him settled—not extinguished, but tamed—restoring a calm clarity. In this critical moment, composure was vital, a lifeline he couldn't relinquish.
His shoulder bore a wound, hastily patched but unhealed, a potential liability. Ideally, he'd face this fight in peak condition, but testing his arm, he found it moved freely, pain forgotten. For now, that was enough. During this duel, it had to be.
Raising his gaze, he locked eyes with his opponent. Mihawk stood ready, tiny knife raised, poised for battle. The duel had already begun. Their weapons drawn, they stared, probing for an opening. Even Zoro's deep breaths, exposing vulnerability, meant little to Mihawk—a fleeting lapse was no advantage against him.
A single moment's distraction would spell defeat. Steeling himself, Zoro moved first.
Charging head-on without tricks, he swung his right-hand sword with full force. Mihawk countered, his knife clashing against the blade, metal ringing sharply. Zoro's powerful strike was effortlessly deflected, revealing Mihawk's skill in an instant.
(Parried—!) Zoro thought, stunned.
Planting his feet, he swung his left-hand sword next, a blow too heavy for most to block with one arm. Forged by trained muscle and refined technique, it surged toward Mihawk. Yet, it was parried again, the blade slicing only air with a dull clang.
His attacks couldn't reach. Not a sliver touched the man he'd targeted. Gritting his teeth, Zoro unleashed a relentless assault.
"RAAAGH!" he roared.
Three swords—two in hand, one in mouth—unleashed a barrage. Each strike could cleave a foe, but Mihawk deflected every one, his movements precise, unyielding. The exchange was beyond the cooks' comprehension, a blur of speed too fast for a blink. Zoro pressed on, his eyes blazing with resolve.
His attacks didn't land, but retreating wasn't his way. A master of brute force, he poured his all into the offensive, trusting his blades. Knowing he couldn't win didn't mean abandoning victory. He fought to win, his path one of ceaseless attack.
No matter how fiercely he struck or probed for openings, Mihawk's guard remained impenetrable. With masterful skill, he parried every blow, unshaken, untouchable. Yet Zoro hadn't exhausted his arsenal. His swords' edge sharpened with each swing.
"What a savage blade…" Mihawk murmured.
He hadn't moved a step, wielding only his right arm, his feet rooted. Did he believe he could win without moving? Yosaku, who revered Zoro's strength, gritted his teeth—not Zoro. He knew Zoro's prowess, believed him the East Blue's greatest swordsman, unbeatable. This scene was a nightmare.
Yosaku's body tensed, his urge to cheer suppressed. He wanted Zoro's victory but refused to distract him. A shout could disrupt his focus, so he clenched his fists, trembling, watching with a heart ready to burst.
Luffy, too, held silent, the agony of merely watching unbearable. Fighting himself would be easier—this helplessness was torture. Losing Zoro was unthinkable, but stopping him was impossible. All he could do was watch, praying for victory.
Zoro slammed his swords harder, leaping back after another parry. Forcing steady breaths, he lowered his gaze, thinking. The fight's tide was clear—Mihawk dominated.
(Such a gentle blade. No matter where I strike, he parries effortlessly. I've never seen a sword so refined…)
He couldn't pause for a second. Snapping his head up, he charged, glaring, gripping his swords tighter. (Don't hesitate!)
Thrusting, he was parried, his stance faltering, but he pressed forward. Ignoring sword range, he stepped closer. Mihawk's expression shifted—Zoro's reckless move defied swordsmanship norms, entering a dangerous range exposed to counterattack. Undeterred, Zoro aimed for Mihawk's neck.
Unfazed, Mihawk stepped back, parrying flawlessly, maintaining distance. He deemed Zoro's tactic shallow, a desperate bid to shift the fight. Zoro didn't pursue further. Seeing Mihawk retreat, he crossed his arms, preparing a Three-Sword Style technique.
The distance was perfect. Kicking the ground, Zoro lunged. "Oni… Giri!"
A ferocious triple assault, unmatched in momentum. Yosaku, seeing the stance, pumped his fist, certain of victory. Mihawk, calm, bent his knees, bracing, and thrust his knife with silent precision.
A single clash. Zoro's Oni Giri, capable of slicing through flesh, was stopped by one strike, frozen in place.
"No way! Stopping aniki's Oni Giri?!" Yosaku gasped.
No one had ever halted that move, a guaranteed kill—except Mihawk.
Zoro remained calm, his mind clear, as if expecting this. Breaking the deadlock with a forceful swing, he staggered back, reassessing. Mihawk wasn't just skill. His slender frame hid superhuman strength, mastery beyond the East Blue, and an unshakable spirit.
A perfect swordsman—technique, body, and mind in harmony. The ultimate, worthy of "greatest."
That's why Zoro refused to lose.
"No matter who you are, my sword is unyielding… I'll break through!" Zoro roared.
"Losing yourself in haste? A rigid blade holds no strength," Mihawk replied.
Zoro charged again, fearless, seeing only victory. "Takanotsume!"
A shockwave surged from his swift swing, skimming the ground. Mihawk, reading it perfectly, countered with three rapid slashes, shattering the attack. Such a flying slash was unseen in the East Blue. Undaunted, Zoro pressed on, expecting resistance.
Closing in, he clashed blades repeatedly, still unable to budge Mihawk. Changing tactics, he spun, his swords generating wind. The cooks didn't grasp it, but Mihawk's brow twitched, sensing a shift—not brute force, but a fluid, "gentle" sword.
"Tornado!" Zoro shouted.
Mihawk didn't dodge. A swift knife swing sliced the whirlwind, not even grazing his clothes, dispelled by sheer force. Yosaku gaped, speechless. Zoro advanced, undeterred.
Repositioning two swords behind him, he gathered strength, then slashed with all three like claws, a beastly strike meant to rend. But it had to reach. Seeing Zoro's relentless advance, Mihawk countered for the first time.
"Your spirit is commendable. But naive," Mihawk said.
"Tiger Hunt!" Zoro roared.
A flash. Mihawk's knife pierced Zoro's chest. He hadn't let his guard down, never looked away, yet the strike landed. Mihawk's speed was inhuman, beyond mortal reaction.
Yosaku gasped as Zoro's arms fell limp, his attack halted. Standing on tiptoe, Zoro stood, knife buried in his chest. Pain spread, blood rising in his throat. Spitting blood, the white sheath of his sword stained red, dripping to the floor.
The blow was decisive, yet Zoro refused to yield. With the knife in his chest, pain searing, and victory impossible, he summoned strength to advance. Mihawk's brow twitched at the unnatural movement. Unmoving, he questioned, "Why not retreat? Do you want your heart pierced?"
"Dunno… I don't know why," Zoro said.
"Step back, or die," Mihawk warned.
"Yeah… but if I retreat even one step, I feel like something vital—my vows, my promises—would break, and I'd never return here," Zoro said.
"That's defeat," Mihawk said.
Zoro grinned, blood dripping. "Then I can't retreat."
"Even if it means death?" Mihawk asked.
Curiosity drove Mihawk to ask. Zoro answered, resolve unshaken. "Death's better."
An extraordinary will, not for everyone. Mihawk, intrigued, withdrew the knife, stepping back. Holding the bloodied blade, he spoke softly, "Choose death over defeat? Fine. Your name, boy."
"Roronoa Zoro," he replied, voice strong, resuming his stance.
"A rare warrior. I'll remember you. A toy knife doesn't suit you. As a swordsman's courtesy, I'll sink you with the world's greatest black blade, Yoru."
Mihawk sheathed the knife, drawing the massive sword that had cleaved Krieg's fleet. The crowd gasped, but Zoro remained unshaken, smiling. His heart was still, like a clear lake, free of hostility. Facing Mihawk, he held no killing intent, his stance serene, blades steady. Only his heartbeat roared.
He felt transformed. Death held no fear; nothing did. Unconsciously, his mind wandered. (If I fail here, I die. Would she have stopped me? Thinking of the crew, she'd say to run, not do something stupid.)
He realized this calm came from his nakama. Alone, he wouldn't have thought this way. With them, he felt both the drive to fight and guilt for risking himself. No regrets, no intent to die. He had people to share victory with, in this world and beyond. Losing wasn't an option.
(No, Luffy allowed this. He'd grumble but didn't stop me. Dying here would break my promise.)
Choosing death over defeat, yet unable to die for his crew's sake, victory was his only path. At the peak of clarity, his technique reached its zenith. Ready for any outcome, this was his final stand.
Spinning his two swords, he prepared. Mihawk readied Yoru, choosing to meet the attack head-on. A straightforward duel—perfect. As all watched, breathless, Zoro moved.
"Three-Sword Style Secret Technique!"
Charging, swords spinning, he kicked the ground, pouring his soul into one strike. "Three Thousand Worlds!"
They clashed. The outcome was clear.
Zoro's two handheld swords shattered, their blades flying. The one in his mouth remained, but his attack was parried effortlessly. In that instant, Mihawk's blade slashed Zoro's abdomen, blood spraying.
Mihawk stood unscathed. Zoro, bleeding heavily, stayed calm. Discarding the broken hilts, he sheathed his remaining sword with a clink. Mihawk turned, ready to finish him.
(I lost… Never thought I'd lose. This is the world's greatest sword.)
Holding his sword tightly, Zoro turned, arms spread, exposing his front, showing no intent to fight. Mihawk paused, puzzled. "What are you doing?"
"A scar on the back is a swordsman's shame," Zoro said, smiling brightly.
Mihawk returned a faint smile, acknowledging him, and swung Yoru. The blade carved from Zoro's left chest to his right side in a single, powerful strike. Blood sprayed, and Zoro staggered, looking skyward.
A devastating blow. All watched, transfixed. Luffy screamed, "ZORO!" Yosaku, tears streaming, wailed, "ANIKI!" overwhelmed by loss.
Mihawk sheathed Yoru coldly, walking to his boat without looking back. "Don't rush to die, young warrior."
"You bastard! You did this to Zoro!" Luffy roared, charging at Mihawk, fists clenched. Mihawk didn't turn. Yosaku ran to Zoro's side.
The scene erupted in chaos, murmurs rising. Sanji, biting through his cigarette, muttered, "He's insane… Knowing he'd lose, why fight? He could've lived if he'd abandoned his ambition. He's smart enough for that. If death's the price, give it up."
Trembling, Sanji shouted, "It's simple! Just abandon your ambition!"
Luffy lunged, swinging at Mihawk, who sidestepped, dodging effortlessly. Luffy's fist struck the fin, and using it as leverage, he swung again. Mihawk turned, his piercing gaze meeting Luffy's.
"Straw Hat. You bore witness well," Mihawk said.
"RAAAGH!" Luffy roared, attacking again, only to crash into the floor, splintering wood. As he rose, Mihawk spoke, facing his boat. "Relax. He's still alive."
"What?!" Luffy spun around.
Yosaku knelt beside Zoro, who coughed blood, barely conscious. He was alive. "Zoro!" Luffy cried.
"Aniki! I thought you were gone!" Yosaku sobbed.
"A fine display. Too early for you to die," Mihawk said, standing at the fin's edge, back turned. His voice, though soft, carried in the silence. "I am Dracule Mihawk. I'll wait for you at the top, for months or years."
Luffy froze, absorbing the words, staring at Mihawk's imposing back. Zoro felt it too, despite his state. "Know yourself, know the world, grow stronger. With your fierce spirit, surpass this sword. Surpass me, Roronoa!"
His voice dominated, a challenge to one young man from the world's greatest swordsman—a rare spectacle. The crowd watched, breathless, as Mihawk boarded his boat, glancing at Luffy. Noticing the straw hat, he asked, "Boy, that hat. Red-Haired's?"
"You know Shanks?" Luffy asked.
"As I thought. What's your goal?" Mihawk asked.
"Pirate King," Luffy said.
"A harder path than surpassing me," Mihawk said.
"Don't care. I'll do it," Luffy replied.
Mihawk smirked, boarding his boat. Yosaku's panicked voice halted him. "Aniki! Don't move!"
Luffy turned. Zoro, barely conscious, had drawn his sword, pointing it skyward. He shouldn't be moving—his wounds were fatal. Yet he sought Luffy.
"Luffy… you there?" Zoro rasped.
"Yeah, I'm here," Luffy said, sitting nearby.
"Can you… hear me?"
"Yeah, I hear you. You're okay," Luffy assured.
Zoro's voice was faint, on the edge of death. Speaking risked his life, but Luffy's gaze stopped Yosaku's protests, letting him speak. Barely breathing, Zoro's sword didn't waver. His resolve stunned the cooks, who saw madness in his defiance.
Speaking slowly, he said, "Did I… worry you? If I don't become the greatest swordsman… you'd be in trouble, right?"
"Aniki!" Yosaku wept.
Clenching his teeth, Zoro swallowed blood, forcing himself to continue. "I… I won't…!"
For a moment, strength returned. Pain forgotten, chest burning, he raised his left hand to wipe tears, failing to stop them. Emotions unleashed, he roared, "I won't lose again!"
His voice echoed, heard by all. Luffy grinned, joy overtaking him. Mihawk's lips twitched, and Sanji stared, stunned. Zoro's oath reached his captain.
"Until I beat him and become the greatest! I'll never lose again!"
Luffy's smile widened, heartfelt. Zoro's tone shifted. "Any objections, Pirate King?"
"Shishishi, none," Luffy replied.
Exhausted, Zoro lowered his arm, collapsing. Yosaku frantically called the cooks. Speaking at all was miraculous—he could die if untreated. As the fin grew chaotic, Mihawk prepared to leave, glancing at Luffy with a hint of warmth in his gaze.
"Good team. I'd like to meet you again," Mihawk said.
"Hey, you know Shanks. Where is he?" Luffy asked.
"Too soon for you. But you've shown resolve. I'll tell you," Mihawk said, arms crossed, facing Luffy. "The New World."
"New… World?" Luffy repeated.
"The second half of the Grand Line. I'll be there. Come," Mihawk said.
"Got it!" Luffy shouted.
As Baratie bustled to treat Zoro, Mihawk departed. Certain Zoro's oath meant he wouldn't die, Luffy mulled over "New World," envisioning his reunion with Shanks. Facing a man far stronger, he realized their adventure had barely begun. The Grand Line awaited.
Luffy ran to Zoro, diving into the chaos. The fleet's annihilation, the duel with the world's greatest swordsman, and Zoro's defiant vow overwhelmed them. Ignoring Krieg's fate, they shouted, treating wounds and sharing awe, consumed by the moment's intensity.
---------------------------------------------
🚀 Want more?
📖 On Patreon you can read 20+ chapters ahead, plus there will be exclusive stories available only there.
💖 If you'd like to support me, check it out: patreon.com/Greyhounds
🔓 Patreon will always stay ahead of the public release — and some stories won't be published anywhere else.
✨ All support is completely optional — even if you don't join, I'm still grateful to have you here reading!