Chapter 26
"You know what?" Silas said suddenly, flipping moods like a coin. He pulled out the two borrowed swords.
"Let's ditch these junkers first."
The shift was so abrupt it made both Zoro and Ipponmatsu blink. The tension vanished—Silas now looked like a man ready to haggle.
"They've been screwing up moss-head's fighting style anyway." He set the blades on the counter.
"What'll you give us?"
Ipponmatsu examined them, visibly relieved to handle normal steel.
"Mass-produced, but decent. Fifteen thousand for both?"
"Done." Silas pocketed the cash.
"Easy profit."
Zoro shook his head.
"You're weird, fancy boy."
"Says the guy who played chicken with a cursed sword."
They were about to browse when Ipponmatsu raised a hand.
"Wait. Before you look at the premium collection..."
He vanished into the back.
"Where's he going?" Zoro muttered.
"Fetching something that'll bankrupt us."
Ipponmatsu returned with a katana in a white scabbard, face serious but warm.
"That stunt with Kitetsu reminded me why I got into this business."
He laid the sword down with reverence.
"This is Yubashiri. One of the fifty Skillful Grade swords. Same class as Kitetsu—but not cursed. It's been waiting for someone worthy."
Zoro's eyes widened. Even sheathed, the blade radiated quality.
"How much?"
"Nothing. It's a gift. That sword's been gathering dust too long—it needs purpose."
"You're serious?"
"Dead serious. A blade like that belongs with someone who stared down a curse and didn't blink."
Zoro drew Yubashiri slowly. The steel sang—a pure, crystalline note that made every weapon in the shop hum in response.
"This is..." His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Incredible."
---
The bell chimed. Heavy boots crossed the floor.
"Ipponmatsu-san! Is my Shigure ready? I need—"
The voice cut off as Ensign Tashigi stepped into view, new glasses glinting. She froze, hand drifting toward her sword.
"Oh. It's you two. The green-haired one and the..." Her tone softened.
"The generous one."
Zoro tensed, hand brushing Wado Ichimonji's hilt. That face. Those eyes.
Kuina.
But Silas stepped forward, all charm.
"Marine! Glad to see the new glasses. They suit you."
Tashigi touched the frames, smiling.
"Thank you again. I got these and still had money left over." Her gaze dropped to their weapons.
"Wait... are those swords?"
Her whole demeanor shifted. Marine formality gave way to pure, unfiltered excitement.
"You're swordsmen! That's wonderful! Are you familiar with Roronoa Zoro? He uses a three-sword style that's absolutely—"
She stopped mid-sentence. Eyes widened. Green hair. Three swords. That scar.
"Wait a minute..."
"Shit," Zoro muttered.
But instead of reaching for her blade, Tashigi lit up like a kid on holiday.
"Your swords! May I see them? Please? I study blade craft—I can tell those are exceptional."
Zoro looked like he'd rather wrestle Kitetsu again, but her enthusiasm was hard to ignore. Reluctantly, he drew Wado Ichimonji.
"This one's Wado Ichimonji," he said quietly, voice gentler than usual.
Tashigi gasped, hands hovering.
"One of the twenty-one Great Grade swords! The balance, the craftsmanship..." She looked up, eyes shining.
"This is a masterpiece. It must mean a lot to you."
Something flickered in Zoro's face—surprise that she understood.
"Yeah. It does."
"And this one..." Her gaze shifted to Sandai Kitetsu. Her tone darkened.
"This is cursed. I can feel it—that cold, hungry presence. Sandai Kitetsu. One of the demon blades."
"You know your swords," Zoro admitted.
"But it's not the most dangerous blade in this room." Her eyes drifted to Silas. The air seemed to chill.
"That sabre... that's something else entirely."
Silas raised a brow.
"What do you think you know about my Blood Fang?"
Tashigi's voice dropped.
"Blood Fang. One of the War Demons. I can feel it even sheathed—hunger, intelligence. It doesn't just seek blood. It judges."
She looked up, practically glowing.
"Two legendary blades in one place—Wado Ichimonji and Blood Fang!"
"Stories?" Silas asked, despite himself.
"Oh yes!" She pushed her glasses up.
"Blood Fang was forged by a legendary smith five hundred years ago. He called himself 'Daytime.' He didn't just use steel—he used pieces of his soul."
Silas went still.
"Daytime?"
"That's right. He created the War Demons—each more dangerous than the last. But his masterpiece..." Her voice dropped.
"The Sinister Moon. The only Supreme Grade among them."
She shuddered.
"They say its curse is so terrible it drives men mad. No one knows where it is. Most hope it doesn't exist. It doesn't just corrupt its wielder—it corrupts everything around it."
"And you believe all that?" Silas asked, hand drifting to Blood Fang's hilt.
"I believe in legendary craftsmen. Your sabre... it's watching me even now."
Zoro glanced between them.
"Great. Demon swords and cursed sabres. What could go wrong?"
"Nothing—if you're strong enough to master them." Tashigi smiled.
"But isn't it exciting? Real legendary weapons, right here!"
Ipponmatsu cleared his throat.
"Perhaps we speak of less ominous things? The young lady came for her Shigure."
"Oh! Right!" Tashigi clapped her hands.
As Ipponmatsu went to retrieve her sword, Silas studied the Marine with new interest. There was more to her than met the eye.
The name 'Daytime' echoed in his mind like a half-remembered dream.
"Tell me, Miss," he said casually,
"Where'd you learn about the War Demons?"
Tashigi's eyes sparkled.
"Marine archives. The deep ones. Records of dangerous weapons, old bounties, legendary smiths... it's all there if you know where to look."
She leaned in, conspiratorial.
"There are stories about blades that shaped history. Want to hear more?"
Despite himself, Silas found he very much did.