The Navy's Six Styles represent the pinnacle of martial arts, developed over centuries by generations of the Navy's strongest. They are practical techniques useful to almost anyone—whether they practice martial arts, swordsmanship, or possess Devil Fruit abilities.
Martial arts of this caliber naturally have an extremely high entry barrier. Not just anyone is qualified to learn them—one must at least possess a physique nearing "superhuman" levels to even begin training.
Among the newly promoted reserves like Rez, perhaps only two or three barely met the qualifications, and even then, there was a high chance they wouldn't succeed.
The other new recruits would likely need several months or even half a year of training to barely meet the threshold for cultivation.
Yet this was already remarkable. Once these recruits matured, they could probably stand on their own.
"It seems the headquarters is grooming these recruits as potential cadres from the start."
"No wonder the recruitment threshold is set at a Power Level of 200. After three years of training, most will probably reach or approach the strength of Revolutionary Army cadres."
This realization flashed through Rhode's mind, bringing sudden clarity.
From this perspective, each of the four seas likely had a branch base similar to Baltigo Island, each managed by one of the four army commanders, responsible for training ordinary soldiers and building the Revolutionary Army's foundation.
"This structure isn't much different from the Marines."
Though the Marines operated on a far larger scale, with bases spread across all four seas and even the first half of the Grand Line, all serving to train new recruits. Those with exceptional talent would be sent to the Marine Headquarters' elite training camp for advanced cultivation.
Calculating it this way, the Marines' foundation was terrifyingly strong, befitting one of the most powerful forces on the seas—perhaps even the most powerful without equal.
However, for the Revolutionary Army to be considered a threat by the World Government that had ruled for 800 years, they must have more than just conventional forces—there were likely many hidden elements at play.
"For the coming period, you'll be training in the Six Powers," Hatchan said solemnly. "It's fine if you can't master them. The Six Powers are martial arts that surpass human limits and can accelerate physical training. Just don't push yourselves too hard—injuring your bodies isn't worth it."
"Dismissed. Rhode, stay behind."
"Yes!" The group responded in unison, rising to leave. Before departing, every one of them cast an envious glance at Rhode.
This was clearly special treatment.
But there was no helping it. With Rhode ranking first in mission performance—even if there was some exaggeration—his strength had likely far surpassed theirs.
Rez sighed inwardly, finding it somewhat amusing. He had once believed himself to be the strongest of their batch.
"I will catch up to you!" he swore silently, stealing a glance at Rhode's calm expression.
Rhode didn't know what he was thinking, nor would he care if he did. Given Rhode's cultivation speed, once he surpassed someone, it was nearly impossible for them to catch up.
Once everyone had left, Hatchan slowly approached and sat before Rhode, smiling. "With your talent, even though my explanation was brief earlier, I imagine you understood most of it. If there's anything unclear, you can ask now."
Seeing his attitude, Rhode realized that this Six Powers instruction was likely tailored more for him alone. For Rez and the others, learning the Six Powers was still a bit too demanding.
After a brief pause, Rhode raised a few questions—some about details of Shave and Moon Walk, others about daily training.
Hatchan, a master of martial arts with years of teaching experience, had a clear grasp of the challenges students faced during training. His answers were systematic and insightful, making complex concepts simple. With Rhode's intellect, he grasped them immediately, experiencing moments of sudden clarity.Previously, he had been training alone, unknowingly taking many wrong paths along the way. While the harm might not be immediately apparent, prolonged practice could potentially damage his body.
The human body is the most precise instrument—even the slightest error can lead to severe consequences.
With Hatchan's guidance, Rhode felt he could not only correct these mistakes but also improve his future training efficiency by ten to twenty percent.
That might not sound like much, but over time, even a five percent increase would be substantial.
After answering another question, Hatchan patiently looked at Rhode without the slightest hint of impatience and asked, "Any more questions?"
"None. Thank you, Teacher Hatchan."
Rhode expressed his gratitude sincerely.
"Teaching students is my duty. No need for thanks."
Hatchan smiled and said, "Your swordsmanship talent is the best I've ever seen. Work hard and don't waste it."
"I'll remember that."
Seeing his attitude, Rhode was momentarily taken aback before realizing—Hatchan must have mistaken his Thunder Power for Sword Intent.
But this was within his expectations.
There were benefits to staying low-key, just as there were benefits to standing out.
As long as what he revealed remained within reasonable understanding, there wouldn't be much risk.
At this point, Rhode was, at most, just an exceptionally talented young man with limitless potential.
Whether he would grow into his potential was still uncertain.
"Alright, go on. Train hard."
"Mm."
Rhode nodded lightly and stood to leave.
Behind him, a man in a long coat, wearing a bear-shaped helmet and smoking a cigarette, slowly approached. "Oh? That kid's got good talent? Enough for you to give him special guidance?"
"It's you, Kuma. That boy's talent is indeed remarkable. At just sixteen, he's already grasped his own Sword Intent."
The newcomer was none other than the Revolutionary Army's intelligence officer, Terry Kuma—a high-ranking officer with significant authority.
"Oh? Sixteen? That's truly impressive."
Kuma sucked in a breath and quickly asked, "What kind of Sword Intent?"
There were many types of Sword Intent. In fact, every swordmaster could develop the most unique and suitable Sword Intent for themselves. There was no inherent superiority or inferiority—it all depended on the swordmaster.
"Thunder Power!"
Hatchan's lips curled slightly, his eyes filled with amusement.
"An elemental type?"
Kuma narrowed his eyes. "Elemental Sword Intent may surpass physical types in destructive power, but it supposedly faces obstacles when advancing to the level of a grand swordmaster."
As the Revolutionary Army's intelligence officer, Kuma even had some understanding of the grand swordmasters who stood at the pinnacle of the seas.
Legend had it that grand swordmasters grasped the true essence of the sword, capable of splitting mountains and parting seas with a single strike—a power that truly turned the ordinary into the miraculous.
Hatchan paused, then shook his head with a laugh. "By the time he reaches that point, his strength will likely surpass ours. No need to worry prematurely."
"Fair enough."
Kuma chuckled. "Come on, since you're here, I should at least treat you to a drink."
"Let's go! I've had my eye on that bottle of Iceflame Wine you brought from the North Blue for ages."
Hatchan's eyes lit up as he strode ahead.The forgotten Koala on the side couldn't help shaking her head at this scene. She stretched lazily and slowly walked toward a room.
Sleep, sleep.