Power requires a strong body to support it. Superhuman speed without the strength to break through an opponent's defenses is little more than a scratch, and stacking physique alone just turns you into a human sandbag.
More importantly—
In the world of pirates, the ones who reach the top of the pyramid are those who have perfected all aspects: physique, strength, and speed.
The Navy has Garp and Sengoku. Among pirates, there are monsters like Kaido and Whitebeard—powerhouses with balanced stats and no visible weaknesses.
That said, evenly distributing stats might eventually lead to a jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none scenario—someone who seems to have everything but excels in nothing.
But Gawain was confident. With the help of his subordinates… he could stack enough progress to forge a true hexagonal warrior!
"I choose balance," he said without hesitation.
The next instant—
Heat surged through Gawain's body like molten lava bursting from his heart, coursing through every organ and limb.
The searing pain from within made him instantly break into a sweat. He doubled over, flushed and trembling, nearly biting through his own gums.
"Nggh—!"
His entire body was transforming.
Every pore expelled pungent, grimy sweat—but before it could even drip, it was evaporated by the sheer heat radiating off him.
When it was finally over, Gawain collapsed onto the floor, completely exhausted and gasping for air.
"Haah…"
After several deep breaths, his senses returned. He looked down at his skin—now caked in a thin, cracked layer of grime. With a simple touch, it flaked off, revealing new, healthy skin underneath.
"This..."
"Is this... a kind of cleansing? Like refining the body and purging the marrow?"
Gawain gave a faint smile as he tested his body's responsiveness.
"Wait—!"
"My body feels so light!"
"It's like I've been living shackled in chains that were just ripped off."
Every part of his body felt free and brimming with vitality. Even the old, lingering injuries he had once suffered during sword practice in his youth had completely disappeared.
This body—it felt reborn, reverted to its most primal, unblemished state.
"Hold on... since I can check others' potential, can I also check my own?"
No sooner said than done.
Gawain reopened the badge's ability interface. As he focused on himself, a familiar light-blue screen materialized in front of him:
[Name – Gawain]
[Potential – Silver]
[Rating – Black Iron: A leader among trash. Still trash. But with untapped potential.]
"Silver potential?"
"My physique has reached Level 5, and I've awakened the Balance attribute. My body's undergone a fundamental transformation."
"Maybe this silver-level potential is a result of that shift... but I'll need more evidence to be sure."
"And if Silver is the limit of this body's potential, then... what determines that limit? Can it be improved further somehow?"
The questions kept swirling, but there were no immediate answers.
Gawain shifted his gaze to the rating and murmured:
"Black Iron leader, huh…"
"That means I'm right at the threshold. Just a bit more, and I can break into Bronze."
"But first—getting fully used to this new body comes before anything else."
With that thought in mind, he closed the system interface, stepped out of the captain's room, and made his way onto the deck.
It was deep into the night now. A cool sea breeze swept across the water.
The pirates who had once sprawled out on the deck had already retreated to the cabins to rest.
Gawain drew the longsword at his hip and began to rehearse the sword techniques etched into his memory.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Silver flashes shimmered across the deck. Each swing carried a sharp whistle, growing faster and faster.
What he had learned in his previous life was the orthodox style of knightly swordsmanship—no fancy flourishes, just calm, moderate, foundational forms.
But in Gawain's hands, the style had evolved.
It was now swift and deadly, stripped of all unnecessary embellishments. It was swordsmanship made purely for killing—relying on speed to deliver devastating, straight-line attacks.
And speed did more than just quicken his strikes—it enhanced his reflexes, his movement, his very awareness in battle.
In the past, Gawain's old body hadn't been able to keep up with his speed-based enhancements.
But now, with a physique at LV-5, things had changed.
His base stats had nearly doubled. His body could now withstand the pressure, especially with the bonus granted by the Balance attribute.
With strength, agility, and durability growing together, his body had entered a perfectly tuned state.
Every aspect of his combat ability could now be used to its fullest, with almost zero strain on his frame.
"My decision was right."
"Physique, agility, and strength—when balanced—complement each other. Only by evolving all three in sync can someone reach a state of perfection."
As his blade danced in the night, silver arcs cutting through the darkness, Gawain's eyes grew brighter with excitement.
He repeated each move with precision, his body soaking in the rhythm, his very cells humming with anticipation and joy.
Power surged within him, endlessly.
And then—
Swish!
With a final swing, a silver-white arc burst from Gawain's sword—a flying slash.
It tore through the warship's guardrail, then continued sailing across the sea for dozens of meters before finally fading into the distance.
"Flying slash?!"
Gawain stared at the cleanly sliced guardrail, unable to hide the excitement gleaming in his eyes.
"In other words... these typical sword techniques can be mastered naturally, even without specific system entries?"
He couldn't help but feel fortunate about his earlier choice.
"Good thing I picked Speed. The other two—Strength and Physique—can be trained the traditional way through hard work."
Silently grateful, Gawain suppressed his thoughts and continued refining his swordsmanship.
As he grew more accustomed to his enhanced body and its boosted stats, each swing of his sword became sharper, swifter, more precise. Before long, only the whistle of slicing air echoed across the deck—his figure too fast to follow with the naked eye.
The noise woke everyone aboard.
One by one, the pirates emerged from their quarters, eyes widening as they watched the flickering silver arcs and the flying sword energy carving the air.
"So fast!"
"That's… that's a flying slash! Only true swordmasters can unleash that!"
"I've only ever heard of it in legends!"
They exchanged glances—each seeing the same awe mirrored in the other's eyes.
There was no question. On this ship, only one man had such terrifying strength—Captain Gawain!
…
"Hah…"
Gawain exhaled a long breath, finally sheathing his sword. It was only then that he noticed the red sun rising over the horizon.
He had been training all night, his clothes soaked with sweat. Yet, despite the intensity, his body didn't feel the slightest fatigue. On the contrary, it felt more energized than ever—his strength endlessly welling up from deep within, like something dormant had been completely awakened.
At that moment, Gawain became convinced: his Silver-level potential had to be closely tied to the enhancement of his physique—and more importantly, the awakening of the Balance entry.
After all, a simple physique upgrade wouldn't cause such a fundamental transformation in his entire being.
"If Silver can take me this far... then what kind of monsters are at Gold, Legendary—or even Mythical level?"
Gawain murmured to himself, his hand subconsciously tightening around the sword's hilt.
"As long as I continue training, I will climb higher. One day, I'll stand among legends."
With that determination burning in his chest, he finally noticed the uncomfortable stickiness on his skin. The impurities expelled during his transformation had mixed with sweat, clinging to his body with a foul stench.
He turned, returned to the cabin, cleaned himself thoroughly, and changed into a fresh set of clothes.
When he stepped back onto the deck, a surprising scene awaited him.
The pirates were already lined up, practicing swordsmanship with unusual focus and discipline—even without Gawain issuing a single command.
The images of last night—his ghost-like speed, the stunning flying slash—had left a deep impression on them. Inspired, they were now driven by pure admiration and the desire to grow stronger.
Only the sounds of swords slicing the air filled the deck.
Gawain nodded in quiet approval. After correcting a few sloppy stances and motions, he left them to train on their own.
Night fell again. Training wrapped up for the day.
But just as Gawain reviewed his progress, an unexpected issue emerged—the amount of experience gained had significantly dropped.
There were over fifty crew members practicing on deck. Based on the previous ratios, this should have generated more than ten experience points in both Physique and Swordsmanship.
Yet today, both metrics barely reached the single digits.
"What's going on?"
Gawain frowned. He shifted his gaze to the resting pirates, and quietly opened the system panel.
[Name – Gabe]
[Potential – Black Iron]
[Rating – Black Iron: Swordsmanship apprentice. Potential exhausted.]
"Potential… exhausted?"
Gawain stared at the words, and slowly began to understand.
No one's potential is limitless. Time inevitably brings diminishing returns—no matter how hard one trains, there will come a day when improvement halts or even regresses.
A Black Iron potential meant a person could only grow to that level—nothing more.
For these low-level grunts on his ship, their growth plateaued faster than Gawain had anticipated.
And this—this was just the beginning.
From here on out, his training gains would only continue to shrink.
"We'll have to accelerate recruitment…"
His gaze turned cold and calculating.
He never saw himself as a saint. But at the same time, he wouldn't stoop so low as to prey on innocent civilians.
Besides, the weak had little to offer.
But some people were different.
"Then we'll steal from our enemies."