What Koshiro said was true—even among geniuses, there are tiers. Though Dunn had only been at the Isshin Dojo for a month, the raw talent he displayed had already left the master in awe.
"Finding a swordsmanship that suits me?" Dunn murmured. An image of a flickering flame surfaced in his mind.
The power of the Flame-Flame Fruit was the strongest force he currently possessed, so his thoughts naturally drifted toward fire.
He thought of a certain lean, elderly man from his memories, a figure surrounded by a scorching aura—someone whose flames could rival the sun, and whose full power, if unleashed for too long, could incinerate an entire world.
Dunn had never slacked on developing his fruit. He was constantly trying to combine his modern knowledge with this world's logic to create powerful techniques.
Maybe I can try that... Dunn's eyes lit up. No man could resist a technique that was both devastatingly powerful and incredibly cool.
"It seems you already have an idea," Koshiro noted with a smile, observing Dunn's expression. "However, before that, I will impart to you the fundamental philosophy of swordsmanship. This is my personal understanding of the blade; take it as a reference."
"No problem," Dunn replied. "I do have an idea, but the difficulty will be high. Still, I'm willing to put in the effort to try."
Dunn felt no rush. He was prepared to invest the necessary time.
"The basic training of the sword cannot be neglected," Koshiro added. "From now on, you will train on your own in the mornings. In the afternoons, I will personally guide you in Haki and swordsmanship."
Koshiro then stood up and walked to a section of the wall. With a light tug, the wall slid aside to reveal rows upon rows of sword racks. "Pick a blade. Though I don't usually recommend live steel for beginners, you are an exception."
Dunn didn't stand on ceremony. He stood up to browse the collection. Every blade looked exquisitely crafted. He knew that Koshiro's father, Shimotsuki Kozaburo, was a legendary blacksmith from Wano Country—the man who had forged Enma, one of the 21 Great Grade Swords.
Dunn picked up several swords before his hand finally settled on a blade that was longer, wider, and significantly heavier than the rest. Dunn stood over six feet tall, yet this sword was nearly as long as he was. Koshiro looked surprised at the choice of such an unusually large weapon but said nothing.
As the hidden door slid shut, the two sat down again. Koshiro glanced at the longsword resting by Dunn's side with a touch of nostalgia.
"These were forged by my father years ago, though he hasn't picked up a hammer in a long time. You should give it a name. Perhaps, one day, it will become a true Black Blade and find fame across the seas."
"A Black Blade?" Dunn asked. He knew what they were—swords "tempered" by their users, a process closely linked to Haki.
"A Black Blade is a specialized state of a sword," Koshiro explained, his eyes locking onto Dunn's. "Through countless battles and the repeated infusion of Armament Haki, the very nature of the steel changes. It becomes harder, virtually indestructible."
Koshiro seemed to grow more animated. "Currently, the man who holds the title of World's Greatest Swordsman, Hawkeye Mihawk, carries Yoru—which is a Black Blade."
He expected a reaction, but Dunn's expression didn't flicker at the mention of the legendary Mihawk or his sword.
"Do you not wish to become the world's strongest swordsman?" Koshiro asked, amused.
"I don't have that ambition right now," Dunn shook his head. "My goal has always been simply to live a stable life in this world. If that Great Swordsman happens to stand in the way of my peace later on... well, then maybe the title will have to change hands."
Hearing Dunn speak so calmly about replacing the world's strongest, Koshiro burst into laughter. "Hahaha! Good! I hope to see that day. After all, I can say I gave you some pointers. I'd share in the glory."
"I'm not even a 'Swordsman' yet, so isn't it a bit early for us to be talking about this?" Dunn said, somewhat speechless.
"I believe you have the talent for it. Anyway, I want to learn Observation Haki first."
"Very well." Koshiro didn't refuse, though he wondered why Dunn prioritized Observation.
"Then I'll take my leave." Dunn stood up, grabbed his new sword, and exited.
Koshiro watched him go. A moment later, a short, elderly man slowly stepped out from the shadows.
"He knew I was here," the old man said, sitting in the spot Dunn had just vacated and taking a puff from his tobacco pipe. "He might have already awakened Observation Haki, even if he can't control it properly yet."
"What do you think of him, Father?"
"If you can't see through him, this old man certainly can't," Kozaburo shook his head. While he was a master smith and a decent swordsman, his combat skill was inferior to his son's. "But maybe he really can forge a Black Blade. I didn't expect him to pick that one."
Kozaburo thought of the sword Dunn had taken. "That blade is no worse than a Great Grade Sword, but when I forged it, my strength was failing. It's a bit rough, and it's incredibly heavy."
The sword Dunn had chosen was over ten times heavier than a standard blade.
"His physical gifts are unique," Koshiro replied. "That weight is nothing to him." He knew Dunn's strength was directly proportional to his massive appetite.
"Focus on teaching him," Kozaburo said, standing up to leave. He paused after a few steps, his aged eyes looking back at his son. "And don't forget Zoro." He paused, a flicker of memory in his eyes. "Zoro's talent inherits the blood of his grandfather and father, and perhaps even the legendary 'Sword Saint' Ryuma. Teach him well."
"I understand."
Being from Wano, Koshiro believed deeply in the power of bloodlines. If Zoro was descended from great masters, he undoubtedly possessed the potential to match them.
Dunn had indeed sensed someone nearby during the conversation, but he didn't pry. He had work to do.
Back in his room, he drew the sword. It had a dull, matte luster. Wave-like patterns covered the entire length of the blade, which was much thicker than average, yet the edge remained terrifyingly sharp.
Holding the hilt and leveling the sword before his chest, a spark of fire ignited in Dunn's hand. It spread along the metal, instantly cloaking the blade in flames. However, for now, the fire was just a surface-level display.
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