Chapter 60

South Sea, nameless deserted island.

Since reuniting at the Twin Serpent Islands of the West Sea, Seven, Mihawk, and Tenghu had successively rushed to Ohara to confront the Marine’s Holy Wrath fleet.

They then traveled nonstop from the West Sea to the Solbe Kingdom to invite Bear and Jin Ni aboard.

Throughout this time, they had never formally dueled in swordsmanship.

Not only was Mihawk’s black blade, Yoru, craving a fight, but Seven also wanted to see if a pure sword duel still held any gap between them.

When passing the deserted island, both drew their blades.

On the deck of the East Sea Emperor far away, the trio of Jin Ni, Bear, and Robin, each holding a telescope, provided real-time broadcast for Tenghu.

“The captain drew his sword, the vice-captain drew his too.”

“But they haven’t moved yet.”

On the rocky shore of the island, the salty sea wind stirred their robes; Seven’s white hair danced wildly in the wind.

“Mihawk, you’re well-educated—find some time to come up with names for my sword techniques.”

Plain A’s prestige is undeniably high, but not shouting it out feels incomplete; shouting it out may be cringey and otaku, but damn, it’s cool.

The King of the Spiky Hair’s cry of “Excalibur” alone already wins in sheer presence.

What about “Zanmato,” “Unbuckle Your Pants,” “Spicy Heaven Forest,” “Moving Toilet,” “Pull Down Pants and Grope!”

Firewash!!!

Unlike Seven and Mihawk, who slashed at each other for three days straight and still couldn’t come up with a single technique name.

If Zoro hadn’t been born yet, Seven would’ve gone straight to Frost Moon Village in the East Sea to kidnap him—no need to do anything else, just help name the techniques.

Mihawk gave a slight nod: “Alright.”

The sword pressure between them rose steadily, even the sea wind was severed by invisible blade qi.

Zzzm～ Zzzm～

Both unleashed crescent-shaped flying slashes that surged forward; Mihawk’s eyes narrowed slightly as Yoru became a streak of dark light, slicing through the incoming shockwaves.

Seven’s left hand ignited roaring flames, absorbing the flying slash without flinching.

Before his Lunarian bloodline transformation, Seven’s greatest fear was—becoming a firestick.

The truth proved half his worry unnecessary: the flames could ignite anywhere on his body—either as a firestick or as flame wings.

Seeing Seven block the flying slash with his bare body, without using Armament Haki, Mihawk’s eyelid twitched twice.

“You’re truly a monster.”

“Mihawk, I’m going to speed up!”

The instant the flames on his left hand vanished, Seven left behind a trail of afterimages, wielding Mengxiang Yixin as if teleporting toward Mihawk.

Mihawk raised his blade to block.

Clang～

The mere shockwave from the clash of Mengxiang Yixin and Yoru instantly whipped the sails of the East Sea Emperor and violently shook its hull.

Bear reacted swiftly, shielding Jin Ni and Robin from the shockwave: “You two sit on my shoulders.”

Placing Jin Ni and Robin on his shoulders, Bear extended one hand, forming a bubble shaped like a bear’s paw before him.

On the distant island, purple and green flying slash shockwaves ravaged the surrounding seas; Tenghu had no choice but to draw his blade, Gambler’s Firewire, severing every residual wave heading for the ship.

“Bear, the captain and vice-captain are incredibly strong.”

This level of battle already carries a fraction of the intensity of the God Valley clash from memory.

“Yes,” Bear sighed.

Pure swordsmanship alone can cause destruction rivaling powerful Devil Fruits; if the captain added Haki and his fruit ability, the scene would be absolutely breathtaking.

This isn’t a swordsman—it’s a walking natural disaster. No wonder he’s been certified by the Marine’s Holy Wrath.

Now, I can finally sleep peacefully.

As a Baccania-blood hybrid, Bear endured countless hardships; for years, the World Government’s shadow loomed over him—he refused Jin Ni’s proposal out of fear she’d be dragged down by his identity.

Now, he no longer needs to fear.

“I need to work harder.”

Amidst the residual waves of Seven and Mihawk’s battle, the island’s surface was carved with countless neat, parallel trenches.

For Mihawk, who aspires to become the world’s greatest swordsman, these two years of challenging swordmasters had greatly advanced his skill.

He had assumed Seven becoming a great swordsman within two years was already the limit.

He never imagined a great swordsman wasn’t the limit.

If this pace continued, he might not reach the title of world’s greatest swordsman before the other caught up.

The chance of overtaking him, however, was slim.

Lately, Seven spent most of his time developing his fruit ability, even during meetings he’d twist and mold lightning into various shapes.

Mihawk silently resolved: from today onward, quit iced black tea, double his training, and duel Barzab Seven in swordsmanship every three days.

Boom～ Mihawk was blasted dozens of meters away.

“Mihawk, don’t get distracted.”

Mihawk rose, a rare smile curling at his lips: “Barzab, I’m going serious now.”

If earlier Mihawk had been playing with a tiger, now he was a mad beast tearing into his foe—his assault grew fiercer.

The Seven before him was no longer the swordsman from two years ago whom he had to hold back.

Mihawk resolved to give everything—and Seven didn’t stop him; instead, his eyes burned with the heat of a man who’d longed for this.

The cultivation of Mujo Ito demanded precisely this kind of unrestrained, exhilarating duel.

Setting aside Conqueror’s Haki and his fruit ability, on this uninhabited island with no fear of exposing his flame power, Seven unleashed everything without reservation.

The East Sea Emperor had sailed far enough away to avoid being caught in their battle’s shockwaves.

On the island, the two figures clashed repeatedly, then exchanged devastating blade qi from afar, never showing signs of fatigue.

They had paused briefly, eaten and drunk their fill, then resumed fighting, determined to prove whose Plain A was stronger.

After two full days and nights of relentless combat, they slammed into each other once more, then leapt apart.

Seven grinned.

“Mihawk, in swordsmanship, no one is better than you—I, Barzab, declare you the strongest.”

Mihawk panted: “You’re not bad either.”

Seven threw his head back and laughed wildly: “Mihawk, your stamina’s giving out, isn’t it?”

Once, Seven himself had faced this exact frustration—having trained to his absolute limit, yet his body simply couldn’t keep up.

There was nothing to be done about it.

Everyone is born with different physical potential—even siblings from the same parents vary in strength and frailty.

Since unlocking his system and acquiring Gluttony, Natural Strength, Steel Balloon, and Lunarian bloodline, Seven had no weaknesses left in any aspect.

Even a warrior as formidable as Mihawk couldn’t outlast the current Seven.

Mihawk’s battle spirit surged: “Fight!”

Seven gripped his blade: “As you wish!”

…

South Sea.

On the Doghead Warship, Marine Vice Admiral Garp listened to his subordinate Bogart’s report.

Since secretly calling his son Monkey D. Dragon to learn the situation, Garp had stopped asking why Dragon came to the Solbe Kingdom.

The Golden Lion escaped from the underwater prison of Impel Down by cutting off both his legs. Marshal Sakazuki demands we return to Marineford as soon as possible—and—

“We’ve located the Morning Star Pirates.”

The sea wind stirred Garp’s black hair: “Ignore Sakazuki. Set course for them.”