The pressure gradually dispersed.
Silence returned to the sea.
Moonlight shimmered across the dark water, breaking into silver fragments with each gentle wave.
Alone at the end of the dock, Ian stood motionless, gazing out toward the endless horizon.
The Assassin Seven template had given him far more than a collection of sword techniques.
It had given him a path.
A philosophy.
A deeper understanding of the blade itself.
More importantly, it had shown him just how vast the road ahead remained.
Swordsmanship Level 5 was already impressive by East Blue standards.
But in this world?
It was only the beginning.
The seas were filled with monsters whose names had become legends.
Dracule Mihawk.
The World’s Greatest Swordsman.
The man who stood at the absolute peak of the sword.
Fujitora.
A Marine Admiral whose blade and power could reshape the battlefield itself.
Red-Haired Shanks.
A pirate whose sword could shake the world.
And somewhere farther down the road—
Roronoa Zoro.
The stubborn green-haired brat currently sleeping on the beach.
One day, that boy would stand among those giants.
Ian had never doubted it.
Which meant there was only one way forward.
Fight stronger opponents.
The answer was simple.
A blade could only be sharpened through resistance.
And that line of thought inevitably led him back to a single person.
Koushirou.
The hidden master of Shimotsuki Village.
The more Ian learned about him, the more unavoidable their meeting felt.
For the sake of the check-in.
For his own growth.
And simply for the pleasure of crossing blades with a true swordsman.
As he considered the future, a faint movement caught his attention.
Someone had woken up.
Not far away, Zoro pushed himself upright from the sand.
Then froze.
His body stiffened instantly.
The remnants of Ian’s sword intent still lingered in the air.
Faint.
Almost imperceptible.
Yet impossible to ignore.
Zoro swallowed unconsciously.
That feeling…
It was the same sensation he’d experienced during their first meeting.
An invisible sharpness.
As if an unsheathed blade hung somewhere nearby, waiting silently in the darkness.
His fingers tightened around the handle of his wooden sword.
“So that’s sword intent…”
The words escaped in a whisper.
Ian hadn’t drawn a weapon.
He hadn’t moved.
Yet merely standing there, he felt like a sword.
It was terrifying.
And strangely fascinating.
Almost immediately, Ian noticed the boy staring.
The lingering pressure vanished.
The oppressive sharpness disappeared so completely that it felt as though it had never existed at all.
Ian glanced over his shoulder.
“You’re awake.”
Zoro nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Then Ian pointed toward the shoreline.
“Finish your laps.”
“Right!”
The response came instantly.
No complaints.
No bargaining.
No attempt to negotiate.
Zoro simply turned and started running.
Ian couldn’t help smiling.
The kid was finally developing the right mindset.
Several laps later, Zoro returned.
Sweat soaked his shirt.
His breathing was heavy.
His legs trembled slightly from exhaustion.
But he remained standing.
“I’m done.”
“Good.”
Ian studied him for a moment.
Then rose from the dock.
“Show me your slash.”
Zoro blinked.
“My slash?”
“Your basic strike.”
Understanding immediately lit up the boy’s eyes.
Finally.
Actual swordsmanship training.
Without hesitation, he grabbed his wooden sword and stepped into position.
A deep breath.
His stance settled.
His focus sharpened.
Then he swung.
Whoosh!
The wooden blade cut through the air with impressive speed.
The moment he finished, Zoro looked over expectantly.
Clearly pleased with himself.
Ian shook his head.
The smile vanished from the boy’s face.
“What?”
“Wrong.”
Zoro stared.
“Wrong?”
“Very.”
That was not the response he’d been expecting.
His brows furrowed.
“What’s wrong with it?”
Ian folded his arms.
“Everything.”
The boy looked genuinely offended.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
Ian pointed at the wooden sword.
“You just used one hundred percent of your strength.”
“Of course I did.”
“Why?”
Zoro frowned.
“Because stronger attacks are better.”
Ian let out a quiet sigh.
The confidence of children really was something.
“What happens if you miss?”
The question caught him off guard.
Zoro opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Because he didn’t know.
Ian continued.
“What happens if your opponent blocks it?”
Silence.
“What happens if they’re still standing afterward?”
More silence.
Slowly, realization began to dawn on the boy’s face.
Ian nodded.
“Exactly.”
For the first time, Zoro was genuinely thinking about the problem.
“Your attack is powerful.
That’s a good thing.”
He picked up a stick from the sand.
“But once you’ve committed everything to that swing, what comes next?”
Ian slashed forward.
One strike.
Then another.
Then another.
The motions flowed naturally into one another.
Smooth.
Controlled.
Connected.
The stick spun lightly through his fingers before settling once more.
“A fight doesn’t end after a single attack.”
“A swordsman needs options.”
He demonstrated another series of strikes.
“Control.”
Another.
“Adaptability.”
Then he lowered the stick and pointed it toward Zoro.
“And most importantly…”
The tip stopped at the boy’s chest.
“You need to understand your own strength.”
The beach grew quiet.
Only the rhythm of the waves remained.
“From now on, use seventy percent of your power when you attack.”
Zoro frowned immediately.
“Only seventy?”
“Only seventy.”
“Why?”
Ian smiled.
“Because the other thirty stays in reserve.”
The boy stared blankly.
Ian continued.
“That reserve lets you adjust.”
“It lets you recover.”
“It lets you counter.”
“It lets you attack again.”
He tapped the stick lightly against his shoulder.
“You’re learning how to swing a sword.”
His gaze sharpened.
“I’m teaching you how to fight.”
The difference between those two things was enormous.
Zoro fell silent.
A long moment passed.
Then he slowly nodded.
“…I think I get it.”
Not completely.
But enough to start.
Determination returned to his eyes.
He raised his wooden sword once more.
This time, he swung carefully.
Deliberately.
Trying to hold something back.
The result was immediate.
And awful.
His muscles resisted.
His instincts resisted.
Every part of him wanted to unleash the strike at full power.
Seventy percent.
Not one hundred.
The gap sounded small.
In practice, it felt enormous.
“Hrrgh!”
The sword stopped halfway.
Then lurched awkwardly forward.
The movement looked completely unnatural.
Ian laughed.
Zoro shot him an irritated glare.
“It’s hard!”
“Good.”
“How is that good?”
“If it were easy, everyone would be a master.”
Zoro clicked his tongue.
Annoying.
But impossible to argue with.
So he tried again.
And again.
And again.
Each swing improved slightly.
The control became cleaner.
The motion became smoother.
Little by little, progress accumulated.
Ian watched quietly.
Zoro’s greatest strength had never been talent.
It wasn’t even determination.
It was persistence.
Most people became frustrated when they failed.
Most people eventually quit.
Zoro simply kept going.
The same way he always would.
As a child in Shimotsuki Village.
As a pirate sailing the Grand Line.
As the swordsman who would one day challenge the strongest in the world.
“Keep practicing.”
Ian turned toward the harbor.
Zoro blinked.
“That’s it?”
“For tonight.”
“You’re leaving?”
Ian waved without looking back.
“You’ll be busy for the next few hours.”
Zoro’s eyes widened.
“Hours?”
“You want to become the World’s Greatest Swordsman, don’t you?”
Ian glanced over his shoulder with a grin.
“Did you think that was going to happen in a week?”
The boy immediately fell silent.
Because, unfortunately, that made sense.
Again.
Chuckling to himself, Ian headed back toward his ship.
The moon had climbed high into the night sky.
The village was quiet.
Peaceful.
Back inside his cabin, he lit a lantern and opened his journal.
The familiar pages awaited another entry.
Third Day in Shimotsuki Village.
The number of unfamiliar faces in the village continues to increase.
Combined with Dragon’s appearance, I’m becoming increasingly certain that Revolutionary Army operatives are active nearby.
Had lunch with the village chief today.
Learned more about Koushirou’s reputation.
Challenging him may prove more difficult than expected.
Continued my own swordsmanship training and further explored the Assassin Seven template.
Progress remains steady.
Spent some time guiding Zoro.
The kid learns surprisingly fast whenever he actually listens.
Check-In Progress has reached 40%.
Everything is proceeding nicely.
Ian closed the journal.
Satisfied.
Outside, faint sounds drifted in from the distant shoreline.
Whoosh.
A wooden sword cutting through the air.
Then again.
And again.
Relentless.
Persistent.
A green-haired boy chasing an impossible dream beneath the moonlight.
Ian smiled.
Then lowered the lantern flame.
“Good night, Zoro.”
Darkness filled the cabin.
Beyond the harbor, waves rolled gently against the hull.
And beneath the moonlit sky of Shimotsuki Village, a future legend continued training long after the rest of the world had gone to sleep.