White-White Sea, Heaven’s Gate.
The moment Mihawk finally set foot on land, he drew Yoru from his back.
“Beelzebub, draw your sword.”
Perhaps because the nineteen-year-old Mihawk had not yet reached the peak as the World’s Greatest Swordsman, Seven was spared the humiliation of being fought with a tiny knife.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
The two instantly exchanged three slashes as a warm-up.
Feeling the increasing force behind Seven’s blows, Mihawk offered a pointer.
“A sword with only strength behind it has no substance.”
After their brief exchange, Mihawk became even more curious about the unsharpened blade in Seven’s hand, its body glowing with purple light.
In terms of hardness alone, it was already no weaker than Yoru, one of the Twelve Supreme Grade Blades.
A Supreme Grade Blade that had never appeared before?
Then Seven wrapped both red-black Conqueror’s Haki and crackling lightning around the blade.
The sight made the corner of Mihawk’s eye twitch, and his hawk-like gaze grew even sharper.
“Conqueror’s Haki infusion?
What a monster.”
In his years at sea, Mihawk had challenged many masters of the sword in pursuit of the path of swordsmanship, yet he had never encountered anything like this.
Seven had neither Armament Haki nor Observation Haki, yet he had somehow advanced his use of Conqueror’s Haki to the level of infusion.
This could no longer be called merely being lopsided.
What kind of spirit had created such a monster?
No wonder he had become a member of the Pirate King’s crew.
No wonder he had reached the final island and found the great treasure.
The two swung their swords at the same time, unleashing flying slashes.
One sword aura was purple, the other green.
However, compared to Mihawk’s green sword aura, which could split the sea of clouds, Seven’s purple sword aura looked rather small.
Its power, however, was condensed and fierce.
After all, it was infused with Conqueror’s Haki and further strengthened by Musou Isshin’s one-hundred-percent Haki amplification.
Since Seven had not awakened Armament Haki or Observation Haki, he could only rely on the electromagnetic waves in the air to predict Mihawk’s moves.
At the same time, he could not use Armament Haki to increase his attack or defense.
In short, thanks to Conqueror’s Haki infusion and his Devil Fruit ability, Seven’s offensive power had already entered the first-class tier of the sea.
As for defense… the less said, the better.
Unless he could take Conqueror’s Haki to an even higher level: coating his body with it.
Before Seven transmigrated, it seemed that in the world of One Piece, only Rocks, a true man among men, had ever used Conqueror’s Haki as body protection.
Bang!
After being sent flying dozens of meters by Mihawk, Seven wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
“As expected, battle really is the best training.”
This fight with Mihawk not only allowed him to fully digest the Swordsman Training Experience imprinted in his mind, even the newly obtained Musou no Hitotachi Training Experience began to show signs of merging with him.
His swordsmanship and the Rumble-Rumble Fruit also began to produce subtle chemical reactions.
For example, when he swung his sword and unleashed a flying slash, streaks of Thunder Dragons followed behind the sword aura.
When their blades clashed, Seven used electric currents to stimulate his body, causing his adrenaline to surge and significantly improving his strength and reaction speed.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
The two fought from night until day, neither seeming to know the meaning of fatigue.
Mihawk: If I don’t call out the name, it’s just a basic attack.
Seven: Same here!
In the end, however, Seven’s foundation was still lacking.
After eight hours of clashing, he was the first to collapse onto the ground, gasping for breath.
In this battle of great swordsman versus swordsman, Mihawk had held back heavily.
The two of them were four years apart in age.
Seven’s innate physique was ordinary, he had often gone hungry as a child, and during his six years with the Roger Pirates, what he learned had been scattered across many fields.
Getting this far was already extremely difficult.
Still, with Innate Monstrous Strength and Bottomless Appetite, or rather, with the system, what Seven lacked was time to develop.
Given enough time, he could overturn the world.
Mihawk sheathed Yoru and reached out to pull Seven up.
“Not bad.
You’ve improved.”
Perhaps in five years, or two, this man would become a qualified opponent.
Seven had just been about to continue deepening his bond with Mihawk when an ill-timed voice suddenly rang out.
“Captain, someone’s coming.”
A group of warriors emerged from the forest.
The City of Gold had originally been part of Jaya.
Four hundred years ago, it had been blasted up to the White-White Sea by a massive Knock Up Stream.
When the Sky Islanders discovered this land, they began a war against the native Shandia over control of it, a war that had lasted four centuries.
The natives with small wings on their backs who now appeared before Seven were the Shandia.
One of them, who looked like a leader, asked tentatively, “Seven?”
An acquaintance?
Seven studied the man who had spoken, and a scene from two years ago surfaced in his mind.
“Calpa?
Long time no see.”
Calpa was a descendant of the great Shandia warrior from four hundred years ago, Kalgara.
Two years ago, the Roger Pirates had come to Skypiea and found the Poneglyph engraved with information about the Ancient Weapon Poseidon.
They had also met the Shandia warrior Calpa and Gan Fall, the sixth God of Skypiea.
After a warm hug, Calpa asked, “Did you find the great treasure?
What about Captain Roger and the others?
Why did you come alone?”
Seven selectively gave a brief account of what had happened after they left Skypiea.
“I never thought a man like Captain Roger would choose to turn himself in.”
“We all respected the captain’s choice.
What about you?
Are you still fighting Gan Fall’s people all the time?”
Calpa shook his head.
“Things have been quiet for a while lately.
Come on, let’s go back and hold a banquet.”
“Now that you mention it, I’m hungry again.”
In the world of One Piece, holding a banquet was like eating dumplings during festivals in northern China in Seven’s previous life.
Feeling good?
Let’s have a banquet.
Feeling bad?
On the journey to find the great treasure with the Roger Pirates, Seven had made quite a few friends.
The main reason he was remembered among so many crew members was his excellent cooking.
Making new friends called for a banquet, and a banquet naturally required good food and fine wine.
As the Roger Pirates’ chef, Seven had conquered not only the crew with his food and wine, but friends from all over as well.
When they passed the place where the giant golden pillar had stood, Seven deliberately acted shocked.
“Where’s that pillar?!”
Calpa looked gloomy.
“Don’t mention it.
It was stolen just last night.”
“What?!”
Seven exaggeratedly gestured with both hands.
“A golden pillar that huge?
How did anyone move it?”
“Who knows?”
Calpa continued complaining.
“Last night, we mysteriously fainted several times.
It must have been stolen around then.”
Hearing that, Mihawk quietly glanced at Seven, feeling that things were not so simple.
This guy had come up here last night.
The giant golden pillar had been stolen last night.
The truth was obvious.
However, judging from the traces left on the ground, the so-called giant golden pillar really had been enormous.
How had Seven stolen it?
And where had he put it?
Mihawk was becoming more and more interested in Seven, this man of mysteries.
Cloud Hidden Village was the settlement the Shandia had built on island clouds after their homeland was seized by the God of Skypiea four hundred years ago.
It still retained its primitive tribal tents, totems, and customs.
At the grand banquet, Seven returned to his original profession and once again conquered the Shandia with his cooking.
“Seven, we finally get to eat your food again.”
For a long time after the Roger Pirates left Skypiea, the Shandia who had been lucky enough to attend that banquet had looked at their own cooks with displeasure.
They were all cooks, yet someone else’s food left people endlessly savoring the memory, while theirs was practically a waste of ingredients.
“Seven, why did you come this time?”
Seven put down his wine cup.
“I’m planning to talk to Gan Fall and end the war between your two peoples.
You’re all descendants of the moon people.
What’s the point of killing each other?”
A Shandia warrior immediately shouted, “Impossible!
Absolutely impossible!
We will never worship that man as God!”
Seven smiled calmly.
“I know.
In that case…”
“How about I become your God instead?”
…