"You truly now possess the qualifications to stand on equal footing with me, Karl."
"Oh?"
"Really?"
"But there can only be one World's Greatest Swordsman."
The corners of Mihawk's lips slowly lifted.
"Then let us see…"
"Whether I defend the throne of the World's Greatest Swordsman…"
"Or whether you drag me down from it."
Karl grinned.
"So…"
"We decide victory and defeat…"
"And life and death as well?"
"Hahaha."
"With your ability, I can't kill you."
"But if I lose…"
"I'll die without regrets."
Karl slashed diagonally.
Yoru blocked the strike instantly.
Karl spoke while pushing against the blade.
"Do we really have to take it this seriously?"
"You're one of the Seven Warlords."
"I'm a Marine Hero."
"Technically, we're allies."
"Is there really a need to fight this desperately?"
Mihawk knocked Raven aside before immediately counterattacking toward Karl's shoulder.
Karl couldn't return Raven in time and had no choice but to draw Raiu to block the strike.
Although Holy Light transformation allowed him to ignore physical damage—
Mihawk's attacks were coated in Armament Haki with every slash.
And Haki was an especially troublesome thing.
After all…
it bypassed nonsense.
"I am not joking."
"From the day I decided to become a swordsman…"
"I already accepted this resolve."
"You are not a pure swordsman."
"You would not understand."
Mihawk had climbed atop countless corpses of swordsmen to sit upon the throne of the World's Greatest Swordsman.
Every swordsman who died beneath his blade possessed the same determination.
Truthfully—
when Mihawk first met Karl, he hadn't expected much from him.
Because swordsmen were lonely creatures.
To a swordsman—
their sword was their companion.
But Karl was different.
He was a Marine.
A Devil Fruit user.
He did not wield the sword for the sake of becoming the World's Greatest Swordsman.
Nor to stand atop the summit of swordsmanship overlooking all other swordsmen.
To Karl—
the sword was merely a tool.
A weapon.
A means to defeat enemies.
The fact that Karl had reached the same height as him…
could only be described as heaven kneeling down and begging him to eat.
Karl laughed lightly.
"That's true."
"I'm not a pure swordsman."
"But there is someone I think highly of."
"There."
Karl tilted his chin toward the distance.
"That green-haired moss head."
"I think very highly of him."
"He's pure."
Mihawk glanced over briefly before smiling faintly.
"So he is a swordsman as well."
"Unfortunately…"
"He's still far too immature."
Karl smirked.
"I already tested him a long time ago."
"He's quite good."
"You should personally test him someday."
"He won't disappoint you."
"Enough talking."
"Don't forget…"
"We're still fighting."
Mihawk's tone returned to calm indifference.
But his blade remained filled with murderous intent.
Baratie
Nami arrived with Usopp and looked around curiously at the unusually tense atmosphere.
"Those two fighting over there…"
"Are they famous or something?"
Simp Chef Sanji immediately glided over in his bizarre dance-like footsteps.
"That's right, Nami-saaaan!"
"I heard from that green-haired guy that they're Marine Hero White Raven Vice Admiral Karl and the World's Greatest Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk!"
"You absolutely must not get too close!"
"You could get hurt!"
"But…"
"Nami-saaaan, please rest assured!"
"I, your loyal knight, Sanji, shall forever remain by your side, my princess!"
Nami ignored him completely.
Her eyes widened as she stared at the distant battlefield.
She covered her mouth in shock.
White Raven Vice Admiral.
She knew that name far too well.
Wasn't that the very man she had wanted to see all this time?
"Karl…"
Sanji nodded dramatically.
"That's right!"
"That man every male in the world envies!"
"Hmph!"
"So what if he's handsome?!"
"Nami-saaaan, don't you agree?!"
But Nami didn't respond.
She hurried back to the Merry and grabbed a telescope.
"It really is him…"
"So many years have passed…"
"He barely changed at all…"
"No…"
"He seems a little taller."
Nami's observation was surprisingly accurate.
Karl now stood at over two meters tall.
To be exact—
2.03 meters.
Absolutely a giant by normal standards.
Seeing Nami's reaction, Sanji looked confused.
"Nami-saaaan…"
"Have you met him before?"
Nami nodded softly.
"Yes."
"I was only around ten years old back then."
"Vice Admiral Karl and Mr. Smoker were the ones who defeated the pirates occupying our village."
"I've always been grateful to them."
The moment Sanji heard that—
his entire body trembled.
He beat his chest dramatically in despair.
A beast!
An absolute beast!!!
Nami had only been ten years old back then!
How could that damned Karl possibly do such a thing?!
Meanwhile, Luffy tilted his head.
"Huh?"
"Nami, you met Karl when you were little too?"
"I met him before as well!"
"Lemme think…"
"I think it was seven years ago?"
Nami glanced at Luffy strangely.
What a coincidence.
Still, she said nothing and continued watching the battle between Karl and Mihawk.
But nobody expected the duel to last this long.
On the Vast Sea
Karl and Mihawk dashed across the waves as though the ocean itself barely existed beneath them.
Their swords collided continuously, releasing harsh metallic shrieks.
Mihawk's blade was fierce and swift.
Every strike carried deadly killing intent.
Karl, meanwhile, excelled in flexibility.
Every swing of his sword arrived unpredictably like a venomous serpent striking.
Though—
that mainly applied when he was defending and counterattacking.
When fighting head-on—
Karl was equally overbearing and violent.
As time passed—
their exchanges became faster.
Sharper.
Mihawk's attacks grew increasingly ferocious.
Karl's defense tightened further and further.
Then suddenly—
offense and defense switched places entirely.
The battle became impossible to follow with the naked eye.
Suddenly—
Karl noticed a flaw in Mihawk's defense.
He instantly seized the opportunity and slashed.
It was a strike that seemed to transcend space itself.
In the blink of an eye—
the blade had already reached Mihawk's shoulder.
CLANG!!!
A heavy metallic sound echoed.
Mihawk managed to block the attack—
but he was still forced several steps backward, losing his balance momentarily.
Yet Mihawk's expression remained unchanged.
He simply used the momentum to retreat across the sea before landing atop a shipwreck and stabilizing himself.
Mihawk was not someone who accepted losses quietly.
The instant he steadied himself—
he launched a counterattack and charged across the ocean toward Karl once more.
For two men whose technique and physique had both reached the absolute peak—
this battle was destined not to end quickly.
But that also meant—
Mihawk's ending had already been decided.
Because in this world—
there was no one qualified to discuss "endurance" with Karl.
The Next Day
The setting sun gradually descended toward the horizon.
Golden light spread across the ocean.
The sea shimmered brilliantly beneath the evening glow as if welcoming the arrival of dusk itself.
Karl and Mihawk stood on opposite sides of the "sun sinking into the sea," swords in hand.
But the condition of the two men differed drastically.
Karl's breathing remained perfectly steady.
Not a single wound existed on his body.
Only his clothes had been shredded into ragged strips.
Meanwhile—
Mihawk's breathing had become rough and heavy.
Large beads of sweat slid down his face.
His body was covered in wounds.
The sea beneath his feet had long since turned crimson with blood.
This battle…
was about to end.
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