The Strongest Promise, Made at Seventeen

"This sword was modeled after Shusui, the legendary sword of Wano Country."

"It's extremely durable. Its high density also makes it heavier than other swords of the same size."

He paused, then continued, "Nurture it with your Haki every day. Perhaps it will become a black blade at your side someday."

"A black blade?"

Kuta put on a suitably puzzled expression. Of course, he knew what a black blade was.

"The greatest quality of a black blade is its durability. A swordsman can temper his sword into a black blade with his own Haki."

"Shusui is a black blade."

"Don't worry, Master! I'll make its name known across the world."

Kuta gazed at the sword in his hands, liking it more with every passing moment.

"Good!"

"It doesn't have a name yet. Why don't you give it one?" Koshiro said with a smile.

Kuta raised the sword above his head. In the sunlight, a blue-green sheen spread across its blade.

"I'll call it Zankū!"

"Zankū?"

Koshiro looked at Kuta in surprise.

"The kū stands for space—as in cutting through space."

Kuta shouted excitedly.

"I hope I'll be able to cut through space someday!"

Seventeen that year: a promise to be the strongest

Evening fell.

Cool moonlight bathed the world.

Nearly all the lights in Shimotsuki Village had gone out.

Only in the dojo halfway up the mountain did the sound of bamboo swords striking practice targets still ring out.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Aboard the Dragon-Head Ship.

A light breeze swept past.

A dark figure appeared in the shadows on deck.

Ivankov noticed the movement and complained to the figure, "You sure took your time, Dragon. How long were you planning to keep me waiting?"

"Sorry."

Dragon emerged from the shadows with a child in his arms.

Only when he drew closer and Ivankov could see what he was carrying did Ivankov ask in confusion, "Who's that in your arms?"

Hearing the commotion, the others aboard gathered around. The sight of the child startled them.

"Those injuries are terrible!"

"They really are!"

"How cruel. Looks like a cannonball did this!"

"We need to treat him right away."

One of them carefully took the child from Dragon's arms and hurried toward the ship's infirmary.

Everyone quickly cleared a path.

After watching the man carry the child below deck, Ivankov turned to Dragon. "Honestly, where have you been wandering off to?"

Dragon turned around and answered calmly, "I went to see the Celestial Dragons' celebration."

"Why did you sneak off to a place like that on your own without telling me?"

Ivankov was shocked.

"You would have drawn too much attention."

Dragon slowly walked to the railing and gazed at the quiet village.

"Uh...!"

"My face, my face..."

Ivankov frantically felt his own face.

Dragon turned and called out to everyone on deck, "We need to gather our forces immediately. What about provisions?"

"The village dojo gave us some provisions," Yifu replied, stepping forward.

"Good."

Dragon turned to look at the distant dojo halfway up the mountain. After a brief pause, his gaze suddenly shifted to the bow.

At some point, a little boy had appeared atop the dragon figurehead.

The boy wore a moon-white robe with a long sword at his waist. His silvery-white hair shone softly in the moonlight.

He stood there quietly, traces of starlight lingering in his bright azure eyes amid a silver haze.

Staring into those eyes, more captivating than the starry sky, Dragon spoke in a low voice.

"Who are you?"

"What brings you here?"

Kuta had fixed his attention on Dragon the moment he arrived.

Even shrouded in a dark green coat, Dragon was instantly recognizable to him.

An aura as vast as the sea was impossible to hide.

When Dragon looked up at him, Kuta could see the red geometric tattoo on the left side of his face and the faint stubble on his chin.

On closer inspection, Dragon actually had no eyebrows.

Kuta's lips curved into a playful smile. "Nothing much. I just came to see my friends off."

Someone this powerful was beyond his ability to fight right now. He could not withstand even a single blow.

Reality was not a manga, after all. With a large enough gap in strength, one blow really could end a fight. Even if he could not be hurt, there was no need to try.

He paid Dragon little further attention and looked at Ivankov instead.

"Hey, little Ivan! Planning to leave without saying goodbye?"

Meeting Kuta's gaze, Ivankov asked, touched, "Little Kuta, did you come here just to see us off?"

"Of course!"

"Aren't we friends?"

Kuta stared at Ivankov and shouted, "Friends shouldn't leave without saying goodbye, you jerk!"

"I'm sorry."

Ivankov bowed to Kuta in apology.

"My friends! I wish you smooth sailing. This flower of friendship will bring us together again someday."

By the time Ivankov straightened, only Kuta's softly spoken blessing lingered. He

was so touched that tears streamed down his face.

Dragon stood to one side, completely bewildered.

Only after Inazuma came over and explained what had happened that day did he understand.

A remarkable boy who could control space.

Then he turned and shouted to the crew, "Prepare to set sail! We're returning to Baltigo."

"Yes!"

The ship bustled with activity.

On the roof of the dojo's Sword Hall.

Kuta had been standing there for a while.

He gazed out at the sea, lost in thought.

The great ship beyond the harbor had already sailed toward its destination beneath the moonlight.

Only a tiny black dot remained on the distant horizon.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it vanished entirely, as though it had never been there.

But Ivankov's sobs still drifted faintly across the water, proof that it had not been a dream.

Kuta had not planned to go at first, but in the end, he could not resist going over for a look.

"Monkey D. Dragon."

The leader of the Revolutionary Army, the World Government's greatest enemy, and one of the most powerful fighters in the world.

The gap between them was rather large.

He shook his head hard.

So what if he's Dragon? So what if he stands at the pinnacle of the world?

He had every confidence that he would surpass him.

Lifting his head to gaze at the sea, starlight swirling in his eyes, he thought, Now that I've seen the pinnacle, I'll work my way toward it. Isn't that the very romance of the Pirate King's world?

Time flew, and five years passed in the blink of an eye.

The clash of weapons suddenly rang out in the woods on the mountain behind the dojo.

Clang, clang, clang...!!

Up close, all that could be seen were two streaks of white light crossing and colliding in a clearing.

Now sixteen, Kuina had grown into a graceful young woman. Her long hair was tied back in a ponytail with a red ribbon, and she wore a fitted white training outfit.

Holding her sword above her head with both hands, she slashed swiftly downward. A silver-white slash shot toward Zoro.

Zoro was bare-chested, his lean, powerful muscles exposed, with a green bandanna wrapped around his head.

He held a long sword in each hand and a third between his teeth. It seemed he had indeed taken up the Three-Sword Style.

He swung all three swords at the incoming slash.

"Oni Giri!"

Clang!

The slash was deflected skyward, cutting down a shower of leaves.

While Zoro was occupied holding it off, Kuina swiftly sheathed her sword, kicked hard against the ground, and shot toward him with a whoosh.

"Shave: Iai Slash!"

Faced with the flash of steel, Zoro barely had time to cross his two swords and do everything he could to block the strike.

Clang!

He held out for only an instant before the force sent him hurtling backward, slamming into a massive tree with a thud.