Sparring / Swords and Blades Are Not Such Inconvenient Things

A rapid alarm rang out above the Marine Base in Loguetown. Row after row of Marines formed up in orderly lines amid the tense atmosphere, and Colonel Randall appeared at the base's Training Ground right on time to ask what was happening.

"Report, Colonel! A pirate ship has been spotted docking at the port! It's the Iron Hammer Pirates, every one of whose members has a bounty of thirty million Beli!"

A Marine who looked like an intelligence officer shouted the report.

The Iron Hammer Pirates, huh? Randall remembered them. Their captain, Haohei, had a bounty of twenty million Beli, which already qualified him as a major pirate in the East Blue. (Note: Since Luffy had not been born yet, Garp did not visit the East Blue particularly often. Thus, although the East Blue was still the Weakest Sea, its bounties were not generally as low as they would be more than a decade later.)

"All hands! Form up and head to the port to intercept the Iron Hammer Pirates! Stop the pirates from landing! Protect the safety of the town's residents!"

Randall roared. A twenty-million-Beli bounty was already enough to make him take the matter seriously.

After all, he was only a branch colonel. Unlike Smoker in the future, who could rely on his Logia Devil Fruit to dominate pirates incapable of using Haki,

one careless moment could leave him overturned in a ditch. Yet the price of capsizing in battle was often one's life, so Colonel Randall's eyes grew serious.

"Yo! Colonel Randall, how did you know I was coming back? And why did you make such a huge show of it? Honestly, you're making me feel embarrassed..."

Atlas's Observation Haki naturally sensed the group of Marines charging over from the distance, especially Colonel Randall at the front. He assumed they had come to welcome him back, so he sat cross-legged at the bow of the ship with a beaming smile, enjoying his moment in the spotlight.

When Randall reached the port, he found a resolute-looking, heavily muscled youth sitting at the bow of the Iron Hammer Pirates' ship. None of the other pirates were in sight. Thinking there might be an ambush, he grew even more vigilant. Yet the youth looked strangely familiar to him, as though he had seen him somewhere before.

"Colonel Randall, what's wrong? You don't recognize me?"

Atlas also sensed that something was off. Randall had not given him a big hug, and he had not even come over with a confused look before assuming a guarded stance. The Marines behind him were all bristling with murderous intent, as if they wanted to eat Atlas alive. How did that look anything like a welcoming party?

"You're... that brat Atlas?"

Colonel Randall carefully compared the person before him with the brat in his memory, then asked uncertainly.

This could hardly be blamed on Randall. Atlas was now a teenager in his prime, after all, and he had indeed changed quite a bit since leaving Loguetown.

For one thing, there was his height and build. He had previously been fairly lean, but now his smooth muscle lines, broad back, and bulging deltoids made him look like an entirely different person. His features had also grown much more mature, and his whole bearing carried a sharper edge...

"What?! Colonel Randall actually forgot me? That really hurts."

Atlas said he was hurt, but his face was filled with a smile.

Seeing that he was not an enemy, the surrounding Marines relaxed at once. Some who knew Atlas even wanted to greet him, but they forcibly held themselves back out of respect for military discipline.

"What's the story with this pirate ship?"

Randall asked the question that had been troubling him.

"Oh, I ran into them on the way. The little boat was too slow, so I dealt with them while I was at it and earned some military merit to give you as a welcome-back present."

Atlas answered casually.

"Then why didn't you take down the pirate flag?!"

A vein bulged on Randall's forehead, and he grew agitated.

Atlas blinked. He looked toward the pirate ship, then at the furious Randall, and immediately understood.

"Come on, don't get so angry. I just forgot."

With that, he drew his sword and slashed at the ship's mast. A blood-red slash shot through the air, cutting down the pirate flag and sending it tumbling into the sea.

"There. Now it's gone."

This genuinely shocked Colonel Randall and the Marines beside him. Randall took it relatively well; he had been to the Grand Line and had naturally seen Swordsmen before. He was merely astonished by how quickly Atlas had grown. The other Marines, however, were completely overwhelmed by that mighty display of power.

"Hahahaha! Good lad, come on. Let's go to my office and have a proper chat!"

"All Marines! Dismissed on the spot!"

Randall laughed heartily as he kept pulling Atlas toward his colonel's office.

Randall lounged in his office chair, a cigar between his teeth as he puffed out clouds of smoke. Naturally, it was nothing expensive, merely an ordinary cigar. Randall might not have been especially powerful, but he was unquestionably worthy of the word "Justice" behind him!

"Come on, tell me in detail what happened while you were away."

Randall looked at Atlas with satisfaction.

"Oh, it was nothing much. I got lost after pursuing the Philoc Pirates, then happened to run into Vice Admiral Garp... Vice Admiral Garp should have told you... everything that happened afterward."

Atlas gave Colonel Randall a rough account of what had happened during that time. In truth, he was not sure whether Garp's unreliable self had actually told Colonel Randall anything.

Randall then questioned Atlas about the details of his time "wandering" outside, taking on the role of an elder. Atlas answered each question one by one.

After a long while, Atlas gently closed the door to the colonel's office. He planned to visit Lieutenant Wright.

Oh, right. It was worth mentioning that Atlas was now a branch lieutenant, the same rank as Wright.

At Wright's home, Atlas stared at Lieutenant Wright with a look of constipation. Wright's shoulder insignia clearly showed that he was already a major of the Loguetown Marine Base. Atlas, who had originally intended to show off a little, instantly found the words stuck in his throat.

In truth, Atlas's strength and military achievements were more than enough to qualify him for promotion to a field officer. However, field officers could not be appointed by a mere branch colonel. The request had to be reported to Headquarters, which would then issue the appointment order. The whole process would probably take some time.

After chatting at Wright's home and asking about his circumstances, the visit was nearing its end.

"Oh, right! When you have time, remember to go see that brat Smoker. He should really want to meet you right now..."

At the end, Lieutenant Wright—or rather, Major Wright—spoke to Atlas meaningfully.

"Huh? Oh, sure. I'll definitely go if I get the chance."

Although somewhat bewildered, Atlas still agreed.

Chapter 19: Sparring

Early the next morning, Atlas began his daily training at the base's Training Ground. He had to admit that he rather missed the days when he had first joined the Marines and desperately trained at the Training Ground...

"Yo, Atlas! Honestly, you came back and immediately started training this hard. You should rest once in a while."

Colonel Randall happened to pass by and teased Atlas when he saw him training as soon as he returned.

"Ah, I can't help it. I'm still too weak!"

Atlas answered as he swung the longblade in his hand, the resolve in his eyes not diminishing in the slightest.

"Good grief, what a hardworking brat."

"Perfect. I'm feeling a little restless myself. Why don't you spar with me? It'll be a good chance to test your strength."

Colonel Randall rolled his thick neck and smiled at Atlas.

"Of course. But you're not allowed to use Flying Slash."

Randall seemed to remember something and quickly added that condition.

Atlas also felt his blood stirring. Although he believed no one in the base was his match now, he still wanted to test himself against Randall, the base's strongest man in name. Perhaps he could even learn something. After all, Randall's age meant that his combat experience was certainly far richer than Atlas's.

"Okay!"

Atlas shouted his agreement, then followed Randall to an open area of the Training Ground.

The soldiers who had been watching from the sidelines immediately grew excited. They had long been curious about which of the two—Atlas or Colonel Randall—was stronger. Atlas was a famous monster in the base, after all, and the scene at the port had left an especially deep impression on them. They ran about shouting, calling their friends over, and before long, the area around the Training Ground was packed with a mass of Marines.

"Hehe, Colonel Randall, you'd better give it everything you've got later. Don't lose too quickly."

Atlas surveyed the surroundings, then grinned at Randall.

"Enough with the nonsense. Stop boasting, you brat!"

Randall cursed him with a laugh, refusing to give an inch.

The two drew their swords and stepped forward. Sparks flew where the blades collided...

"Brat, your sword isn't as sharp as your mouth!"

Randall stared at Atlas as they locked blades. His face had flushed from exertion, and the veins on his neck bulged one after another. The clash of strength with Atlas was clearly becoming difficult for him, but he refused to back down verbally.

"Oh? Is that so? Then try this, old man Randall!"

Atlas refused to be outdone, constantly firing off taunts.

One Sword Style: Iris!

Atlas took a step back. His arm swelled as his biceps and triceps exerted themselves in unison, and he swung a mighty horizontal slash at Randall. Naturally, Atlas held back some of his strength. It would be rather awkward if he split Colonel Randall open and made him vomit blood with one blow.

Randall was clearly no pushover. He raised his sword beside him and easily blocked the strike.

"Hahahaha, brat! Haven't you eaten enough? Come on! Keep going!"

Randall continued talking tough to conceal his inner turmoil. Damn, what did this brat grow up eating? How is he this strong?

Atlas discreetly glanced at Randall's trembling right hand and decided to suppress his strength a little further, leaving the old man some dignity.

The surrounding Marines naturally had no idea what was really happening. They assumed the two were evenly matched and cheered enthusiastically from the sidelines.

"Again, brat!"

Randall roared, as if he had given himself a boost.

Bang!

Another plain collision rang out, but a crack appeared in Atlas's weapon. This was only natural. Atlas had always used a standard Marine longblade rather than a Famous Sword. After accompanying him through so many battles, it should have been retired long ago. Lasting until now already made it one of the finest standard-issue blades.

"Hahahaha! Brat, looks like your sword is about to give out!"

Colonel Randall had clearly noticed the crack in Atlas's sword. His eyesight was not extraordinary, but a seasoned veteran like him could sense something wrong from the sound of a collision alone.

"Don't worry, Colonel Randall. It'll hold out long enough for me to beat you."

One Sword Style: Bird Thorn!

A straight thrust shot toward Randall, upright and forceful, relying on sheer strength to overwhelm him!

Randall blocked with a horizontal guard, and a white mark immediately appeared on his beloved sword. Randall's heart ached terribly. Although it was not a Famous Sword, it had accompanied him through most of his life and was far better than the Marines' standard-issue blades.

"Brat! I'm getting serious now!"

Randall steeled himself, gripping his sword with both hands. Only then could he withstand the force of Atlas's swings.

Shave!

Randall suddenly vanished from Atlas's sight, leaving only a string of afterimages behind. Shave was one of the Marine Six Powers. Because of his limited aptitude, Randall had only mastered two of the Six Powers, and neither could be called proficient. He had barely reached the entry level. At present, he could use it only to bully Atlas, who had yet to learn the Six Powers.

However, Atlas's physical abilities had already become superhuman, fully meeting the standard for training in the Six Powers. His explosive speed alone was already beyond the reach of ordinary people. Yet the Marine Six Powers were a martial inheritance that surpassed the human limits. Thus, Atlas was currently still slower than Colonel Randall. But with Randall's physique, he probably could not use Shave many times. The strain it placed on the user's leg muscles was enormous!

Atlas could easily stall until Randall could no longer support himself, then defeat him without effort. But...

Observation Haki! Lock on!

Activating his Observation Haki, Atlas easily detected Colonel Randall preparing to circle behind him. The corner of his mouth curled up, and he struck back!

He advanced instead of retreating!

One Sword Style: Rainfall!

This was a new technique Atlas had developed. In essence, it was a downward slash, but its tremendous force and momentum created three overlapping images that struck the enemy like a violent rainstorm.

Randall was honored to become the first test subject for Atlas's new technique. He did not feel lucky in the slightest. The sheer momentum of Rainfall alone made his heart tighten.

But just as Randall was about to lose, something unexpected happened. Atlas's longblade suddenly shattered into a sky full of iron fragments that drifted down. The blade had already been cracked, and it had probably been unable to withstand Rainfall before breaking apart. This happened to save Randall from defeat.

Chapter 20: Swords and Blades Are Not Such Inconvenient Things

"Hahahaha, brat! You're definitely losing this time!"

Randall froze for a moment, then burst into a triumphant laugh.

Atlas smiled as well. He clenched both fists, and a thick layer of calluses covered his knuckles like armor, inspiring fear at a glance.

"Swords and blades are not such inconvenient things! My physical techniques are strong too... Colonel!"

Atlas's smile carried a profound meaning. Although he had focused on swordsmanship over the years, making people believe that Atlas was a swordsman whose combat power would drop sharply the moment he lost his sword, that way of thinking was not wrong. Every swordsman was like that.

But Atlas was different. He did not possess that kind of absolute devotion to the sword.

To him, swordsmanship was merely one means of becoming stronger. Physical techniques were another.

Thus, he had never neglected his physical training. There was no complicated method. He simply threw punches day after day, beginning with punches through the air and then moving on to punching hard objects.

He had learned this from Garp's memories. Back then, to smash the headbutt Chinjao the Drill of the Happo Navy was so proud of, Garp had trained by flattening eight mountains with his fists.

Atlas naturally could not reach such a terrifying level, but he could still take on a few small hills.

Randall did not bother with any fancy tricks. He simply swung his sword down at once!

Atlas naturally was not foolish enough to meet a blade head-on with his bare fists. Instead, he shifted his body slightly to the side and slammed his fist into the flat of the blade. The tremendous force instantly nearly made Colonel Randall lose his grip on the sword.