Chapter 864 - 864: Defeated, Yet Finally at Peace

Mihawk tightened his grip on the Black Blade and lifted his foot, walking toward Gion one step at a time.

The distance between them was clearly less than a hundred meters, yet to Mihawk, it felt like crossing an uncrossable abyss.

With every step forward, he could clearly feel an overwhelming pressure bearing down on him, as if the entire world were pressing against him.

There was no killing intent, no sword intent.

The pressure came from the difference in the very level of life itself.

But Mihawk did not stop.

His back remained perfectly straight until he halted thirty paces away from Gion.

"My lady, I am... Dracule Mihawk! The swordsman you once defeated beneath the Grand Line!"

Mihawk took a deep breath and forcibly drove away the fear that almost crushed his soul.

Holding the Black Blade Yoru tightly with both hands, his eyes shone brighter than ever before. His voice rang out like a great bell across Mary Geoise's training grounds.

"Lady Gion! Please grant me your guidance."

The instant the words left his mouth, Mihawk moved.

He used no flashy techniques. He simply poured everything he had learned about swordsmanship throughout his life, along with his desire for victory, into this single downward slash.

BUZZ!

A deep green glow, almost solid in appearance, faintly spread across the enormous Black Blade Yoru.

It was the result of Mihawk compressing and condensing his immense sword intent to its absolute limit.

As the blade fell, even the space around it warped slightly, as though time itself might be severed by this ultimate strike.

Yet before the strongest sword strike humanity could produce... Gion merely raised her right hand calmly and slowly extended her flawless index and middle fingers.

Tap!

A soft, crisp sound, as light as a raindrop falling onto a leaf.

The Black Blade Yoru, carrying enough sword intent to destroy heaven and earth, suddenly stopped in midair.

The wind came to a complete standstill.

The air stopped flowing, and the dust hanging between them froze in place.

With those two slender fingers, uncoated in Armament Haki and without the slightest trace of power, Gion casually pinched the sharp edge of Yoru.

The expression on Mihawk's face froze.

The veins bulged across the hands gripping his sword. His muscles strained so hard that blood seeped from them.

Yet he was horrified to discover that the strength capable of splitting an island apart vanished like a stone sinking into the sea.

Against those two fingers, he couldn't force the blade down even a single millimeter.

This was no longer a matter of swordsmanship.

Nor was it a matter of Haki.

It was a kind of powerlessness so absolute that it left no room even for the thought of resistance, like an ant trying to shake a mountain with its antennae.

Every ounce of effort and every bit of pride became nothing but a complete joke before such overwhelming might.

"Very good."

Looking at the gritting Mihawk before her, a trace of approval flashed through Gion's eyes.

She parted her lips slightly and gave him an exceptionally high evaluation.

"If I'd simply grown naturally on my own, I wouldn't have matched you. This is my gift in return, a reward for standing before me."

Just as Mihawk was briefly stunned by those words... Gion released the blade and naturally rested her right hand on the hilt of her sword, Konpira.

Shing!

If Mihawk had barely been able to follow the path of Kozuki Hiyori's blade and instinctively defend against it... then when Gion attacked with her full strength... only a vague blur flashed across Mihawk's retina, a brilliant pink light like spring cherry blossoms.

He didn't even hear the sound of the sword leaving its sheath before that pink slash had already cut across his chest.

Slash!

Scarlet blood burst into the air like a fountain, turning into a crimson rain.

Mihawk's body toppled back.

In the impossibly slow instant before he hit the ground, his eyes were filled with disbelief at the gap between them.

Yet mixed with that disbelief was relief.

At least he had come.

He had gripped his sword and charged toward that mountain he could never surpass.

Though the result was utter defeat, he couldn't even make her get serious, at least he hadn't backed down.

He had given the life he'd devoted to the sword an ending with no regrets.

Thud!

Mihawk hit the ground heavily, and dark red blood quickly pooled beneath him.

He felt as though all the strength had been drained from his body. Even moving a finger seemed impossible.

Yet he could clearly tell that his vital organs hadn't suffered any fatal damage.

Gion hadn't killed him.

That strike had avoided his vital points while using absolute power to destroy his ability to continue fighting.

All Mihawk could do was lie there, staring up at Mary Geoise's cloudless, crystal-clear sky.

From the corner of his vision, he watched Gion sheath her sword and turn toward the viewing platform.

Around the training grounds, those monsters also began to disperse, as though they had just finished watching an utterly predictable warm-up performance.

Mihawk knew he had lost.

And he had lost completely.

The only reason he was still lying here alive, able to breathe, was because the wife of that god had shown a sliver of mercy to a pure swordsman like him.

Just as Mihawk closed his eyes, ready to quietly nurse his wounds in a pool of blood...

"Hey, mustache. How long are you planning to lie there playing dead?"

A rough, wild voice, hoarse like that of a beast, suddenly exploded beside his ear.

With difficulty, Mihawk turned his head toward the speaker.

It was a tall man radiating violent fighting spirit.

His hair stood up like a hedgehog's spines. A black eyepatch covered his right eye, and resting on his right shoulder was a strange long sword with a serrated blade.

On his broad back clung an adorable pink-haired little girl, giggling happily.

"You are... who?", Mihawk's voice was hoarse.

Although he was badly injured, the physique of a Great Swordsman meant he wasn't actually too weak to stand.

He simply hadn't wanted to move under the weight of that despair.

"My name's Kenpachi Zaraki!"

The man bared his teeth in a bloodthirsty grin terrifying enough to make children stop crying.

Looking down at Mihawk, his eyes burned with mad fighting spirit as he spoke with complete disdain and provocation.

"Quit lying around like a damn wimp! If you're not dead, then get up! Heal those pathetic wounds of yours, and then let's have a proper fight!"

Hearing the rude insults and challenge, Mihawk's gaze slowly lowered until it settled on the battered, serrated sword resting on Kenpachi Zaraki's shoulder.

He could feel the pure soul of a swordsman within the man, without the slightest impurity, existing only to fight.

The dimness in Mihawk's eyes suddenly disappeared, replaced by light once more.

Using the Black Blade Yoru to support himself, enduring the tearing pain in his chest, he slowly rose to his feet, every movement painfully slow yet unwavering.

Looking at Kenpachi Zaraki's wild face, he suddenly threw back his head and laughed, a long, hearty laugh from the bottom of his heart.

"Hahahahahaha!"

'That's right!'

'I am a Great Swordsman!'

'As long as the sword in my hand isn't broken, as long as this body can still breathe, a swordsman should never doubt the path ahead.'

It was true that he wasn't Gion's equal, nor was he the match of the astonishingly gifted Kozuki Hiyori.

Perhaps in the future, the gap between them would only grow wider, until all he could ever see was their backs.

But so what?

He was a pure swordsman.

One crushing defeat should never make him stop moving forward.

There were still countless powerful warriors like the beast standing before him waiting for him across these seas.

Surely, if one day that junior, Zoro, actually surpassed him, he wasn't going to keep lying on the ground blaming fate and wallowing in self-pity.

"Good!"

Mihawk wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and gripped Yoru once again.

Looking at Kenpachi Zaraki, the razor-sharp spirit unique to a swordsman reignited in his eyes.

"Wait for me. I will defeat you!"

———

[Sky Palace, Rosse's Bedchamber]

Unlike the atmosphere in the training grounds, Rosse's private chamber was now filled with an intimate air.

On the enormous and extravagantly luxurious divine throne, Kozuki Hiyori was sitting on Rosse's lap.

There was a hint of madness in Hiyori's eyes.

After leaving the training grounds, she had come straight here.

It had been hard enough to get the chance to return, so she naturally intended to vent herself properly.

The icy top-tier swordswoman from the training grounds had seamlessly become a knight charging across the battlefield.

She brought the flexibility of her slender waist to its limit, tackling an extremely rhythmic and difficult game of Tetris.

Every perfectly aligned fit and drop put the durability of the divine throne to a merciless test.

"That swordsman called Mihawk... ha... is such a stubborn blockhead."

Hiyori complained in a sweet voice while remaining completely focused.

"He knew the gap in strength, and he still challenged her. I really don't know what he hoped to gain."

Looking at the captivating flush on the beautiful face in his arms, Rosse couldn't help but smile.

He wrapped an arm around Hiyori's slim waist and said softly, "Everyone has different things they pursue, just like Toki..."

"My lord, could you stop bringing her up every time? I don't have any memories of her. I was raised by Gion and Rouge."

Hiyori pouted. Although she had changed her surname, she still didn't want to hear that name.

"Heh! In some ways, you two are quite alike."

Rosse chuckled.

"Ah!"

Caught completely off guard, Hiyori arched her snow-white neck back like a ragdoll cat whose tail had been stepped on, letting out a soft cry.

Among the younger generation, Hiyori was probably the boldest.

She had sought him out years ago.

Rosse naturally hadn't refused.

After all, in this world, there were few things he considered off-limits.

Besides, Hiyori wasn't Shirahoshi, nor was she his blood relative, so he had nothing to worry about.

In fact, when Toki returned, Rosse was looking forward to seeing the look on that woman's face.

Counting the time, it would be less than another year before Toki appeared.

He still remembered that twenty-year promise.

The fact that Toki had wanted to bring him along when she traveled through time had left quite an impression on him.

Still, he liked Toki very much.

If he had to compare, his affection for her was far greater than what he felt for Hiyori.

In his eyes, Hiyori was at most a substitute, someone who filled the gap while Toki was absent.

"By the way, don't go too far with Momonosuke. If you really make Shirahoshi angry, I won't clean up the mess for you."

Hearing Rosse's teasing, Hiyori's movements paused slightly.

"Oh, come on..."

She didn't argue. Instead, almost as if sulking, she increased the smooth, dance-like sway of her waist.

Her face was flushed crimson, as though it could drip with moisture.

Several strands of green hair, damp with sweat, clung to her rosy cheeks, and her eyes overflowed with unconcealed delight.

She shot Rosse a charming glance before softly resting against his broad chest.

Drawing circles on his chest with her slender fingertips, she murmured in a sweet, clinging voice,

"My Lord Rosse knows me better than anyone. I wouldn't do anything foolish."

Hiyori shifted slightly, the smile at the corner of her lips both satisfied and infatuated.

"My wish is actually very small. As long as I can stay by your side, that's enough. Don't worry. I'll keep a close eye on Momonosuke. If that scum didn't still have a role to play in your script, I would've killed him long ago."

"You can handle it yourselves. Things in Arabasta are about to get lively too," Rosse smiled.

As for the final farce of the pirate world, he had always preferred to remain an audience member.

He would let Shirahoshi and the others do as they pleased and see whether they could put on a story that surprised him.

It wouldn't take long, about a year at most before everything came to an end.

During that time, Shirahoshi's script had quite a few major performances prepared.

He was looking forward to every one of them.

Besides, he still needed time to become fully familiar with his new power.

Once this performance ended, it would be time for him to begin conquering the next world.

The closest world to the One Piece world, aside from the world of Bleach, would most likely be that world of ninjas.

Its overall strength wasn't particularly high, making it perfect entertainment for him.

Farther away, however, he could sense another world that contained a vast universe.

In terms of power, it was probably nowhere near the Dragon Ball world, only loosely connected to the scale of a universe.

Even so, its strongest beings were still beyond what he could handle now.

But precisely because it was a challenge, it made things even more interesting.

Continuing to climb higher had always been what Rosse wanted.

Staying in a kiddie pool forever would never allow him to grow.

Beyond SSS rank, he could sense an even broader world waiting to be explored.

Judging by his current strength, he could survive in space for only a short while. Time travel was completely out of the question. At best, he could move through space, and even then he couldn't travel very far.

Right now, he was still far too weak.

He wasn't even capable of casually crushing a planet.