After leaving the elite training camp, Victor returned directly to his seaside cabin. He had previously buried the rare metals here, and now it was time to officially begin forging his swords. He needed to bring all the materials with him.
Victor dug up the metals he had buried and headed straight for the weapons workshop, carrying not only Kast Blue Gold and Eternal Black Gold but also seven or eight other rare metals.
"I'm still short on special metals. If I had just one more, I could definitely forge a Supreme Grade blade. But as it stands, I'll just have to do my best and see how luck favors me."
Upon arriving at the workshop, Victor sought out the master smith recommended by Andrew. The old craftsman, named Allen, was the head of the sword-forging division and one of the most skilled smiths in the Navy. Many high-ranking officers' blades had been crafted by his hands.
"Master Allen, I know how to forge swords myself. All I need is an independent workstation," Victor said to the short, elderly man.
"That won't do! How much skill could a youngster like you possibly have? Don't waste such precious materials—let me handle this!"
The wrinkled old man, Allen, stared excitedly at the Kast Blue Gold and Eternal Black Gold in Victor's bag. These were legendary materials in the forging world—rarities he had only seen once before, thirty-five years ago, when he was still an apprentice. Back then, someone had brought Eternal Black Gold and another special metal to his master for forging. He had dreamed ever since of one day working with such materials himself, but the opportunity never came.
Just when he thought this dream would die with him, these treasures suddenly appeared before his eyes. How could he let this chance slip away?
"I really can forge swords. Look, this one is my work!"
Victor pointed helplessly at 'Chikara' hanging at his waist. The old man was frail, and Victor feared speaking too loudly might send him to an early grave. But Allen stubbornly refused to let Victor work alone, his eyes burning with the obsession of a craftsman desperate to leave behind a masterpiece in his lifetime.
When Allen saw 'Chikara', he remembered—he had been the one to appraise this blade. At the time, he had praised the smith's skill, assuming it was the work of an elderly master. Never had he imagined it belonged to this young man before him.
"You? Impossible! Absolutely impossible! No one without thirty years of forging experience could craft a blade of this caliber from such simple materials. Are you trying to fool me, boy?"
Allen stared at Victor in shock, unable to believe it. If this young man truly had forged 'Chikara', what did that make him? Had his decades of toil been meaningless? The thought nearly drove him to throw himself into the furnace out of sheer shame.
"I really did forge it. If you don't believe me, I'll prove it right now."
Victor had no temper left to argue with the old man—he couldn't hit him or yell at him.
"Fine! But you can only use a small amount of these precious materials!"
"With Eternal Black Gold, nothing will go to waste. Don't worry."
Victor was speechless. 'These are my materials, aren't they? Since when do you get a say?'
"...Fair enough."
---
A month slipped by unnoticed as Victor hammered away. By the end, he had forged four weapons—three swords and one blade. Among them, one sword and one blade were trial pieces, yet they still reached the level of Great Grade blades, thanks to the extraordinary materials.
When Victor completed his first sword, Old Man Allen's jaw hit the floor—literally leaving a dent. He didn't bother picking it up, knowing it would drop again soon enough.
The old man watched, wide-eyed, as Victor wielded legendary forging techniques with flawless precision. He finally accepted the truth: geniuses like this truly existed. His worldview shattered, he nearly slunk away in defeat—until Victor pulled him back, offering to let him assist. Allen agreed eagerly, his eyes reignited with passion.
Victor's final two blades used more materials and were of far superior quality. When they were completed, twin cyclones erupted from the blades, sweeping through the forge. Every smith present shuddered, their hammers nearly slipping from their grip as an inexplicable chill gripped their hearts.
"Ah! So close! Two Supreme Grade blades—just a hair's breadth away! What a tragedy!" Allen clutched his chest, overcome with regret.
"No need for regret. I expected this outcome. There'll be other chances."
Victor examined the two Great Grade swords with a satisfied smile. The moment they were finished, he had sensed their immense power. They were already on par with 'Shusui'—and with enough Haki tempering, they would one day rival even the legendary black blade that had slain a dragon.
"You'll have more opportunities, but what about me? How many years do I have left? I just… can't accept it!" The old man's voice trembled with frustration.
"Then how about I name one of these blades after you?" Victor grinned.
"R-Really?!"
Tears welled in Allen's eyes. This was an unparalleled honor—names like Kast Blue Gold and Eternal Black Gold had endured for centuries. As long as the blade survived, his name would live on. And if it found a powerful wielder, it might even ascend to myth, like Wano's national treasure, 'Shusui'.
"Of course. Do you agree? This is your only chance!" Victor grinned at Old Man Allen.
"Y-Yes! I agree! Let the one with the white mythical beast guard be named 'Allen'!" The elderly smith's face flushed crimson with excitement, as if he'd just experienced something profoundly exhilarating.
"Done. This blade shall be 'Allen,' and the other remains 'Chikara'—to honor its predecessor. It's decided." Victor declared, finalizing the names of his twin masterpieces.
"Old man Allen, prepare to see this blade shake the world! Better keep up with the newspapers!" Victor's laughter boomed through the forge as he departed with all four weapons.
---
The setting sun painted Victor's silhouette as he strode toward the coast, two new swords at his waist and the remaining blade-and-sword pair strapped across his back. The sword was for Rebecca—matching her original weapon's exact dimensions for familiarity, though its azure blade (a hue matching her favorite color, albeit less mesmerizing than Kast Blue Gold) revealed its superior craftsmanship.
Victor's twin blades shared identical designs—straight-edged Tang Hengdao styles with flame-tempered patterns along their lengths. Their guards morphed into dragon forms: the crossguards becoming snarling heads that clamped the blades between their jaws, while the pommels tapered into coiling tails. Only their colors differed—one white dragon (Allen), one black (Chikara).
These were weapons Victor could proudly wield for life. At the peak of Great Grade quality, they could already clash with any armament without fear—even Kaido's club would merely send him flying (though with proper defensive posture and Geppo deceleration, the damage would be negligible).
---
As Victor entered the forest, his Observation Haki detected two familiar presences by the shore. Rebecca was training Wendy—specifically, honing the younger girl's nascent Observation abilities.
A month had passed since their last meeting. True to his word about secluded training, Victor had devoted every waking moment to forging by day and mastering Haki flow by night. The results spoke for themselves—his Ryuo control was now flawless, no longer inconsistent.
Watching his proteges train, Victor's lips curled into a satisfied smile. His blades were ready. His skills were sharper than ever.
The real test would come soon enough.