Time slipped away during the simple yet satisfying days of sparring. On the deserted island, the sound of steel clashing against steel echoed day after day without end.
Clang—!
The two black blades, Ace and Yoru, collided head-on once again. The black-and-red lightning that erupted from the impact was more violent than ever before. Kyle's wrist dipped under the pressure, and the powerful slash actually forced him to take half a step back. He steadied himself and looked at the expressionless man across from him, feeling a mix of admiration and disbelief. Mihawk was a monster born for the way of the sword.
In just over ten days, he hadn't only mastered how to infuse his blade with Haoshoku Haki, but he had also managed to perfectly blend it with his incredible swordsmanship. Now, every single one of his slashes carried the overwhelming intent to cut through anything, and the sharp power that burst from his attacks forced even Kyle to be careful.
The only problem was…
"I'm serious, can't you give your moves some names?" Kyle complained, shaking his slightly numb wrist. "You just swing your sword with a 'whoosh,' and that's it! It makes me look like some loud, hot-blooded idiot shouting attack names all the time. It's embarrassing!"
Mihawk simply raised his hawk-like eyes, gave Kyle a calm glance, and then silently lifted his black blade, Yoru, again. His actions were his only answer.
"..."
Alright, little hawk, your wings are getting strong, huh? You think you can show up the master just because I taught you a few things? I'm going to have to set some rules for you today!
Ignoring the two who were about to clash again, time passed, and Kyle made his way to the other side of the island. Unlike the intense energy of his training with Mihawk, the area where Moriah stayed was strangely quiet.
He was sitting cross-legged on a reef, his tall frame casting a massive shadow on the ground. He wasn't doing any physical training or practicing Haki. He was just staring down at the shadow at his feet, watching it stretch under the sunlight. It was as if he were having a conversation with a silent world.
Kyle didn't disturb him. He leaned against a nearby coconut tree and watched with interest. He could tell that Moriah was on the verge of a major breakthrough. The Shadow-Shadow Fruit had incredible potential, but Moriah's previous methods, like creating zombies or using techniques like Shadow's Asgard, always felt like they were missing something important.
Just as Kyle wondered if he should give him a little push, Moriah's low voice echoed softly.
"The soul... is light and shadow." A few quiet words hung in the air, filled with deep meaning. "A shadow is attached to the body, but it isn't passive. The soul is like an inner fire... it reflects our thoughts and carries our memories."
Kyle's relaxed expression slowly faded, replaced by one of genuine surprise. Who are you, and what have you done with Moriah? He had never expected Moriah to be capable of such deep, philosophical thoughts about souls and shadows. This was no longer just about developing a Devil Fruit's power; this was an exploration of a fundamental "principle" of the world.
Just then, an unlucky seagull flew overhead, letting out a sharp cry.
Moriah's head snapped up, his eyes flashing with a terrifying light.
Whoosh—!
A pitch-black shadow shot out from under his feet like a striking snake. It moved as fast as lightning, instantly wrapping around the seagull's neck and giving a gentle twist. The bird didn't even have time to cry out in pain before it fell from the sky, landing lifelessly on the sand in front of Moriah.
Kyle frowned, about to say something, but the next second, he witnessed something he would never forget.
Moriah slowly stood up. He looked down at the dead seagull and spoke in a majestic and solemn tone, like a king giving an absolute command.
"...Arise."
Pfft—!!!
Kyle choked, spraying out the water he had just taken a sip of. Are you kidding me? A Shadow Monarch is right here beside me?!
Before his eyes, the shadow of the dead seagull began to twist and surge violently. Then, a silhouette of a seagull made entirely of pure darkness slowly "stood up" from the flat, two-dimensional shadow, becoming a solid, three-dimensional being.
This Shadow Seagull flapped its wings and let out a piercing shriek. Two points of faint blue soul-fire burned where its eyes should have been. Kyle could clearly feel that this was not a simple shadow puppet. Inside that Shadow Seagull was a faint but real, independent consciousness—a true "soul entity"!
However, the seagull's soul was too weak to sustain it. The creature, built from shadows and soul fragments, lasted for less than ten seconds before it let out a final, mournful cry and collapsed back into a motionless puddle of black shadow.
It was a failure, but there was no sign of disappointment on Moriah's face. He looked at his outstretched hands, his eyes shining with a brighter light than ever before. His entire body trembled with excitement. He had found it. He had finally found his own unique path.
Kyle felt a little down. He lay on the villa's roof with his hands behind his head and a piece of grass dangling from his mouth, staring up at the empty sky.
Not far away, Mihawk was practicing his swordsmanship. He was only repeating the most basic moves—swings, chops, and thrusts. Each movement was simple, but they all held a profound power. Kyle knew that his sword was completely different from how it was just half a month ago. The will that was now intertwined with his blade had become an inseparable part of the sword itself. Now, Mihawk could be a threat to him even if he was only holding a twig.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the island, Moriah's presence grew deeper and more mysterious every day. Ever since he had his breakthrough with the "Soul Shadow," he had become a complete shut-in, spending all his time in a dark cave muttering to himself.
One was a sword genius, the other was a Shadow Monarch. His two sparring partners were both making unbelievable progress.
And what about him? His own skills had improved from the training, but he still hadn't reached that next level he was looking for.
"Sigh…" A long sigh escaped his lips, filled with the loneliness of someone at the top. "Forget it. Out of sight, out of mind. I'm taking a vacation."
East Blue, Foosha Village.
The village was as peaceful as ever. A gentle sea breeze carried the salty smell of the ocean and the sweet scent of grass through the town's only tavern. Next to the tavern, a flower shop had bright sunflowers blooming in the sun.
A beautiful woman with pink hair was sitting in a rocking chair in front of the shop, holding a baby in her arms and humming a soft lullaby. The sunlight made her hair glow, giving her a warm, motherly aura. The baby in her arms was sleeping soundly, with a few cute freckles on his small face.
"Rouge!" A little girl with short green hair, about seven or eight years old, ran over holding a cup of milk. She had a sweet smile on her face. "This is for you and the baby!"
"Thank you, Makino," Rouge said, looking up with a smile so gentle it could melt ice. "You're such a good girl."
"Hehe, Ace is being really good today, too!" Makino said as she stood on her tiptoes to gently poke the baby's soft cheek.
Villagers passing by would stop to greet them kindly.
"Rouge, the weather is beautiful today."
"Yes, I'm taking Ace out to get some sun."
"This child is growing so fast. He looks more and more like you."
Rouge smiled and replied to everyone, her eyes filled with pure happiness. Just then, she saw a familiar figure in the distance, and her smile grew even wider.
"Kyle! You're here."
"Yo," Kyle said with a grin as he walked over and sat down on the steps next to her. "You're looking good today, Rouge." His eyes fell on the baby, and he couldn't help but reach out and pinch his chubby little cheek. "Little Ace is looking full of spirit, too!"
The baby seemed to sense him, smacking his lips in his sleep and wrapping his tiny hand around Kyle's finger. Kyle remembered the day Rouge gave birth. He had been so anxious, pacing outside the room, probably more nervous than Roger himself would have been. But then, Roger was gone. He was a great captain and a good friend, but he wasn't a good husband or father.
Thankfully, everything had turned out okay. Because Kyle had intervened, Rouge never had to take the medicine that would have drained her life away just to delay Ace's birth. She was alive and healthy, and Ace could have the complete childhood he deserved.
Kyle pulled his thoughts back to the present. He looked at the genuine smile on Rouge's face and at Ace sleeping peacefully in her arms. Suddenly, his previous worries about his own strength felt a bit ridiculous.
Defeating powerful enemies and standing at the top of the world was one kind of strength. But protecting this hard-won happiness, making sure that tragedies that were supposed to happen never did—wasn't this also a kind of strength to be proud of?
The sun was warm, and the breeze was gentle. The corners of Kyle's lips turned up into a smile, and his golden eyes reflected the most beautiful scenery in the world.
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