"Senior, are you truly going to teach me swordsmanship?"
Forcing down the tremors in his heart, Zoro spoke with intense agitation. His eyes remained fixed on the Wado Ichimonji in Rowan's hand. After wielding this blade for so many years, he had never seen it appear so... alive. Although he was dying to ask how the old man had achieved such a miracle, he suppressed his curiosity. Now was not the time for questions.
"Swordsmanship?" Rowan shook his head repeatedly. "I won't teach you 'swordsmanship.' What I'm going to teach you is a single technique."
"A technique?" Zoro's brow furrowed in confusion.
Not far away, Hawkeye Mihawk pricked up his ears. He was deeply curious. What kind of strike would a grandmaster like Rowan—someone who could make such bold claims and display such miraculous control—choose to teach this boy?
"You shouldn't have overly grand expectations," Rowan continued, "because what I'm going to teach you is merely 'Thrust' (刺)—one of the eight basic movements of the sword."
The moment the words left Rowan's mouth, the crowd erupted into a chorus of jeers and laughter.
"Are you serious? Just a thrust?" "My son, who's only been learning for a few months, mastered that on day one. What is this old guy playing at?" "Is he just messing with Zoro?" "Looks like it."
"A thrust?" Zoro also raised his head, bewildered. Even he felt for a moment that the senior was teasing him. After all, forget just 'Thrust'—the eight fundamental moves: Thrust, Chop, Lift, Hook, Sweep, Dot, Crash, and Intercept—he had mastered those to the point of instinct by the time he was ten.
And now, this senior was saying he would teach him the basics. Even Mihawk felt as if Rowan was joking.
Rowan ignored the mockery. His gaze seemed to pierce through Zoro's eyes, reading the very thoughts in his soul.
"To you, what do blades and swords truly mean? And your Three-Sword Style—what is its purpose?" Rowan didn't begin the lesson immediately; instead, he threw out a question.
"The purpose of the Three-Sword Style?" Zoro froze. His unique style had always been his pride; this was the first time anyone had questioned its fundamental meaning. But he wasn't angry. After a moment of contemplation, he answered: "Three-Sword Style is more powerful than one or two blades. Using three swords simultaneously allows for more variables, creating an endless offensive that is difficult to defend against. When combined, their power stacks, making the strike unavoidable."
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Rowan applauded loudly. "Well said!"
Mihawk also nodded slightly. Though he wasn't a Three-Sword Style user, he agreed with Zoro's logic.
But Rowan's tone shifted instantly. "Your theory is good, and you've done excellently. So why did you just lose?"
Zoro fell silent. After a moment of inner struggle, he finally spoke: "Because my strength isn't great enough."
"Correct. Because you aren't strong enough." Rowan acknowledged the answer, but he didn't mock him. He continued: "Your forms are proficient, and your strength is fierce. But the essence of swordsmanship isn't about using brute force to hack and slash; it's about using the Heart."
"The... Heart?" Zoro looked utterly lost.
Rowan chuckled but said nothing more. He lifted the Wado Ichimonji and flicked the hilt with his finger.
Hummm!
The blade let out a joyful, melodic ring, its surface shimmering with light.
"Swift!" Rowan let out a soft command.
The Wado Ichimonji vibrated, and several threads of sharp sword-light radiated from the blade. The bluestone tiles surrounding Rowan were instantly carved with a series of crisscrossing slashes.
"How is this possible?!" Zoro's eyes bulged, his mind flooded with disbelief. The Wado Ichimonji... released Sword Intent on its own? He had lost count of how many times he'd been stunned today, but this old man kept shattering his perception of reality over and over again.
Even in Mihawk's eyes, a light of sheer disbelief flickered. He agreed with Rowan's earlier words, but this display was subverting his own understanding of the Way of the Sword.
"Is it some kind of Devil Fruit power?" some swordsmen in the crowd whispered. Otherwise, how could a blade come to life like that in his hand?
Most swordsmen in the pirate world focused on using brute force to clash steel. Even powerful grandmasters simply possessed greater physical strength and projected larger shockwaves. A display like Rowan's was completely unheard of.
"I know you're shocked, but this isn't a level you can touch yet. Knowing too much now would only hinder your future path."
In truth, achieving this was simple for Rowan. All things have a rhythm; all things have a spirit. A famous blade like the Wado Ichimonji, which had been passed down through generations of masters, possessed a powerful spirit. As long as one could communicate with that spirit and possessed a level of swordsmanship high enough to earn its respect, the blade would respond to one's will.
Fortunately, Rowan had recently "added points" to reach the pinnacle of this world's swordsmanship. To him, this move was as natural as breathing.
Looking at Rowan as he lowered the blade, Mihawk found himself intensely interested in the upcoming lesson. A powerhouse who could release such Sword Intent was someone who could not be judged by conventional standards. It seemed his trip to the East Blue was going to be more than worth it.
"Now, I will teach you the true application of the 'Thrust'." Rowan tossed the Wado Ichimonji back to Zoro.
The moment it landed in Zoro's hand, the brilliant, shimmering blade instantly returned to its original, plain appearance. Zoro didn't feel disappointed. To him, this blade was more than a weapon; it was a legacy of conviction.
"The Thrust is an elementary move, yet it is foundational. Its usage is simple—a literal thrust. But tell me, have you ever truly used this move correctly?"
Hearing this, Zoro's heart skipped a beat. He felt as if he were on the verge of understanding something, yet it remained just out of reach. "Truly used it correctly?" he murmured.
"The essence of the Thrust is simple: focus all your strength into a single point to create the ultimate destructive force."
Rowan's gaze shifted, eventually locking onto a stone pillar not far away. Seeing his look, the crowd surrounding the pillar scrambled to get out of the way.
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