As a Great Swordsman, Golden Lion's sword energy was not only sharp but lethally destructive. Even Whitebeard had to treat it seriously.
Yet Chu Qiye hadn't even used Armament Haki. With nothing more than a simple upward flick, he deflected the slash.
This technique of using minimal force to redirect overwhelming power—aside from Rocks, no one present truly understood what had just happened.
"Let me try something too…"
Chu Qiye raised Raikiri and slashed down hard.
A crescent-shaped "slash," even larger than Golden Lion's, tore through the air at incredible speed.
Golden Lion's expression tightened. He immediately crossed his twin blades in front of his chest to block.
Then something unbelievable happened.
Golden Lion—the Great Swordsman—was blown backward.
Since he wasn't allowed to use his Float-Float Fruit, he was momentarily unbalanced and crashed to the ground.
Scrambling to his feet in embarrassment, Golden Lion roared,
"Black Devil! What did you just do?! That wasn't sword energy!"
"Obviously," Chu Qiye replied calmly. "I'm not even a swordsman. How could I use sword energy?"
"Gurararara…"
Whitebeard burst out laughing.
"Typical Qiye. Even he can come up with something like that."
What Chu Qiye had unleashed wasn't sword energy at all.
It was wind pressure.
By leveraging Raikiri's sharpness along with his own monstrous strength, he generated a compressed shock of air. It looked like sword energy—but lacked its intrinsic cutting lethality.
It was less like swinging a sword…
And more like throwing a punch.
That was why Golden Lion failed to block it properly.
"Damn you! You're not worthy of holding a sword!"
Furious, Golden Lion charged forward at full speed with both blades.
"Two-Sword Style: Lion's Frenzy!"
His blades moved at blinding speed, launching a storm of dazzling attacks that left onlookers overwhelmed.
Yet Chu Qiye responded with the simplest movements imaginable.
Thrust. Block. Flick. Slash. Swing.
Clean. Direct. No flourish. No wasted motion.
He used speed to counter speed—meeting Golden Lion's relentless assault head-on and neutralizing every strike.
At that moment, Whitebeard finally understood.
Chu Qiye's sword style… had no style at all.
Thrust, block, flick—simple actions, yet each concealed precise calculation.
As a master of hand-to-hand combat, Chu Qiye's control over strength and timing was terrifyingly accurate.
When to exert force.
When to withdraw it.
When to be fast.
When to slow down.
Every motion was deliberate. Every blade met its target perfectly, dissolving Golden Lion's offense at the exact right moment.
"This isn't swordsmanship," Whitebeard muttered with a helpless smile. "It's pure martial arts."
Precise. Clean. Stable.
There was no sharp killing intent in Chu Qiye's blade—none of the cutting aura typical of swordsmen.
"Just like he said," Whitebeard sighed. "He really has no talent for the sword."
"No."
Rocks suddenly spoke.
"He's already found his own path. He may never become a swordsman… but one day, he may surpass them all."
Whitebeard fell silent, digesting those words.
When simplicity is pushed to its absolute limit…
Doesn't that become a realm of its own?
Suddenly, he understood.
Any discipline—when perfected beyond surpassing—becomes its own peak.
…
Golden Lion grew increasingly irritated.
And increasingly alarmed.
Though his offense was relentless and Chu Qiye never counterattacked directly, he simply couldn't break through that defense.
Every attack was neutralized at the perfect moment.
As the fight dragged on, Golden Lion's stamina began to wane.
Chu Qiye, on the other hand, remained calm and steady—without even breathing heavily.
Golden Lion's Devil Fruit and swordsmanship were indeed powerful.
But in terms of pure physical ability and endurance within the Rocks Pirates—
He was near the bottom.
Ten Golden Lions might not outlast one Chu Qiye.
Golden Lion understood this too.
Anxiety crept in. His attacks became fiercer, more reckless.
And with recklessness—
Came openings.
"Got you."
Chu Qiye seized the flaw and slashed across Golden Lion's chest.
"AHH!"
Golden Lion cried out—but he didn't fall. Clutching the wound, he quickly retreated.
Looking down at Raikiri, Chu Qiye muttered,
"As expected… without true sword energy, the killing power is lacking. I'll need to solve that next time."
"What kind of sword style is this?!" Golden Lion roared.
As a Great Swordsman, he was genuinely shaken.
Simple—absurdly simple movements.
Yet they had blocked everything he threw.
Chu Qiye smiled.
"First time using it. Haven't named it yet. Let's call it… the 'Fifty-Fifty Sword Style.'"
Golden Lion froze.
"The concept is simple," Chu Qiye continued casually. "Force the fight into a fifty-fifty stalemate. Then compete in stamina until one side collapses."
"Long-term practice improves physical health."
"So you could also call it… the 'Health-Preserving Sword Style.'"
"Pff—!"
Golden Lion coughed up blood on the spot.
Health-preserving?!
"I refuse to accept this!"
Ignoring his bleeding wound, he leapt into the air.
"Lion: Thousand Slice Valley!"
With both swords, he unleashed more than a dozen massive golden slashes at once, pouring every ounce of strength into the attack.
"Wind-Pressure Slash—Deluxe Edition!"
Chu Qiye improvised the name on the spot.
Gripping Raikiri with both hands, he swung with full force.
A gigantic wave of compressed wind roared outward—
Blowing apart every incoming slash.
And sending Golden Lion flying once more.
Silence fell over the island.
This so-called sword duel…
Was nothing more than a battle of bodies.
Golden Lion's swordsmanship was fierce, his techniques dazzling.
But Chu Qiye was like an iron wall.
No matter how violently he struck—
He simply couldn't break through.
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