One Piece: Holy Light Swordmaster

"What's wrong, Mihawk? Keep going!"

Three days and three nights had passed since Wright and Mihawk's intense sword duel began.

As the battle raged on, Wright grew increasingly exhilarated, and Mihawk, sensing Wright's rapid improvement, found himself even more eager to continue.

In these three days, the battlefield's surroundings had been utterly transformed. Any structure that once stood nearby was now obliterated—at best reduced to rubble, at worst to fine dust.

A thick layer of ash had filled the scars on the ground, creating what looked like a vast, man-made plain.

Wright's suit had long since been shredded, reduced to little more than rags, which he discarded, revealing his perfectly toned physique.

Flawless. Unblemished.

Even the strikes of the world's greatest swordsman had failed to leave so much as a scar!

As for his Justice Cloak...

Ahem... Given the unparalleled strength of Wright's sense of justice, the cloak remained intact—neither torn nor even slightly damaged!

"…"

Mihawk took a deep breath. Even as the world's greatest swordsman, he found himself momentarily at a loss against Wright, this seemingly indomitable force.

"I can see it—you've hit a bottleneck. These past days of relentless dueling have unlocked the potential you've been accumulating for so long," Mihawk said, sheathing Yoru, the Black Blade, on his back. "Your ability is truly suited for training. Without it, given your previous level of swordsmanship, you wouldn't have lasted half an hour against me."

"Haha, that's true." Wright lifted Ashes, examining it closely. "As expected of the mighty Black Blade Yoru. My Ashes has benefited greatly from this battle."

"Under such immense pressure, Ashes is likely to ascend into the ranks of the Great Grade Blades in the near future."

"Wright, at your current rate, it may only take a few months before you reach the realm of a great swordsman."

Mihawk now regarded Wright as an equal—not just in combat but in swordsmanship. While Wright had already matched him in overall strength, seeing a peer emerge in pure swordsmanship filled Mihawk with rare excitement.

Witnessing the birth of a new master swordsman was a rare and exhilarating experience for Mihawk, who, after Shanks lost his arm, had felt the solitude of standing at the pinnacle.

"Thanks for the kind words. Right now, I feel a surge of insights clamoring to surface. If we continue, I might miss the chance to process and refine them," Wright said solemnly, bowing deeply in a swordsman's salute. "As a swordsman, I owe you my gratitude—for your guidance and for stopping at just the right moment."

Mihawk sidestepped the bow, shaking his head. "You possess a reverence for swordsmanship, despite having powerful Devil Fruit abilities. You've chosen to face me using pure swordsmanship—that respect is mutual.

"Your rapid progress is largely due to your solid foundation. Without the proper pressure, you wouldn't have been able to convert that foundation into strength. I simply provided the pressure.

"I look forward to dueling you again—after you've broken through to the realm of a great swordsman."

"Of course, I'm looking forward to it as well!"

"Now then, after three days without food... Aren't you hungry?" Mihawk asked, heading toward his castle. Despite his formidable strength, the mighty swordsman's steps seemed a bit unsteady.

"Now that you mention it… I suppose I am. Being full of energy doesn't stop your stomach from growling." Wright followed closely behind. "Are you offering to treat me to a meal?"

"My vegetables... They've likely all withered from lack of water."

"Doesn't matter—as long as there's meat!"

"…Cook it yourself!"

After successfully scoring a meal at the table of the world's greatest swordsman, Wright left Mihawk's stunned gaze behind, turning into a streak of golden light and teleporting back to his office at Marine Headquarters.

"Huh? Feels like I forgot something…"

Sitting in his spacious chair, Wright pondered for a moment. "Oh, right! The baboons! Got too caught up in the fight and forgot to capture a few to bring back…"

"Never mind. Next time I'll bring a Lightforged Beacon Crystal with me. Mihawk shouldn't mind me dropping in to spar—or pester—him occasionally, right?"

After changing clothes, taking a bath, and catching up on sleep to recover from his exhausting duel, Wright made his way to Sengoku's office.

"Yo, old man Sengoku! I'm back!"

"Hmm? Who did you fight? A soldier reported seeing you 'shirtless and ragged' upon your return…" Sengoku adjusted his glasses, relishing the sight of Wright's slightly embarrassed expression. "Aren't you always so image-conscious? What happened to you this time?"

Wright's face darkened—who was the idiot who reported that? He'd make sure they regretted it!

"Ahem…" Wright coughed, quickly regaining his composure. "Old man Sengoku, it's your faulty intel to blame…

"What kind of 'armed force' did you call it? More like a group of high-IQ baboons that know how to wield weapons like humans!"

"…" Sengoku's jaw nearly dropped. "Baboons… Well, I suppose it's possible. But how did a bunch of baboons leave you in such a state?!"

"Of course not!" Wright corrected quickly. "There was a tricky opponent on that island—one the Navy seems to know nothing about."

"Who?" Sengoku frowned. "Someone the Navy should know about?"

"The Warlord of the Sea—the world's greatest swordsman, Dracule Mihawk! Shouldn't the Navy be aware of him?"

"What?!"

Sengoku was visibly shaken. "Mihawk? That man joined the Seven Warlords but barely interacts with the World Government or the Navy. So he's there!"

"Yeah, probably bored out of his mind," Wright remarked, eyeing the snacks on Sengoku's desk. With Garp away, Sengoku seemed to be indulging more than usual…

"That guy's been growing vegetables, by the way. His cooking skills aren't half bad."

Snatching a few rice crackers, Wright started munching.

"…You fought Mihawk? And he cooked for you?" Sengoku asked incredulously. He knew Mihawk's solitary and prideful nature all too well. For him to share a meal with someone meant that Wright had gained his recognition.

"One fight? Try three days and nights!" Wright held up three fingers, exasperated. "If not for my recovery ability, I wouldn't have lasted half an hour against his swordsmanship alone."

"The world's greatest swordsman isn't a title given lightly. Mihawk's skill is undisputed," Sengoku nodded, looking pleased. "Still, for you to hold your own in pure swordsmanship… That's impressive. Did you gain anything from it?"

"Plenty." Wright exhaled deeply. "I'm requesting a period of seclusion—undisturbed training."

"I think I've touched the threshold of the great swordsman realm. If I can break through, my combat ability will rise to a new level, giving me another chance for rapid growth!"

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