As the head of the Divine Martial Hall within the World Alliance, Alex took his role as host seriously, ensuring Xu Fu and Luo Xian were warmly welcomed. He organized a grand banquet in their honor, the tables laden with delicacies, the atmosphere vibrant with the clink of cups and lively conversation.
During the meal, Alex intended to introduce his disciple, Duanlang, to Xu Fu and Luo Xian, only to discover they had already met. The young boy's disciplined demeanor had evidently left an impression on the pair.
"Alex, your disciple is truly impressive. His character and potential are exceptional. With proper guidance, his future knows no bounds…" Di Shitian said, his smile warm and approving, genuine admiration coloring his words.
His praise was sincere. Had Duanlang not been Alex's disciple, Di Shitian's appreciation for potential might have prompted him to take the boy under his own wing. But the thought that Alex was soon to marry Luo Xian, making Duanlang part of his extended circle, eased any such inclinations, bringing a sense of satisfaction to the ancient master.
The banquet was a resounding success, filled with laughter and camaraderie that stretched late into the night, both host and guests reveling in the shared moment. As the evening wound down, Alex made arrangements for his guests' accommodations.
"The Divine Martial Hall rarely sees visitors, so the only occupied rooms are mine and Duanlang's. Miss Luo Xian, please take Duanlang's room for the night. Uncle Xu, you can stay in my room. I've decided to test Duanlang's martial skills tonight, so we'll head to the back mountain," Alex said, opting for a practical solution rather than preparing new guest quarters at such a late hour.
Di Shitian nodded, his expression genial. "Okay, then I won't stand on ceremony," he replied, accepting the arrangement with ease. As Alex's soon-to-be father-in-law, he felt no need for formalities. With that, he and Luo Xian retired to their respective rooms, leaving Alex to his plans.
Alex led Duanlang toward the secluded ridge behind the Divine Martial Hall, the night air cool and the moon casting a silver glow over the landscape. The boy walked with purpose, clutching a wooden sword, his eyes fixed on his master with unwavering focus.
"Master, I haven't slacked in my training while you were away. I feel I've made progress with my Armament Haki," Duanlang said, his voice earnest. As he spoke, an invisible energy surged from his body, channeling into the wooden sword. The top half-inch of the blade darkened, taking on a faint, metallic sheen—a clear sign of concentrated Armament Haki.
Alex had used his copy ability to impart the full knowledge and techniques of Armament Haki to Duanlang, and the boy's internal strength, now nearing 100 crystal points, was sufficient to manifest the skill, though still in its early stages. The Haki was reminiscent of Alex's own initial mastery in the One Piece plane, a promising start for the young disciple.
Alex's gaze softened, impressed by Duanlang's progress. "Well done. From now on, you won't need that wooden sword. Take this instead," he said, unfastening the White Dragon Sword from his waist and tossing it to Duanlang with a casual flick.
Duanlang caught the blade, his eyes widening as he examined it. Despite a small nick on its edge, the White Dragon Sword was a rare and formidable weapon, far superior to common blades. "Master, you're giving me the White Dragon Sword? What will you use?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern and gratitude.
Alex waved off the question, his tone brisk but encouraging. "No need to fuss. Let's get started," he said, extending a single finger. He channeled Armament Haki into it, the finger turning pitch black, its surface gleaming with a hardened, metallic quality.
Duanlang's expression grew serious, his earlier hesitation replaced by resolve. Without another word, he leaped forward, the White Dragon Sword flashing as he unleashed the Eclipse Swordsmanship. The blade, now infused with traces of Armament Haki, sliced toward Alex with precision and intent.
The clash of their sparring echoed through the night, a series of sharp ding ding ding as blade met Haki-hardened finger. Alex, bolstered by Wuming's 28G swordsmanship knowledge, observed Duanlang's technique with a master's eye, noting subtleties and flaws invisible to less seasoned swordsmen.
He pointed out imperfections in Duanlang's form—unnecessary flourishes, slight imbalances in stance—and offered clear, practical advice on refining his Eclipse Swordsmanship. Alex also shared insights on training more efficiently, drawing from his vast understanding of swordplay to guide his disciple toward greater mastery.
Though Alex's own internal strength was limited, his vision and expertise were those of a sword master. His instructions were clear and accessible, breaking down complex concepts into lessons Duanlang could grasp. Each word was like a ray of light piercing through fog, granting the boy a moment of clarity that deepened his understanding of the blade.
Duanlang's gratitude was palpable, his admiration for Alex growing with every pointer. The young disciple hung on his master's words, his respect solidified by the wisdom and care evident in Alex's teaching. While Alex had initially focused on imparting One Piece physical techniques like Armament Haki and Shave, his newfound proficiency in swordsmanship allowed him to offer Duanlang a comprehensive lesson in the art of the sword, delivered in a way that was both profound and approachable.
As the moon climbed higher, bathing the ridge in silver light, Alex and Duanlang continued their training, lost in the rhythm of blade and instruction. Meanwhile, back at the Divine Martial Hall, a shadow slipped through the night, moving with the stealth of a phantom.
Xiongba, clad in a dark cloak, had infiltrated the hall, his suspicions about Alex driving him to act. Determined to test the young man's true strength, he posed as an assassin, believing that a surprise attack would force Alex to reveal his full capabilities. If Alex was hiding his power, it would suggest ulterior motives for joining the World Alliance. If not, Xiongba could claim the attack was a misunderstanding, offer healing remedies, and win Alex's loyalty—a calculated plan to cover all outcomes.
Familiar with the layout of the Divine Martial Hall, Xiongba moved silently, evading detection as he reached Alex's room. With practiced ease, he broke the door latch and slipped inside, his senses sharp. Without hesitation, he raised his palm and struck the figure on the bed, unleashing a forceful blow.
The impact landed with a dull bang, but Xiongba froze, startled by the lack of resistance. Had Alex, a man capable of challenging the Sword Saint, been caught so unaware? The ease of the strike unsettled him—had he overestimated Alex's strength? A stronger blow could have ended him outright.
Pulling back the quilt, Xiongba's eyes widened. Instead of Alex, an elderly man lay on the bed, blood trickling from his mouth, his body still. The strike, though restrained to 30% of Xiongba's strength, appeared to have been fatal.
"Who is this? Why is he in Alex's bed? Where is Alex?" Xiongba muttered, his mind racing with confusion. The presence of a stranger in Alex's room was an unexpected twist, throwing his plan into disarray.
Before he could process further, the old man's eyes snapped open, gleaming with an eerie vitality in the darkened room. They locked onto Xiongba, piercing through the shadows with unsettling clarity.
"Hehehe, I was just messing with you. Think you can kill me? You're a bit overconfident. I didn't expect assassins in the World Alliance—how intriguing. But that palm strike? Too weak, barely enough to ease my tension…" Di Shitian said, his voice clear and mocking, cutting through the silent night like a blade.
Xiongba's heart lurched, shock coursing through him. "How is this possible!?" he exclaimed, his voice a hoarse whisper. His palm strike, even at 30% strength, could shatter stone, yet this elderly man remained unscathed, his demeanor mocking and relaxed. What kind of martial master was hiding in Alex's room?
Refusing to back down, Xiongba acted swiftly, raising his palm again. This time, he channeled 50% of his strength, the force surging as he struck Di Shitian's chest with a resounding bang.
Di Shitian barely flinched, his expression one of mild amusement. "Well, not bad, that one had a bit more bite. Still too weak, though. Is that all you've got? Come on, show me your real strength," he said, his tone teasing, as if the blow were a mere inconvenience.
Xiongba's horror deepened. A strike at 50% of his strength should have been devastating, yet this mysterious figure treated it like a playful tap. "Who is this guy!?" he thought, his confidence wavering. He could no longer afford to underestimate his opponent.
Gritting his teeth, Xiongba summoned 90% of his strength, his palm whistling through the air with enough force to level a house. The strike landed squarely on Di Shitian, sending him crashing to the floor with a thunderous bang. He lay motionless, his breath seemingly gone, as if the blow had finally ended him.
Xiongba approached cautiously, relief washing over him. "Huh, finally killed him?" he muttered, inspecting Di Shitian's still form. The old man appeared lifeless, the threat neutralized—though Xiongba remained baffled by his presence and resilience.
But his relief was short-lived. Di Shitian's eyes snapped open again, a sly grin spreading across his face. "That palm was quite strong. Give me a few more—I'm getting old, and I could use someone to ease my tension…" he said, his laughter echoing through the room, vibrant and mocking.
Xiongba stood frozen, his mind reeling in disbelief. Di Shitian, unscathed after a 90%-strength strike, was no ordinary foe. Confusion and dread gripped the gang leader, his carefully laid plan unraveling in the face of an opponent whose power defied comprehension.