Zoro's entire world had narrowed to the single, calm figure standing on the wreckage before him. Dracule Mihawk. The man whose name was both his ultimate goal and his greatest obstacle. To meet him here, so early in his journey, was a stroke of cruel, beautiful fate.
The impending duel silenced everything. The Krieg Pirates, the Baratie chefs, Luffy, Usopp, and the bounty hunters—all of them became mere spectators to a confrontation that felt bigger than all of them combined.
Zoro stood, his three swords drawn, his body trembling with an electrifying mix of terror and exhilaration.
Mihawk, however, simply looked at him with an expression of profound boredom. He reached for the small, cross-shaped pendant around his neck. With a soft click, he drew a tiny blade, no bigger than a paring knife.
He held it up. "I am not a savage who uses a cannon to hunt a rabbit," he said, his voice a calm, deep baritone. "Unfortunately, this is the smallest blade I have on my person."
He looked at Zoro with something akin to pity. "You may have earned some fame in this backwater sea, but you should know your place. The East Blue is the weakest of the four seas. A man who is a big fish in this small pond is nothing in the real world." He sighed. "I actually regret that I don't have an even smaller knife to use on you."
The humiliation was a physical blow, more painful than any cut. Zoro's body trembled, not with fear, but with pure, unadulterated rage. To have his life's ambition, his entire existence as a swordsman, dismissed so casually by the very man he sought to surpass… it was unforgivable.
"Don't you dare regret it," Zoro roared, his voice thick with fury, "when you're lying dead at my feet!"
He charged.
"A frog in a well, ignorant of the vastness of the sea," Mihawk said calmly. "It is time you experienced the real world."
Zoro crossed his arms, his three swords aimed for a single point. "Oni Giri!" (Demon Slash!)
He lunged forward in a demonic, three-pronged assault. It was his signature technique, a move that had never been stopped.
But it was stopped.
Mihawk didn't even move from his spot. He simply held up the tiny knife. With an impossible, elegant precision, he met the tips of all three of Zoro's charging katanas with the single, tiny point of his pendant blade.
SHRRRIIIIIIING!
A high-pitched scream of tortured metal echoed across the sea. All of Zoro's immense forward momentum came to a dead, shocking halt. He was stopped cold, by a toy.
Luffy's eyes went wide. Johnny and Yosaku couldn't believe it. Zoro himself was in a state of shock. 'No one… has ever been able to stop this technique before…'
The shock shattered his composure, and he descended into a wild, desperate frenzy. He swung his swords wildly, a storm of steel, abandoning form for pure, furious aggression. "RAAAARGH!"
Mihawk was a ghost. He effortlessly dodged and parried every single one of Zoro's ferocious attacks with just the tiny knife, not so much as breaking a sweat. He moved with a dancer's grace, a master toying with a child.
"What burdens you so?" Mihawk asked mid-parry, his voice calm, cutting deeper than any blade. "Why do you seek the ultimate power? You are a weakling."
"SHUT UP!" Johnny and Yosaku roared, unable to watch their friend be humiliated any longer. They drew their own swords to intervene.
"STAY OUT OF IT!" Luffy's voice boomed, stopping them in their tracks. He understood. This was Zoro's fight, and his alone.
Zoro pushed himself back, his chest heaving, his body covered in sweat and minor cuts. He remembered his promise to Kuina. He remembered his promise to Luffy, who expected nothing less than the World's Strongest Swordsman at his side. He gathered all his remaining strength and prepared his next technique. "Tora Gari!" (Tiger Hunt!)
But before he could even launch the attack, Mihawk moved.
He was a blur. The small knife flashed.
SHINK.
Zoro froze. He looked down. The tiny pendant knife was embedded deep in his chest, just inches from his heart.
Everyone stared in horror. Mihawk, however, looked surprised. "Why do you not step back?" he asked, a flicker of genuine curiosity in his hawk-like eyes.
Zoro looked down at the blade in his chest, blood seeping out and staining his shirt. He didn't have a clear answer. He just knew.
"I don't know," he gasped, the words pained. "But I have a feeling… that if I were to take even a single step back now… it would be like all the important vows, promises, and everything I've built to this point would be shattered… and I would never be able to return to where I am now."
"Yes," Mihawk said. "That is what they call defeat."
"That's why I can't step back," Zoro declared, a bloody grin on his face.
Mihawk's expression changed from curiosity to profound respect. "You would stand by that conviction, even if it means your death?"
"Death," Zoro coughed, "might be better."
Mihawk was incredibly impressed. He had not seen a will this strong in a very long time. He pulled the knife from Zoro's chest.
"Boy," he said, his tone now that of a true swordsman addressing a peer. "State your name."
"Roronoa Zoro."
Mihawk nodded. He reached over his shoulder and, with a deep, resonant shhhhiing, drew the colossal black sword, Yoru. "I will remember it. It has been a while since I have met one with your resolve."
As a gesture of respect, as a salute to a fellow swordsman's spirit, he raised the World's Strongest Blade. "I will end this now, with this."
Zoro knew this was his last chance. He poured every last ounce of his spirit, his ambition, and his promise into his swords. He began to spin them, creating a vortex of wind and killing intent.
"My ultimate technique… Sanzen Sekai!" (Three Thousand Worlds!)
He charged, a spinning cyclone of steel.
Mihawk met him with a single, elegant, downward slash.
CRACK!
The sound was absolute. Final.
Zoro's two katanas shattered into a thousand pieces. Only Wado Ichimonji, Kuina's sword, remained intact in his mouth.
He stumbled to a halt, defeated. He had never even considered the possibility of losing.
With a quiet dignity, he sheathed his one remaining sword. He then turned his back to Mihawk, opened his arms wide, and exposed his chest.
Mihawk was puzzled by the gesture.
"A wound on the back," Zoro said, his voice clear and steady, "is a swordsman's shame."
A rare, genuine smile touched Mihawk's lips. "Well said."
He swung the black blade.
A massive, clean slash cut deep across Zoro's chest, from his left shoulder to his right hip. Blood erupted.
As Zoro's body began to fall forward into the sea, a final thought passed through Mihawk's mind. 'It is too soon for you to die, Roronoa Zoro. Find yourself. Know the world. Become stronger. I will wait for you at the top.'
"ZORO!!!" Luffy, Usopp, Johnny, and Yosaku screamed in horror as their friend's body disappeared beneath the waves.