The forge burned deep into the night.
Sparks crackled like tiny stars, leaping and dying in the breath of the furnace as Jin Akasa raised his hammer again and again, sweat and soot streaking across his bare shoulders.
After the meeting, everyone had gone their separate ways—Hina to her drills, Kuina to meditate, Makino to help with the village's orange harvest. Only Jin remained in the workshop, chasing perfection through fire and steel.
Five days passed in a blur of heat, steel, and sleeplessness.
Outside, Cocoyasi Village was alive with laughter and the sound of trade.
Bellemere wiped sweat from her brow as she stacked boxes of ripe oranges onto a cart. "Every year, this is what we work for," she said, cigarette between her lips, smiling at the bright-eyed villagers celebrating the harvest.
From the edge of the port, Makino watched quietly, a soft smile touching her lips. The scent of citrus hung in the humid air. "It's wonderful to see everyone smiling again," she murmured.
Bellemere exhaled a lazy puff of smoke. "Couldn't have happened without you people. If you hadn't taken down Arlong's crew, we'd still be living in fear."
Makino brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, modest as ever. "It was Jin's doing, really. We just helped."
Bellemere laughed. "Don't play it down. You all risked your lives."
Her eyes followed Makino's gaze toward the distant hill where the workshop stood, faint smoke curling above it.
"Looks like your captain's still at it," Bellemere noted. "You think he'll finish that thing soon?"
Makino's smile deepened. "Soon. Once Jin sets his mind on something… nothing in the world can stop him."
Inside the forge, the air shimmered with heat.
Jin lifted the crimson-hot blade from the coals and plunged it into a trough filled with thick, dark liquid—the preserved blood of a Sea King monarch, harvested from the creature's still-beating heart. The hiss that followed was deafening, almost alive.
Shhhh—!
The liquid roared as if resisting the intrusion, bubbling and thrashing. Steam filled the room, carrying the metallic tang of blood.
The blade trembled violently in Jin's hands.
"Easy…" he muttered, jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his neck. "You've endured a thousand strikes, a thousand burns… now take your final breath."
The forge's fire dimmed under the growing pulse of the blood trough. The blade's heat began to warp the liquid into vapor. Then—
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The sound wasn't from Jin's hammer—it was from the blade itself, beating against the metal basin like a living thing.
The blood boiled faster. The entire workshop seemed to breathe with it.
Minutes dragged into eternity. Finally, the liquid began to recede, evaporating into a mist of crimson light until all that remained was silence.
Jin stared down at the blackened weapon lying in the trough. His muscles ached, but his eyes gleamed. "It's done," he whispered. "Finally… done."
He reached in, fingers brushing the warm steel. For a moment, it pulsed under his touch like a heartbeat.
Then he drew it out.
The light from the forge washed over the weapon—and for the first time, Jin saw what he had created.
A long, straight blade, its surface as black as midnight, etched with intricate crimson veins that glowed faintly beneath the metal like liquid fire. The edge shimmered with a spectral light, sharp enough to slice through the air itself.
The guard was carved in the image of a roaring dragon, its mouth wide, clutching a violet gem between its fangs. The gemstone flickered with ghostly light, as if a soul slept within. The hilt wrapped in dark leather, the balance perfect, every inch of it radiating hunger.
The weapon breathed.
Jin's lips curved into a grin. "A black dragon… fitting."
He held it higher, admiring its terrible beauty. But then—
Thrum.
A deep vibration ran through the sword, humming against his palm. The air thickened, the temperature plummeted.
Jin's grin faded. "Don't tell me…"
Before he could react, a surge of killing intent erupted from the blade, slamming against him like a wave. It wasn't just pressure—it was hatred, raw and ancient, spilling out in red mist that swirled like smoke.
"You're resisting?" Jin's eyes narrowed, violet light flickering within them. "After all the effort I put into you?"
The blade screeched—a shrill, ringing cry that split the silence like thunder. Blood-colored energy flared across its edge.
Jin's veins bulged. "You dare defy me?"
He slammed the weapon point-first into the anvil.
CLANG!
The metal screamed. Sparks erupted, showering his bare torso with light. The black blade quivered violently, but Jin's grip didn't falter.
"Don't forget who forged you!" he snarled. "You exist because of me!"
The forge roared in answer. Wind surged from nowhere, tearing through the open windows. Outside, the sky darkened as clouds gathered unnaturally fast. Thunder cracked above the island.
The villagers below stopped what they were doing. Bellemere looked up, cigarette dropping from her lips. "What the hell…?"
Within minutes, the entire sky was swallowed by a storm.
Lightning flashed—and at its center, on the mountaintop, stood Jin Akasa, holding his new weapon against the raging heavens.
"Is this world seriously trying to smite a blade?" Jin growled, feeling the charge build in the air. His hair whipped violently in the wind. "It's just steel, damn it!"
The blade pulsed harder in his hands, trembling like a caged beast. Red light crawled up his arms, searing into his veins. It was trying to dominate him.
He bared his teeth. "You think you can control me?!"
His inner force exploded outward, violet aura clashing against the crimson miasma. The two energies met with a sound like thunderclaps, ripping the air apart.
Below, Makino could see it all from the village. The mountain itself was wrapped in a storm of red and purple light, spiraling into the sky. Her heart clenched. "Jin…"
She wanted to run toward him—but even from this distance, she could feel the pressure. The sheer weight of his energy was suffocating.
Up on the peak, Jin pushed harder, every muscle straining.
His voice was calm, but beneath it burned something primal. "You are mine," he whispered to the sword. "My blood gave you shape, my will gave you purpose. You will not dictate terms to me."
The blade screamed again—but this time, the sound wavered, faltered.
Jin drove more energy into it, his inner force surging like a tidal wave. The purple light enveloped the crimson entirely until, with a deafening crack, it shattered like glass.
The storm stopped.
For a heartbeat, everything went still—the air, the sound, even time itself.
Then the clouds began to clear.
When the light faded, Jin stood alone amid the ruins of his workshop, the blade buried halfway into the ground before him. His chest heaved, breath ragged, but his eyes burned with fierce triumph.
Slowly, he pulled the weapon free. The red glow had dimmed, replaced by a deep, steady pulse—subdued, obedient.
"Now that's better," he muttered, smirking faintly. "Knew you'd come around."
The wind carried the faintest whisper of steel—a tone almost… respectful.
Jin's smirk widened. "Guess even cursed blades know who their master is."
From the base of the hill, Makino finally dared to approach. She climbed through the debris, the scent of smoke and ozone thick in the air. When she reached him, she froze.
Jin stood bare-chested, framed by the fading storm, black blade in hand, his violet eyes gleaming under the sunlight that broke through the clouds.
Makino's breath caught. "You're insane," she whispered, half in awe, half in fear.
"Maybe," he said, voice hoarse but steady. "But it's done."
Her gaze fell to the weapon. "It feels… alive."
"It is," Jin said quietly. "But it listens now."
She hesitated, then stepped closer, close enough that her fingers brushed his arm. "Promise me it won't consume you."
He looked at her—tired, but smiling. "Not a chance. I forged it. I own it."
For a moment, they stood there—just the two of them, surrounded by wreckage and wind, the silence heavy with unspoken things.
Then Jin turned toward the sea, the blade resting against his shoulder. "It's done," he murmured again. "Now we can finally leave this ocean."
Makino smiled faintly. "The Grand Line, then?"
"The Grand Line," Jin confirmed, violet eyes gleaming. "Let's see if the world's ready."
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T/N :
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