Time slipped by quietly in the dull yet fulfilling cycle of daily sparring.
On the deserted island, the clash of steel rang out day after day, never truly stopping.
Clang.
Ace and Yoru slammed into each other once more, the black and red lightning bursting from the impact more violent than ever before.
Kael's wrist sank under the pressure. That razor sharp slash actually forced him half a step back.
He steadied himself and looked at the man standing opposite him, sword in hand, face utterly expressionless. His heart was equal parts impressed and exasperated.
Mihawk really was a monster born for the way of the sword.
In just a little over ten days, he had not only fully mastered Conqueror's coating, he had already begun to fuse it perfectly with his already peak level swordsmanship.
Now, every one of his swings carried an overbearing intent that seemed ready to cut through concepts themselves. Every now and then, the edge he released was something even Kael had to take seriously.
The only flaw was…
"Hey, you." Kael shook out his slightly numb wrist and could not stop himself from complaining. "Can you at least give your moves a name?"
"You always just go swoosh with one slash, every single time. Meanwhile I am over here yelling out cool move names like some hot blooded idiot. You are making me look dumb."
Mihawk lifted his hawk like eyes and gave him a calm glance, then silently raised Yoru again, answering with action instead of words.
"…"
Little hawk, is that it? Wings all grown in now?
Think you can starve your master after the disciple learns the craft?
Fine. Your teacher is going to remind you today who is in charge.
Leaving aside yet another round of violent sword trading between the two of them, time continued to move on. Kael made his way to the other side of the island.
Unlike the heat and fury over there, this side was so quiet it was almost eerie.
Moria was sitting cross legged on a jagged rock, his massive body casting a huge shadow.
He was not training his body or his Haki. He simply sat with his head lowered, staring at the shadow at his feet that stretched with the shifting sun, as if holding a silent conversation with a world made only of darkness.
Kael did not interrupt him. He leaned against a palm tree, watching with interest.
He knew Moria was standing at a critical bottleneck.
The Shadow Shadow Fruit had a terrifyingly high ceiling, but the way Moria had been using it so far, whether it was cutting shadows to make zombies or that shadow gathering field, always felt… a little off. Like the rough sketch of something that could be much more.
Kael was just wondering whether to give him a gentle little "traveler's shock" when Moria's low voice suddenly drifted out.
"The soul is the undying light and shadow…"
"The soul is like a shadow that clings to the body, yet it does not simply crawl passively at our feet."
"Shadow is the absence of light. The soul, though, is the light burning within. It reflects thought, drives will, carries memory."
"The brighter that inner radiance burns, the deeper and clearer the soul's shadow becomes. It faithfully mirrors what we are in this moment, yet always struggles at the boundary between light and dark, trying to stretch beyond the outline of the present."
"A true soul does not vanish in darkness or under blinding light. It carves its own eternal mark in the shifting borderlands of light and shadow, a record of struggle and transcendence unique to each person."
The relaxed ease on Kael's face slowly faded, replaced by naked surprise.
Who are you and what have you done with Moria?
He had not expected Moria of all people to have such a profound philosophical take on "soul" and "shadow."
This was no longer just Devil Fruit development. He was groping toward a kind of "law."
Damn. Concept level? I, Kael Grylls, formally report someone for cheating.
At that exact moment, a hapless seagull squawked overhead, skimming low across the beach.
Moria suddenly lifted his head. A terrifying light flashed in his eyes.
Whoosh.
A jet black shadow shot out from beneath his feet like a venomous snake, fast as lightning. It curled around the seagull's neck and gave the lightest twist.
The bird did not even have time to scream. It simply dropped out of the air and hit the sand in front of Moria with a dull thud, life snuffed out instantly.
Kael frowned slightly and drew breath to say something.
The next second, he saw something that he would never forget for the rest of his life.
Moria slowly rose to his feet and looked down at the seagull's corpse from on high. His voice was solemn, heavy, tinged with a king's unquestionable decree.
"…Stand up."
Pff.
Kael sprayed the water he had just drunk, coughing violently as he choked.
What the hell. What the hell what the hell.
The Shadow Monarch is right next to me?!
In his vision, the dead seagull's shadow began to roil and twist wildly.
A moment later, a silhouette formed from pure darkness began to "stand up" from that two dimensional shadow, emerging into three dimensions before his eyes.
The shadow seagull flapped its wings and let out a shrill cry. Two ghostly blue flames burned where its eyes should have been.
Kael could clearly sense it. This was not some simple shadow morph or puppet trick.
Inside that shadow seagull, there was a faint but genuine independent awareness, a true "soul body," however weak.
In the end, the soul of a seagull was still too fragile.
The construct forged from shadow and soul fragments lasted less than ten seconds before letting out a mournful screech and collapsing back into a pool of blackness, returning to calm.
The attempt had failed, but there was no frustration on Moria's face.
He stared at his open hands, eyes blazing brighter than ever, his whole body trembling faintly from sheer excitement.
He had found it.
He had finally found his own, unique path.
…
Kael felt a little emo.
He lay sprawled on the villa roof with his hands pillowed behind his head, a dogtail grass stem between his teeth, staring lazily up at the sky.
Not far away, Mihawk was practicing his swings.
He was simply repeating the most basic cuts, thrusts, and sweeps. Every motion looked plain and unadorned, yet there was a sense of returning to the origin hidden within them.
But Kael knew very well that his sword now was nothing like it had been half a month ago.
The will coiling along that edge was no longer just something extra tacked on. It had become one with the sword itself, inseparable.
At this point, even if he picked up a tree branch, Mihawk could unleash an attack that would genuinely threaten Kael.
Yeah… years from now, when he meets Roronoa Zoro, he really will be able to say, "Sorry. I could not find a smaller toothpick."
On the other side of the island, Moria's aura grew deeper and stranger by the day.
Ever since he grasped the idea of a "shadow of the soul," he had turned into a complete shut in.
He locked himself away in a damp cave all day, muttering what sounded like philosophical incantations under his breath.
Was this the correction force of fate? Damn you, world will.
A sword genius and a shadow monarch.
His two "training partners" were both absurd in their own ways, each racing down their own path toward the peak.
And himself?
These days of constant sparring had indeed sharpened his experience and polish. But that kind of leap where you climb past your own limits had not come.
"Haah…"
His long sigh was heavy with the loneliness and boredom of the strong.
"Forget it. Out of sight, out of mind. I will take a vacation."
…
In the East Blue, Foosha Village.
The place was as peaceful as ever. The sea breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean mixed with the fresh scent of grass as it swept by the village's only bar.
Beside the bar stood a small flower shop. The doorway was lined with sunflowers, each bloom turning toward the light.
A gentle, beautiful woman sat in a rocking chair at the threshold, cradling a baby in her arms as she hummed a lullaby.
The sunlight brushed her long pink hair with warm gold, and she seemed to glow with a soft, maternal radiance.
The baby in her arms slept soundly. A few tiny freckles dotted his little face, only making him look cuter.
"Rouge sis!"
A little girl with short green hair, about seven or eight years old, came trotting over with a glass of milk in her hands, smiling brightly.
"This is for you and the baby."
"Thank you, Makino." Rouge lifted her head, smiling so gently it could melt snow. "You really are such a good child."
"Hee hee. Ace is being really good today too." Makino rose on tiptoe and very carefully poked the baby's soft cheek.
Villagers passing by slowed their steps to greet them warmly.
"Rouge, lovely weather today."
"It is. I brought Ace out to get some sun."
"He is growing so fast. Looks more and more like you every day."
Rouge responded to each of them with a smile, her eyes full of contentment that could not be hidden.
Just then, she spotted a familiar figure in the distance. Her smile brightened even more.
"Kael. You are here."
"Yo." Kael strolled over with an easy grin and sat down on the step beside the rocking chair like he had done it a hundred times.
"Rouge sis, you are looking great today."
His gaze dropped to the baby in her arms. He could not resist reaching over to pinch that plump little cheek.
"Little Ace is looking lively too."
As if sensing something, the baby smacked his lips in his sleep and closed his tiny fingers around Kael's offered hand.
Kael still remembered the day Rouge had gone into labor, how he had paced outside the birthing room like an ant on a hot pan, more anxious than Roger himself.
Especially since Roger was no longer around.
Roger had been a good captain and a good older brother. What he had not been was a good husband or a good father.
Fortunately, everything had gone well.
Because of Kael's interference, Rouge had never had to take that life burning drug to carry Ace for an extra ten months. She had survived. She was alive and healthy.
Ace too would have the one thing he had been denied in the original history: a complete childhood.
Kael pulled himself from his thoughts and looked at Rouge's genuine, radiant smile, then down at the sleeping baby in her arms.
All of a sudden, his earlier anxiety over his own slow growth in strength felt almost laughable.
Defeating powerful enemies and standing atop the world was one kind of strength.
But being able to personally protect a hard won happiness like this, to erase tragedies that were supposed to happen before they ever took shape, how was that not a strength even more worthy of pride?
The sun was warm, the breeze gentle.
Without realizing it, the corners of Kael's mouth lifted. In those golden eyes of his was reflected the most beautiful scene this world could offer.
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