"Even if you die climbing to the top... that's the most romantic thing for a swordsman."
"That about sums it up, doesn't it?"
"Brother."
Gawain lifted the corners of his lips into a faint smile.
"Yeah. That about sums it up."
Then his tone sharpened.
"But what comes next… that's the captain's duty."
Gawain quickly stepped forward, kneeling beside Zoro to examine his wounds. After a brief inspection, he exhaled in relief.
A blade had pierced the reopened wound in Zoro's chest—but it wasn't deep.
Hawkeye's slash, descending from above, had almost split Zoro in two. But the blow had been held back—no bones were broken, no vital organs damaged.
With Zoro's physical resilience, a few weeks of rest would be enough.
Gawain gently lifted him and turned to Zeff.
"Old man, could you have the ship's doctor patch him up?"
Zeff nodded and took Zoro from Gawain's arms.
Gawain turned again—this time to face Hawkeye.
His expression grew solemn.
There stood the peak of the world's swordsmanship—a man who had dueled with Red-Haired Shanks for years, and even in the art of the sword, surpassed him.
A living legend.
Compared to Hawkeye's might, Gawain had only just broken into Silver rank—two major stages apart.
In this world, even among warriors of the same tier, the gap between the strong and the weak could mean instant defeat.
Let alone someone like Hawkeye.
In this fight, it wasn't about victory.
It was about survival.
And that depended entirely on Hawkeye's whim.
Yet despite it all, Gawain's heart was calm. His face steady.
No choice? Then do your best. That had always been his belief.
He turned back to Zeff and said,
"If I die here… go to Para Island. Ask the pirates there for the money I owe you."
Zeff snorted, stroking his beard.
Once, he'd been prejudiced against Gawain—thanks to Sanji.
But now… this man didn't seem like the kind to run from responsibility.
"Don't go dying, boy. I'm still expecting you to pay in person."
Gawain chuckled wearily.
"Facing someone like him? Can't make any promises."
Zeff's expression didn't change. He leaned in and muttered:
"Your crew's safe. They're all in the storage room."
"Thanks."
Gawain nodded gratefully, then turned to Sanji, who had been standing silently nearby.
"Brother, ever think of joining my crew? I could use a proper chef."
Sanji was caught off guard. A flicker of anger crossed his face—but it faded just as quickly.
If this man dies here... will I never learn the truth?
"Tch… Hey!"
He opened his mouth but didn't say what he was really thinking.
"Don't die, you bastard."
Gawain gave him a lopsided grin.
"If I live, you're coming with me. I'm done eating that swill my crew calls food."
"Who the hell said I'd join your crew, bastard?!"
"Heh~"
Gawain smiled again—unbothered—and turned toward the deck.
A few steps later, he stood across from Hawkeye.
For a moment, the world stilled.
No one dared speak.
Even the sea seemed to quiet in anticipation.
A few seagulls passed overhead—but before they could dive for fish, they froze mid-air and veered upward in fright. A few feathers drifted down, touching the ocean's surface.
Clang!
A sharp metallic ring echoed as Seikō Masamune was drawn.
The silver-white blade gleamed red beneath the setting sun.
Opposite him, Hawkeye stood still, his black sword in hand, a faint smile playing at his lips.
"That presence… you're even more remarkable than I expected. So remarkable, I'm almost hesitant to pluck this unripe fruit just yet."
His voice turned cold.
"But you made one mistake… bringing Roronoa here today."
"Did I?"
Gawain's voice remained steady.
"If I hadn't, he'd hate me forever. Besides, you came here for me, didn't you?"
"I didn't come to save anyone. They got caught up in my fight."
Hawkeye didn't respond. He simply stared at Gawain, expression unreadable.
"It's been a long time… since I've met a real swordsman."
"In the New World, there are many who are stronger than you or Roronoa. But few have the courage to throw their lives away for their blade."
"Too many cry. Too many beg. But you... you know you'll lose—and still, you draw your sword."
"That's thrilling."
"Even this one—" he glanced at the blade in his hand, "—is eager for your blood."
Gawain's gaze dropped to the black blade. The very same one that had struck Zoro—and yet bore not a speck of blood.
"So that's... a black blade?"
"You know of them?"
Hawkeye raised an eyebrow.
"Any sword can become one. If it's tempered in enough faith... and forged through will."
"Yours could, too."
Gawain grinned, battle-lust radiating from his frame.
"No point in talking anymore, then. Let me see—what the world's best swordsman can do!"
As his words fell, the deck beneath his feet exploded.
A blur—Gawain vanished. His newly mastered Flash Step carried him forward with staggering speed.
Before the sound of the deck cracking reached anyone's ears, Gawain was already in front of Hawkeye.
The crimson blade, dyed red by the sunset, pierced forward.
"Flash Fang!"
His fastest, most powerful thrust to date.
Driven by Flash Step, the strike was several times faster than anything he had shown back in Raven Harbor.
His skills had grown immensely over time.
And this move—this move could deal damage even to someone stronger than him.
But—
"Fast sword, huh?"
Hawkeye murmured.
There was genuine admiration in his voice—but his body didn't falter.
In a blink, his own blade darted forward.
Black and red.
The tips collided with pinpoint precision.
BOOM!
The force of their clash rippled through the deck, shaking the entire Baratie. The wooden platform beneath them groaned, sinking slightly under the pressure. The extended platform cracked down the middle, and Gawain was sent flying back, the deck beneath his feet splintering as he landed several meters away.
"What just happened?!"
People struggled to stay on their feet, faces filled with confusion and shock.
In a split second, the deck had been destroyed.
On one side, Gawain stood, face solemn.
On the other, Hawkeye remained calm and composed.
And in that moment, everyone watching realized a terrifying truth: