Bang—!
Kōta’s figure appeared in the open space in front of Mihawk.
His legs bent, and the stones beneath his feet instantly shattered, causing him to sink.
Feeling the power from Zankō, veins bulged on Kōta’s forehead, and his arms instantly thickened.
He stood upright against the night, watching the ceaseless trembling of "Yoru’s" blade and the distorted air around the edge. He grinned and let out a laugh.
“Hahahahahaha!!”
“So this guy’s slash isn’t just a basic attack!”
His slash was merely his own unique attack, unleashed by utilizing the black blade Yoru.
He had seen this kind of air-distorting slash from Zoro in his previous life.
He figured Mihawk must have taught Zoro his swordsmanship.
It was just that Mihawk’s slash was even more powerful and stronger than Zoro’s.
In truth, it was very simple to know if this guy had truly reached the level he imagined.
That was to force this guy to use sword techniques.
Sword techniques couldn’t be discerned in long-range slashes, but he would definitely be able to sense them in close combat.
With that thought, he exerted upward force with his right hand.
Clang—!
He deflected Yoru, then quickly spun to the right. His left side faced Mihawk, his right hand retracted, brought the sword before his eyes, his left hand grasped the hilt, and he held the sword with both hands.
Then, he turned his head to stare at Mihawk, rotated his body to the left, stepped forward with his right foot, swung Zankō in a semicircle, and slashed forward rapidly.
“One Sword Style: Tsubame Gaeshi!”
“Huh?”
Mihawk was pushed back a step by the power emanating from Kōta’s blade.
When he regained his footing and looked ahead.
He was suddenly captivated by the three sword lights before his eyes.
“This must be the slash that wounded Kizaru!”
Feeling a bone-chilling coldness from his neck, chest, and lower body simultaneously, Mihawk’s pupils contracted, and a scarlet light blazed in his eyes.
“Three swords, all real.”
This was what he saw.
His Kenbunshoku Haki had reached an extremely high level. Although it lacked any special abilities, combined with his naturally sharp eyes that could discern the essence of things, his eyes had gained the ability to see through all things.
He called this ability "Eagle Eye."
Eagle Eye not only perfected his swordsmanship but also granted him the divine essence to contend with any enemy’s power.
“One sword, three slashes?”
Mihawk stared at Zankō, which had completely vanished, as if he were seeing the real Zankō.
He quickly sheathed his sword and then slashed out with force.
The same one sword, three slashes.
Clang clang clang!!
Then, out of the three sounds, only one remained.
Clang—!
The sword lights disappeared, and the blades of Zankō and Yoru collided once more.
Kōta withstood the shockwave, his silver hair wildly whipping backward, his eyes narrowed, staring intently at Mihawk’s eyes.
“He saw through the essence of his swordsmanship with a single glance and then replicated it so quickly.”
“What the hell is this?”
“You’ve noticed?”
Mihawk stared at Kōta, noting the confusion in Kōta’s eyes, and smiled, “My eyes can easily see through the essence of all things, so all your swordsmanship is revealed to me without any secrets.”
“Is this the essence of this guy’s power?”
Kōta stared at Mihawk, his eyes flickering with understanding. No wonder this guy never used flashy sword techniques; it turned out he knew them all!
He had thought this guy had reached the realm he imagined.
Indeed, how could anyone reach that realm? That was not the realm of humans, but of gods.
From their brief exchange, their sword-swinging speeds were about the same, and their Kenbunshoku Haki was also evenly matched.
However, this guy’s Busoshoku Haki was significantly stronger than his, but that was not a problem.
The most troublesome thing was this guy’s eyes. His eyes rendered Kōta’s sword swings completely devoid of secrets, turning his attacks into mere flailing.
“Truly a monster!”
This guy’s eyes were the bane of anyone who relied on technique to fight.
Unless the difference in strength was too great, or the speed exceeded his, then one could only try to outlast him in a battle of endurance.
Because no matter how skilled the swordsmanship, it held no secrets in this guy’s eyes.
Judging from his extremely long-range slashes, this guy’s stamina was also monstrous.
There were no flaws.
“No wonder he’s called the World’s Strongest Swordsman.”
At this moment, he definitely couldn’t defeat Mihawk using only swordsmanship, but he didn’t want to use his spatial abilities.
After all, this was just a sparring match.
Forget it, he’d go as far as he could.
His body was still growing rapidly, and he had Conqueror’s Haki. He believed that before long, he would surpass Mihawk in both physical strength and swordsmanship.
Because this guy didn’t possess Conqueror’s Haki.
When he could truly achieve the entanglement of Conqueror’s Haki, that would be the day this guy would abdicate his throne as number one.
For now…
He would enjoy the battle to his heart’s content!
He’d think about being number one later.
He forcefully repelled Yoru’s blade and jumped back.
He landed lightly on the ground, withdrew his left hand, and swung his right hand downward.
He held his sword diagonally.
Then, he pulled the wine gourd from his waist with his left hand, tilted his head back, and took a deep drink.
Gulp, gulp, gulp!!
“Hoo~”
Kōta lowered the gourd, shook his head, and exhaled a breath of strong wine aroma.
“Refreshing~”
He then hung the wine gourd back at his waist. His right hand moved down, Zankō was planted in the ground, and then his hands slipped into his sleeves. The upper part of his moon-white robe slid down, revealing his sturdy, bronze-like physique underneath.
“Alright, warm-up is over. Let’s have a proper fight now!”
Kōta stared at Mihawk, let out a light chuckle, extended his right hand, and drew Zankō.
“I was thinking the same.”
Mihawk stared at Kōta, reached up, took off his hat, and tossed it aside. With a skillful flick of his wrist, it spun rapidly and hooked onto a branch of a distant tree.
“Come on!”
Mihawk gripped his sword with both hands, staring at Kōta, excitement glinting in his eyes.
This was the main purpose of their sparring match.
He had sat on the throne of number one for too long.
For someone obsessed with the sword, having no opponent was too lonely.
He relished the feeling of sparring with other swordsmen, because only between swordsmen could one be fully focused, as a single mistake could lead to being struck by the opponent.
Blades were, after all, merciless!
This feeling of probing the edge of death at all times was the most intoxicating and the most conducive to growth.
He had been searching for an opponent for years, but to no avail.
The swordsmen on the Grand Line were either too far behind him in strength, unable to even withstand one of his slashes, or they could block his attacks but couldn't sustain a long battle with him.
That was why he was so excited by Kōta’s appearance.
Because in Kōta, he saw the possibility of surpassing him. This possibility was not a mere fantasy but something he genuinely saw and felt.
Clang—!
Zankō and Yoru collided for the third time, then quickly separated, then collided again, then separated.
This cycle repeated.
Between the flashes of sword light, the swords themselves were invisible. Only two black streaks of light could be seen, incessantly weaving, separating, and weaving again.
Sparks flew.
Along with the sound of collisions, waves of shockwaves spread out.
The shockwaves were like tidal waves, one after another, pushing the trees and wild grass on the island, bending them outward from the center of their battle.
As the two continued to fight, the shockwaves even surged beyond the island, stirring up real waves on the nearby sea.
Hurricanes raged, whitecaps churned, and even the clouds in the sky began to roil.
Looking from afar, it was impossible to distinguish the sea from the sky.