Chapter 115: Hawk-Eye's Opponent

“You’re leaving?” Garen’s expression shifted slightly.

“Of course.” Mihawk cast a sharp glance at Garen, as if seeing right through him.

“I have no interest in getting involved in your feud with Crocodile.”

“You...” Garen couldn’t help but offer an awkward smile. “Aren’t you going to practice your swordsmanship a bit more?”

Mihawk fell silent for a moment, then sighed softly. “Your Devil Fruit ability is indeed unusual.”

“I’ve been pushing myself these past few days, trying to break my limits, but I’m still powerless against that one sword technique of yours.”

“Well...” Garen opened his mouth to persuade Hawk-Eye to stay, but Mihawk continued without hesitation: “That’s enough.”

In Mihawk’s hawk-like, piercing eyes suddenly blazed with a spirited, fearless passion.

“Knowing there’s something in this world I cannot cut through—that’s enough.”

Mihawk had stood at the pinnacle of swordsmen for so many years that he had almost forgotten what it felt like for his blade to be blocked. His swordsmanship had stagnated, frozen at the highest peak known to man. Knowing there existed an indomitable “strongest shield” in the world, Hawk-Eye’s “strongest spear” could now be sharpened even further.

Mihawk turned back to Garen and said, “I will come back for you.”

“When that time comes, I will surely cut through your greatsword.”

“Haha...” Garen chuckled nervously, jokingly saying, “Aren’t you worried that by the time you return, I’ll be tossed into the rainy harbor, feeding the fish?”

Perhaps intrigued by this, the normally cold and sword-like Mihawk became somewhat more talkative. Hearing Garen’s words, Mihawk replied dismissively, “If you didn’t have the ability to protect yourself from Crocodile, you wouldn’t have dared to come all the way here from the East Blue.”

Garen nodded slightly, a confident smile spreading across his face. From what he recalled of Crocodile’s combat style, he had no reason to fear that water-wielding sand crocodile who couldn’t even use Haki.

“And...” Mihawk cast a cold glance at Garen. “After I leave, you are not allowed to run.”

“If you don’t have the courage to swing your sword against the strong, then living is a waste of your ability and an insult to my expectations of you.”

Mihawk’s voice carried a faint trace of killing intent, his gaze radiating imposing authority. “Do you remember what I taught you these past days?”

“Y-Yes! I remember!” Garen nodded eagerly.

That was none other than the swordsmanship guidance of Hawk-Eye Mihawk himself, and naturally, Garen treasured it deeply. He had recorded it alongside the “Whirlwind Slash” and “Moon Step” techniques taught by Karp in the same notebook. Thus, a martial arts manual was born from Garen’s hands in the world of pirates.

For reasons unknown, after witnessing the true swordsmanship level of the “One-Path Swordmaster” Garen, Mihawk did not rage and cut him to pieces. Instead, he willingly imparted the flying slash technique exclusive to true swordmasters, along with some of his own sword theory, to Garen.

Garen’s physical strength was already on par with ordinary swordmasters. With Mihawk’s hands-on guidance, within just a few days he mastered the flying slash technique, able to cut through metal and stone with fierce sword energy without relying on system skills.

Garen never understood Mihawk’s true intentions, only feeling immense gratitude for his teaching.

At the moment of parting, Garen respectfully uttered a heartfelt “Thank you!”

“No need to thank me,” Mihawk replied decisively, his cold tone unsoftened.

“You, this so-called ‘One-Path Swordmaster,’ are undeserving of the title—a third-rate fighter who rose to fame by relying on a Devil Fruit ability.”

“What I despise most are swordsmen like you who rely on Devil Fruit powers and forget the blade itself!”

Mihawk’s words were sharp, his icy tone making Garen want to turn and flee.

“But...” Mihawk sighed lightly again, “I never imagined that such a Devil Fruit would exist in this world.”

“Unparalleled control over the blade—this is a power many great swordmasters dream of.”

Slashing is just slashing; swordsmanship is not some mystical art. Tales of great swordmasters having sudden enlightenment and becoming invincible are just stories. Concepts like sword intent, sword soul, and sword spirit are merely fantasies conjured by enthusiasts. Those who speak of such things are rarely swordsmen themselves.

The true power of swordsmanship depends primarily on the swordsman’s own strength and their precise control over that strength.

Strength can be increased through arduous training, but control is the harder part.

Only with sufficient control can one master the form and power of their strikes.

And those who can fully realize the form and power of their slashes are the swordmasters worthy of reverence.

Dasuki was initially fascinated by Garen’s uncanny accuracy—every slash hitting its mark. What moved Mihawk was Garen’s control over his power.

Due to his digitized body, Garen was like an exquisitely precise instrument, able to regulate his output between zero and the threshold with exactness.

At full power, he could split mountains and shatter stones; with careful control, he could strike without causing the slightest harm.

To Garen, accustomed to such control, this was nothing extraordinary. But to the great swordmaster Mihawk, it was a masterful skill akin to a chef dissecting an ox with supreme finesse.

Mihawk had honed this absolute control through years of relentless sword training and countless battles.

Yet Garen, a half-baked swordsman, had gained such ability early on thanks to his Devil Fruit power.

“This is the most suitable Devil Fruit for a swordsman, a power countless swordmasters long for!” Mihawk exclaimed before Garen.

“If you dedicate yourself to training, becoming a great swordmaster beyond ordinary reach will be merely a matter of time.”

“Don’t waste it!”

Mihawk’s eyes brimmed with expectation as he finally revealed his true purpose: “I taught you swordsmanship to help you fully realize your talent.”

“Hurry and grow strong, then...”

In Mihawk’s amber eyes suddenly flickered a flame—the passion he hadn’t felt for a long time.

“Become my rival!”

Having only just mastered the flying slash and feeling proud, Garen never expected such lofty expectations from Hawk-Eye.

“I...” Garen’s voice caught in his throat, but a fierce ambition blazed in his chest.

Unlike before when he feigned composure, Garen now spoke with the utmost sincerity, shouting three resounding words:

“I will!”

“Let’s hope so.”

After stirring Garen’s spirit, Mihawk quickly returned to his usual icy indifference. He lowered the brim of his broad hat, turned slowly, and left behind a sharp gaze that pierced the soul:

“Otherwise...”

“I will kill you myself.”

With that, Mihawk strode away, leaving Garen and the others with a graceful and imposing silhouette.

Like an eagle spreading its wings to return to the sky, all that remained was for people to look up from the ground.

.............................................................

Rain Banquet Casino, Crocodile’s office.

“Hawk-Eye has left.”

Robin dutifully reported the latest news to her boss.

“It seems that the Seven Warlord has no interest in meddling in the feud between us and Garen.”

“Hm.”

Crocodile nodded slightly and fell silent. The thick cigar smoke he exhaled betrayed the lingering gloom in his heart.

Robin frowned, puzzled. “You seem displeased?”

Crocodile remained thoughtful and silent.

Robin, who was usually adept at reading people, suddenly found herself unable to understand her boss’s thoughts, which made her feel less secure than usual.

So she cautiously probed again: “Their greatest asset is gone. Do we still need to negotiate terms with him?”

Robin knew Crocodile’s character well: greedy, ruthless, and arrogant.

For him, sitting down to negotiate was itself an unbearable humiliation.

“I want it all” was his usual stance.

Crocodile still said nothing, his mind recalling the grand scene of Mihawk and Garen training together in swordsmanship.

Then, with a sullen expression, Crocodile said, “Let’s still have a proper talk first...”