One Piece: I Am The Greatest Swordsman

The sea breeze drifted gently. Seagulls cried overhead. The sun blazed fiercely today, distorting the air with its heat. The breeze carried a faint stickiness and did little to dispel the oppressive warmth clinging to the skin.

In Shimotsuki (Frost Moon) Village, the Chris had just docked. The port seemed recently repaired, giving off a fresh, new feeling.

Near the harbor stood a small cottage with an old man inside. Beside the cottage was a massive bell, and a wide road led further inland into the island. The old man glanced up at the ship's sail, noting the bold words "Rescue Ship." Though curious, he didn't bother too much—as long as they weren't pirates, he saw no need to interfere.

"Ah, nothing beats solid ground underfoot."

After three days at sea, Weiss and his companions had finally arrived at Shimotsuki Village. Standing at the shoreline, Weiss stretched lazily. Life on the ship had been painfully dull.

"Oh, come on, Weiss. You're acting like you just crossed half the Grand Line. It's only been a few days. What would you do if we went a whole month without seeing an island?" Ace couldn't help but poke fun at Weiss.

"A month without land? That'd be your luck, not mine. Didn't the Marines just check a map and find one immediately? Don't blame fate when you're the problem."

"Alright, enough talking. Let's go. There's an exciting battle waiting ahead!"

With blood boiling at the thought of a fight, Weiss strode toward the inland road, Ace and Deuce following behind.

Their goals differed. Ace and Deuce planned to see if the island had any ships for sale or at least some information. Weiss, on the other hand, was headed straight to the Isshin Dojo—for a good old-fashioned challenge.

Back on the ship, Jack and Kadun had transformed into training machines, tirelessly practicing and serving as the ship's guardians.

"Excuse me, sir, could you tell me how to get to the Isshin Dojo?"

Weiss approached the old man by the cottage. Locals were always better guides than wandering blindly.

The old man noticed the sword at Weiss's waist, then looked up at his bright, cheerful smile. Sunny disposition, well-kept weapon—it didn't look like he was a bad sort.

"You're here for Koushirou, aren't you? Just follow this path. You'll see a bunch of kids swinging wooden swords around. Ask them to take you there."

"Much appreciated, old sir," Weiss said, keeping his polite smile.

Behind him, Ace chimed in, "Hey, sir, is there a shipyard nearby? I'm looking to buy a ship."

The old man thought for a moment, glanced at Weiss, then said, "No shipyards here, but ask around the village. I recall Old Jerry at the far end has an old merchant ship he's trying to sell."

Ace bowed in thanks.

"Weiss, I'll take Deuce and go check if that ship's still there."

"Got it."

Weiss gave a casual reply and strolled deeper inland, humming a tune. The chirping of cicadas filled the air—after over ten monotonous days at sea, the buzzing didn't feel annoying. It was oddly pleasant.

Dappled sunlight spilled through the trees, casting shifting patches of light and shadow on the road. It wasn't long before the sound of wooden swords clashing drifted into his ears. Faint, but clear to a trained martial artist.

He turned a corner and saw a group of kids dueling with wooden swords. A few girls watched from the side.

No sign of the familiar moss-green hair he expected—Zoro was likely older now, no longer training with these brats. He was probably off somewhere training alone.

"Excuse me, do you know how to get to the Isshin Dojo?"

Weiss offered a warm smile, thinking he looked quite friendly.

The kids paused, glancing among themselves and then up at the sweaty stranger. The heat and their exertion had them all drenched.

"Are you here to challenge Master Koushirou?"

A snot-nosed boy gripped his wooden sword tightly.

"That's right! I've come to spar with Mr. Koushirou."

Weiss responded patiently—he seemed to have a soft spot for kids.

"Then you'll have to beat me first! Brother Zoro isn't here today, so I'm in charge!"

The snotty boy twirled his eyes mischievously and pointed his sword at Weiss.

Weiss nearly burst out laughing at the challenge, but kept a straight face.

"Oh? You've drawn your sword. Are you prepared to risk your life, little swordsman?"

The boy froze. His eyes went wide, then lit up with joy. He spun around and dashed off yelling,

"Master Koushirou! Someone called me a little swordsman! Give me a real sword already—I don't need a wooden one anymore!"

As he ran off, the rest of the kids scrambled after him, like a flock of startled birds. Weiss stood dumbfounded in the wind, dry leaves swirling around his feet, whispering secrets only nature could understand.

"Wait a minute… Did I just get played?"

Weiss muttered, dark lines forming across his face. He followed the kids using Observation Haki to keep track of them.

As he walked, he casually glanced behind him. A shadow darted through the grass—someone else was also heading toward the mountain behind Shimotsuki Village.

Fifteen minutes later, Weiss arrived at a large compound. The sign above the gate read Isshin Dojo. Even from outside, he could hear the rhythmic hiya! cries from within. No doubt, a proper sword training ground.

Martial arts were still strong here. After all, this was the world of pirates—strength was a must.

"Sensei! That's the guy who called me a little swordsman!"

The snot-nosed boy ran back, dragging along a man in a kimono, wooden sandals clacking on the stone path, glasses perched neatly on his nose. It was Koushirou.

Koushirou gave Weiss a gentle smile and bowed.

"Apologies. My little apprentice must've disturbed you."

"Not at all. He's an amusing kid. Has potential in swordsmanship too."

"He does have some talent. But he keeps pestering me about using a real sword. I got tired of saying no, so I made a deal: if someone acknowledged him as a swordsman after his challenge, I'd grant the request."

Koushirou chuckled, clearly a little exasperated.

Weiss was genuinely surprised. In the original story, Koushirou remained composed even after Kuina's death. For a child to wear him down with sheer persistence… that kid was something else.

Besides, there were no other sword schools in Shimotsuki Village. Every swordsman trained here. The boy had no real chance of succeeding—he'd be stuck with a wooden sword until he earned the right to wield a real one.

"That's my bad, then," Weiss apologized sincerely. He turned to the boy and said,

"If you use a real sword during training, you might hurt your friends. Are you sure you still want one?"

The boy thought for a moment.

"I'll only use it when I train alone. When I'm sparring with my friends, I'll stick to wood. I'm not afraid of getting hurt myself."

Weiss raised an eyebrow.

Now there's a kid with sharp instincts.

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Currently at chapter 220 on Ko-Fi

https:// ko-fi.com/sami27