Chapter 7 – The Test, and an Extraordinary Sword Style!
"Yoriichi, the entrance requirements for the Naval Academy are extremely strict," Zephyr said.
"Only those whose Doriki that's the measure of one's physical power reaches at least eighty are qualified to study here."
"Do you know what that number means? The average trained adult male has a Doriki of only ten!""For an ordinary person, reaching eighty would already make you a superhuman!"
As he spoke, Zephyr's face broke into a wide grin, his pride impossible to hide.
He might have been a battle-hardened former admiral, but when it came to talking about his students and his academy, he suddenly resembled an overexcited child showing off his report card beaming with enthusiasm and pride.
"Come on, come on! I'll show you around!"
Saying that, Zephyr led Yoriichi to the edge of the training grounds, sweeping his gaze across the vast campus as he began his introductions.
"See that? That's the shooting range! Every graduate of our academy is a crack marksman!"
"And over there that field is used for hand-to-hand combat drills! Every one of our graduates leaves as a master of close combat!"
"And that building there, that's the dojo students there are guided by professional sword instructors. Every cadet who's trained there"
Before Zephyr could finish, Yoriichi interjected with a faint smile:
"has become a great swordsman, right?"
Zephyr, caught mid-sentence, froze for a moment, scratching his chin with a slightly embarrassed look.
"Well, not exactly great swordsmen," he admitted awkwardly. Then, just as quickly, he recovered his jovial tone.
"But! They do leave with a solid foundation to become one!"
"Hahahahaha!"
Zephyr burst out laughing heartily.
Yoriichi gave him a sidelong glance, half amused. It was the first time he'd realized that Zephyr had such a boastful streak. If not for his vague understanding of how strength was ranked in this world, he might have been fooled by the grand picture Zephyr was painting.
Great swordsmen? he thought. There are only a handful of those in the entire world.
As far as he knew, the Marines didn't have anyone who truly qualified as one.
Still, Yoriichi didn't find Zephyr's exaggeration unpleasant. The middle-aged man's deep pride in the Marines, and his hopeful words about the future, filled Yoriichi with a quiet warmth he hadn't felt in a long, long time.
In the world of demons, he had never once known this kind of peace.
Even after Yoriichi's teasing interruption, Zephyr went on cheerfully explaining every aspect of the academy, his gestures animated, his expression bright. Watching him, Yoriichi found himself momentarily lost in thought.
After listening for a while, Yoriichi noticed Zephyr's tone beginning to slow, and he pointed toward the dojo the man had mentioned earlier.
"Teacher Zephyr," he said, "could we take a look at that dojo?"
Zephyr looked down at the boy beside him, noticing the long blade he carried in his hand. With a smile, he nodded.
"Of course! Let's go."
"Actually, it's perfect timing you can test your Doriki there as well."
"I've been curious to see what kind of kid managed to make Garp bring him all the way back to Marineford."
With that, the two walked across the training field toward the distant dojo.
The sight of the pair a towering veteran admiral and a red-haired boy with a sword at his waist—quickly drew the attention of the cadets training nearby.
"Eh? Who's that kid with Teacher Zephyr? Never seen him before!"
"A relative maybe? Or a new student?"
"Idiot, Teacher Zephyr doesn't have any relatives! And enrollment season's already over! That brat's way too young anyway!"
Ignoring the chatter from the cadets, Zephyr led Yoriichi straight to the front of the dojo.
From afar, the building hadn't looked all that big, but standing before it now, Yoriichi realized how wrong he'd been.
The dojo before them spanned several thousand square meters. After removing their shoes and stepping inside, Yoriichi took in the sight rows of long racks lined every wall, each holding dozens of bamboo swords. There had to be at least a thousand of them.
The structure itself was a kind of modified Japanese-style building. Support pillars stood neatly spaced throughout, dividing the vast interior into dozens of smaller training areas each several dozen square meters in size.
It looked like the dojo could easily accommodate three hundred people training at once.
Yoriichi couldn't remember how many years it had been since he'd last set foot in such a place.
Ever since he'd left the Tsugikuni household to begin his hunt against demons, he had never again stepped into a dojo like this.
The familiar yet foreign atmosphere stirred something deep within him. For a moment, he simply stood there, dazed.
Zephyr mistook his silence for awe. Smiling proudly, he casually grabbed a bamboo sword from the rack near the door, walked to the center of the floor, and suddenly called out:
"Yoriichi! Care for a little practice?"
"I heard from Garp that you're quite handy with a sword!"
"My swordsmanship's nothing special but it's decent enough. So? What do you say? Up for a bout?"
Yoriichi's thoughts snapped back to the present. Seeing Zephyr's eager expression, he nodded without hesitation. He was more than willing to spar.
Truth be told, since coming to this world, he hadn't yet developed a clear sense of his own strength.
Back on that island, he'd easily slain a giant beast but Yoriichi knew such a thing wasn't much of a measure.
Even the young Luffy, fresh out to sea, could take down a Sea King with little effort.
His second real battle had been against Garp himself and that had ended with him getting flattened by a single punch.
The third time had been when he struck at that pirate ship. According to Garp's assessment, his strength was comparable to that of a commissioned officer.
But Yoriichi knew such titles were hardly reliable as a standard of comparison.
After all, there was a world of difference between a weak major and a strong colonel even if they shared the same rank.
To put it in perspective: Smoker and Morgan were both colonels.
Yes, that Morgan, the so-called "Axe-Hand" who once claimed he could fell even the hero Garp with a single swing.
And in that battle against the pirates, Yoriichi hadn't even fought at full strength.
"If I spar with Teacher Zephyr," Yoriichi thought, "I should be able to gauge my current strength in this world properly."
"At least he won't knock me out with one punch like Garp did… right?"
Thinking that, he leaned his sword against the wall, picked up a bamboo blade, and walked to stand before Zephyr. Without further words, he raised the bamboo sword in both hands and said quietly:
"Teacher, I'll give it my all. Please be careful."
Hearing this, Zephyr chuckled, resting the bamboo sword easily in his grip.
"Then come at me!"
The moment his words fell, Yoriichi adjusted his breathing, his entire presence shifting in an instant.
If a moment ago he had been calm as a still lake, now he was a surging tide, a storm barely contained in human form. The sheer force radiating from him was nothing a boy his age should have been capable of.
And to Yoriichi's eyes through his Transparent World Zephyr's entire body was filled with openings.
"…Hmm?"
Sensing the change, Zephyr's expression sharpened. The bamboo sword that had been pointed toward the ground was instantly raised to guard before his chest.
A heartbeat later, Yoriichi vanished from sight.
Within the dojo, a strange, misty haze began to rise soft, shimmering like morning fog. Within two breaths, it filled the entire hall.
"What is this?!"
"Some kind of Devil Fruit power?!"
"Garp didn't tell me the kid could do this!"
"No… no, it doesn't feel like a Devil Fruit ability…"
"Is this… purely swordsmanship?"
Zephyr's Observation Haki spread out, his brows furrowing as he muttered inwardly.
The next instant, Yoriichi's figure burst from the haze appearing at Zephyr's right side. His bamboo sword flashed in a horizontal arc toward Zephyr's abdomen.
"Mist Breathing—Drifting Slash!"
(End of Chapter