The national treasures of Wano, the black blade Shusui and the preserved body of the Dragon-Slaying Swordsman Ryuma, were enshrined within a shrine in the snowy Ringo region.
Unlike the autumn hills of Hakumai, Ringo was gripped in eternal winter. The winds howled, carrying thick flurries of snow across the barren land.
Teach trudged through the cold, his breath misting the air, until a crimson bridge came into view. Two samurai stood guard upon it, their gazes locked on him.
The sight reminded Teach of the Bandit's Bridge he had once seen in the story, where swords were stolen from travelers. Perhaps this was its origin.
"Halt! State your purpose," one of the samurai barked, snow sliding from his helmet as he drew his blade.
Teach cupped his hands and smiled. "I was sent by Lord Kozuki Sukiyaki. I carry a message for the seniors who guard this shrine."
The samurai exchanged glances. A fighting spirit sparked in their eyes. "Then you know the rules," one said. They had waited long, bored of standing guard, and now welcomed a challenge.
Teach's grin widened. "My pleasure." He drew the golden treasure sword Sukiyaki had entrusted to him.
The samurai's eyes widened slightly. They recognized the blade immediately. That the shogun had given it to this young foreigner meant he was no ordinary intruder. Still, duty demanded they test him.
Steel rang out as the duel began. Teach fought against both men at once, his strokes powerful but precise. The snowy air dampened his Flame Flow swordsmanship, forcing him to lean more on his Lightning Flow, crackling sparks enhancing his speed and reflexes.
"Fast!" one samurai muttered as his blade clashed against Teach's. The impact drove him back, snow scattering underfoot.
The second samurai darted behind Teach, thrusting at his back. Teach twisted, parrying with a backhand slash that hurled the man away. His sheer physical strength, endurance, stamina, and recovery overwhelmed the seasoned warriors despite their skill.
Teach pressed forward relentlessly, refusing to cede the initiative. One against two, his Observation Haki mapped every shift in their intent.
Golden lightning surged down his blade. "Chidori!"
The sword buzzed like a thousand birds. He exploded forward, slashing down on one samurai. The man crossed his blade in defense—
"Clang!" Sparks scattered. The lightning surged through his weapon, numbing his hands. His grip faltered, his sword fell to the snow. Defeated.
The second samurai didn't falter. With calm precision, he slashed at Teach's back the moment his partner fell.
But Teach was already smiling. Guided by Haki, he twisted his arm, angling his blade behind him to block the strike without even looking.
The clash shook his arm, but he held firm. Spinning with the momentum, Teach drove his opponent back under a storm of strikes. Deprived of support, the man's defense crumbled, and with one final blow Teach knocked him down.
Both samurai lay defeated, snow steaming where the lightning had scorched the ground.
"…So strong!" one gasped, before smiling. "We've lost. You may pass."
"How many stages are there?" Teach asked, curious.
"Three in all," one explained. "We are the first. The second is far stronger than us."
"Good," Teach chuckled, his blood thrumming with battle-spirit.
The two samurai followed him, abandoning their post to watch the next challenge. Along the way, they spoke of the guardians of the shrine; aged veterans of Wano, many of them Great Swordsmen, who had chosen seclusion to protect the legacy of Shusui and Ryuma.
The black blade Shusui was more than a sword. Centuries ago, it had saved Wano in its darkest hour, repelling invaders and immortalizing Ryuma's name as the 'Sword God.'
To the nation, it was both weapon and symbol.
At last they reached the mountain path, old yet well-maintained despite its age. A pavilion stood at the base, its roof heavy with snow.
Leaning against a pillar was a young samurai in a white kimono embroidered with the character for Dragon. His spiky black hair bristled in the wind, his eyes closed in meditation.
As Teach approached, the youth opened his eyes. Crunching across the snow, he stepped forward to block the path.
"This is Shimotsuki Ryuga," one of the samurai whispered. "A prodigy of the Shimotsuki clan, descended from the Dragon-Slaying Ryuma himself. His talent rivals Lord Oden's, already a true swordsman, though still in his teens."
Teach's grin widened. He could already feel it; the boy's sword intent, sharp and focused, clashing invisibly with his own.
Lightning and flame surged within Teach's aura, forming a three-headed dragon. Opposite, Ryuga's spirit sharpened into a spectral swordsman, blade aimed at the dragon's throat.
Their killing wills collided, unseen but undeniable.
"Marshall D. Teach," Teach said, introducing himself with a smile.
Ryuga nodded silently. But the burning passion in his eyes said enough—he lived for battle. His hand tightened on his hilt.
The two bridge guardians stepped aside. The snow fell still.
Teach moved first. "Nadegiri!"
He exploded forward, sword flashing in a perfect downward cut. The stroke split the snow, a pure, honed strike.
Ryuga's eyes narrowed. He bent low, knees braced, and drew in one smooth motion,
"Clang!" Steel met steel. He had blocked it.
He countered instantly, closing the distance with speed and precision. His slash carried the weight of Ryuma's legend; the single blow said to fell dragons.
Teach's Observation Haki traced the arc. He parried, sidestepped, and ignited his blade with both lightning and flame. The duel erupted.
Their swords clashed again and again, silver light against dark purple. Sparks and embers flew, yet neither let the fight spill beyond their blade, —they were warriors in control.
"Monstrous…" one of the samurai whispered. "That boy fights no worse than Ryuga himself."
"And he wields both Lightning Flow and Flame Flow… and even merges them," another added. "That requires insane strength and willpower. He'll reach the level of a Great Swordsman before long."
On the mountain peak above, shadowed elders observed. The reclusive guardians of Wano murmured among themselves:
"Ryuga is already forging his own path from Ryuma's style."
"The outsider too, his dual flows are remarkable. A Great Swordsman in the making."
"His blade, however, is not pure. He will never reach the pinnacle. But his power will be immense."
Below, the duel raged. Teach gradually pressed the advantage. He had mastered Armament Haki, while Ryuga had not.
"You should yield," Teach said with a grin. "Without Armament Haki, you can't beat me."
Ryuga's jaw tightened. He knew the truth, but his spirit blazed hotter. He raised his sword in both hands, aura flaring. He would not accept defeat without one final strike.
Teach's flames roared in answer, circling him in a blazing ring that burned even in the snowstorm. He invoked a technique drawn from Yamamoto Genryūsai's notes, forged anew in his own style:
"Hellfire."
"Dragon Slayer!" Ryuga roared, his strongest slash descending.
Their blades met in a cataclysm of fire and steel. The ground shook, snow vaporized, and a shockwave tore through the valley.
When the smoke cleared, Teach had retreated three steps, steady on his feet. Ryuga lay sprawled on the snow, his kimono scorched and torn.
The result was clear. Teach had won.