"What terrifying strength…"
Ronan's expression darkened, his chest heaving as he drew deep breaths.
That brute force far exceeded his expectations.
Just a random pirate captain, and he already possessed such monstrous power?
If he hadn't used bursting force to disperse most of the impact just now, his arm would likely have snapped on the spot.
But—
Ronan saw things clearly as well.
This pirate captain was strong, yes, but his moves were crude to the extreme.
No technique whatsoever.
Purely relying on raw physical power.
Compared to that, Ronan's control of force, redirection, and counterstrikes had already reached a refined, near-perfect level.
Once he grasped the opponent's limits, Ronan instead grew calmer.
Strength inferior to the opponent? That was fine.
Technique, speed, footwork—
Those were Ronan's true killing tools.
His breathing gradually steadied, his mind settling once more into stillness.
He no longer intended to clash head-on.
He would use movement and force control to tear this brute beast apart, piece by piece.
Just then—
Ding!
[System Notification: Host has entered a Death Duel state]
[Cultivation Multiplier ×5]
In an instant—
Ronan felt as if his body had been set ablaze.
Strength, speed, reaction, perception—
All of them skyrocketed at once, as though an invisible storm had hurled him toward a higher peak!
Blood surged through his veins like molten lava. Every sound around him became piercingly clear.
Ronan raised his head.
A sharp glint flashed deep within his eyes.
The wind howled. Killing intent surged like a tide.
His stance tilted forward slightly, his entire body like an arrow about to be loosed—
The fivefold boost to cultivation poured into his limbs like a raging torrent.
Qi and blood roared wildly, his bones cracking again and again.
Waves of heat rolled through his meridians, so intense that he couldn't help but exhale a long, deeply satisfying breath.
At that moment—
The status panel appeared on its own.
[Strength: 10 → 11]
[Physique: 10 → 11]
Ronan's eyelids twitched faintly.
This was the first time he had felt "becoming stronger" so clearly through battle alone.
But he didn't have time to dwell on it.
That massive figure—
Had already charged again!
"Brat! If this is all you've got, then die!!"
The Ripped Sail captain roared, his arms swelling as the great saber tore through the air, crashing down once more with howling force.
This strike was faster, fiercer, more ruthless than before.
But Ronan's foot tapped lightly. His waist twisted, and his body drifted aside like smoke—
The saber slammed down past his afterimage, sparks of shattered stone flying.
He dodged it.
So easily it was almost despair-inducing.
Ronan himself remained perfectly composed, calmly analyzing even as he moved:
—Strength and physique increased, but speed and spirit didn't.
—Which means whatever is used in battle, whatever is trained, is what the system enhances.
A martial artist's intuition flared brightly in his mind.
Battle itself—
Was cultivation.
"So that's how it works."
A sharp edge flashed in Ronan's eyes.
From then on, he deliberately began to guide the rhythm of the fight.
The captain roared and swung wildly, like a heavily armored beast charging in blind fury;
While Ronan's figure drifted and weaved between the saber winds, elegant and light, as if dancing in a violent storm.
Every dodge was clean and precise.
Every sidestep perfectly placed.
It was like—
Walking a dog.
The pirate captain finally realized something was wrong, fury exploding from his veins.
"Damn you, brat! All you know how to do is run?!"
Ronan didn't answer.
He didn't even spare him a glance.
He was focused on feeling—
The rhythm of his breathing, the flow of muscle, the burst of his joints, the shifting of his center of gravity…
Those subtle martial sensations buried deep within him were now magnified vividly under the fivefold multiplier.
Suddenly, the system flashed again—
[Speed: 10 → 11]
Ronan's eyes gleamed.
"…Just as I thought."
In such a short time, his strength, physique, and speed had all increased by one point.
And this—
Was only the beginning, right after the Death Duel multiplier activated.
The wind roared. The pirate captain was being torn apart by rage, teetering on madness;
Yet Ronan's movements between the flashing blades grew lighter, faster—
Once again, he slipped past a devastating chop with ease.
The blade screamed past his ear, the wind it carried even lifting a few strands of his hair.
Behind him came the captain's furious bellow, his chest heaving violently:
"Bastard! Stand—still!!"
Ronan merely glanced at him.
That look even carried a hint of… satisfaction?
Because he suddenly felt that this idiot who only knew how to swing a blade—
Looked much more agreeable now.
As the very first sparring partner delivered to him after transmigrating, and one strong enough to be like this, he was truly rare.
Ronan even felt a trace of gratitude.
Please, hold out a little longer. Let me train some more.
With that thought, he stopped evading—
And counterattacked.
The pirate captain had just finished a heavy swing, his center of gravity tipping slightly. That fleeting opening became glaringly obvious in Ronan's eyes.
Ronan tapped the ground, sliding in at an angle like drifting smoke, slipping past the furious blade.
In the next instant, the wooden stick trembled, power surging through it, spear intent coiling like a dragon.
Point. Thrust. Burst!
The stick shot forward like a sea dragon breaking the waves, stabbing straight into the pirate captain's chest!
"Urgh—!!"
The captain let out a muffled groan. His skin was pierced, blood splashing out—but not as Ronan had expected.
The tip of the stick stopped beneath chest muscles thick as iron plates, as though it had rammed into a wall of flesh.
His defense was absurdly strong.
Ronan frowned slightly.
This was the physical body of people in this world?
If a martial artist from his previous life had taken that thrust, they would have died instantly.
Yet this man only roared in pain—just a surface wound.
The pirate captain retaliated with a furious roar, sweeping his saber sideways, the wind shrieking with bone-chilling force.
Ronan lowered his body and slid again, slipping past like a fox in the forest.
Backhand—
The wooden stick swung up, bursting force roaring as it smashed straight toward the captain's head!
Boom!!
With a dull impact, the captain's head snapped to the side, a bloody gash tearing open on his forehead.
And the wooden stick in Ronan's hands… grew shorter again.
The tip shattered, wood chips scattering everywhere.
Ronan's heart sank slightly.
The physical bodies in this world were just too monstrous.
At the same time—
The clash between Ronan and the pirate captain shook the entire town. Killing cries rang out as the two fought like colliding beasts.
Just then—
From the shadows outside the town, several figures came rushing over.
At the front was the old man who had escaped earlier, his grandson close behind him. With them were two men and one woman—
Among them was a black-haired youth wearing a straw hat.
"Don't worry, old man," he said with a confident grin.
"We'll chase all those pirates away!"
Beside him was a young man with short, moss-green hair.
The muscles beneath his white T-shirt were clearly defined, three swords hanging at his waist along with a green bandanna that stood out at a glance.
He cast a sideways look toward the battlefield in town, his tone calm yet sharp.
"It's the Ripped Sail Pirates.
"The captain's bounty is three million two hundred thousand beli."
It sounded like he was merely stating a fact, yet the naturally restrained pressure in his presence made it hard to ignore.
Close behind them, an orange-haired girl followed, her slim waist agile like a cat's, a trace of gravity between her brows.
"Three million beli is already dangerous in East Blue.
"I heard the Ripped Sail Pirates once wiped out a Marine branch outpost. That's why the bounty was raised."