Kaito knew that to push his Sage Body to the next stage, he needed to face a true powerhouse—someone whose strength dwarfed his own. The Golden Lion Shiki was a perfect candidate. Not only would the fight serve as a test of his current limits, but it would also provide valuable experience without placing him in mortal danger.
As he climbed the broad wooden ladder bridging the two ships, Kaito's heart raced. Reaching the deck of the Rocks Pirates, he found himself surrounded by figures he recognized from the original stories: Whitebeard, Big Mom, and Kaido in his youth—all icons of the pirate world, gathered on one legendary ship. The sight made Kaito's pulse quicken.
"Are you ready, Kaito?" Shiki stood across from him, a confident smirk on his face.
"Let's get started," Kaito replied, unsheathing his sword and gripping it tightly.
Though he had been sailing for only a year, Kaito's skills with the blade were nothing short of extraordinary. He had mastered the ability to listen to the breath of all things, cutting steel as if it were paper. His technique was refined enough to unleash flying slashes, but Kaito was acutely aware that he was still at the level of a skilled swordsman, not yet a "Great Swordsman" like Shiki.
"Courageous, huh? I like that," Shiki said with a grin, drawing his famed blade, Kensei, from his waist. The blade, permanently coated in jet-black Armament Haki, hummed as it sliced through the air. This was a true black blade, forged through countless battles.
"Since you're so eager, I'll let you have the first move," Shiki said, gesturing with his sword.
Kaito didn't hesitate. He coated his blade in a thick layer of Armament Haki and launched forward with a burst of speed. Their blades clashed, sending a metallic ring echoing across the deck. Sparks erupted, and the surrounding pirates flinched at the sheer force of the collision.
The battle that followed was relentless. Kaito attacked with everything he had—honed instincts, precise swordsmanship, and unwavering determination. But Shiki was a wall, deflecting each strike with ease. Even as Kaito brought his blade down with full strength, Shiki's sword barely budged, its blackened edge unyielding.
"Not bad," Shiki said after the first exchange. "But you're going to have to do better than that."
Kaito gritted his teeth, pushing himself harder. He moved faster, slashed stronger, and looked for openings in Shiki's defense. Yet no matter how fiercely he attacked, Shiki's skill remained a step ahead. The older pirate's movements were fluid, precise, and impossibly fast.
For what felt like hours, they clashed. The deck beneath them cracked under their feet, and the surrounding air rippled with the force of their strikes. The onlookers, many of whom had initially dismissed Kaito as just another rookie, grew increasingly shocked.
"He's still standing! Against Shiki!" one pirate whispered.
"I thought he'd go down in five moves, tops. But look at him—he's keeping up!" another said, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Kaito's focus sharpened. As the fight dragged on, he began to notice patterns in Shiki's technique—subtle shifts in weight, slight delays between certain strikes. And then, after one particularly intense exchange, Kaito saw it: a small, almost imperceptible gap in Shiki's otherwise perfect defense.
Seizing the opportunity, Kaito shifted his stance. He deflected Shiki's next swing, spun on his heel, and drove his blade toward Shiki's chest.
"Shi—!"
Shiki, who had been fighting in a relaxed manner, didn't react in time. The tip of Kaito's sword grazed his chest, leaving a shallow but distinct cut. Blood welled from the wound, staining Shiki's coat.
The onlookers fell silent.
"He… he cut Captain Shiki?" one pirate stammered.
"That's impossible! Even against the Marines, Shiki never gets scratched!" another exclaimed.
Kaito stepped back, breathing heavily. His arm trembled from the effort, but he held his ground. This single strike was proof—he had found a way to penetrate the defenses of one of the greatest swordsmen of his time.
Shiki wiped at the blood with the back of his hand, then laughed. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all. You've got talent."
In that moment, Kaito felt a surge of accomplishment. The fight wasn't just a test—it was a breakthrough. He had learned more from clashing with Shiki than he could have imagined. And though he knew he was still far from Shiki's level, the progress he had made was undeniable.