The salty breeze filled Dante's lungs as his small boat sailed across the endless expanse of blue. For the first time in his life, the horizon stretched infinitely before him, unbroken by ruins or thick forests. The sensation was intoxicating, a mix of freedom and uncertainty.
Dante leaned against the mast of his boat, his sword resting beside him. It was a simple vessel, sturdy enough for travel but unimposing compared to the massive galleons and sleek pirate ships he had read about. Not that it mattered. Dante had no intention of making a grand entrance just yet.
"I finally get it now," he muttered to himself. "Why he spends so much time staring at the sea."
The boat creaked as it bobbed over gentle waves, but the peace was short-lived. A sudden gust of wind tore through the air, and dark clouds gathered on the horizon. The tranquil sea turned choppy, the waves swelling with alarming speed.
Dante's golden eyes narrowed. "Of course, it couldn't just be smooth sailing."
Trial by Storm
The storm struck with ferocity, rain lashing against Dante's face as he fought to keep his boat steady. The waves towered above him, threatening to capsize the small vessel with every surge.
"Come on, you piece of driftwood!" Dante growled, gripping the tiller with one hand while holding his sword in the other, ready to cut down any debris hurled his way by the tempest.
As lightning illuminated the chaotic scene, Dante spotted a massive shadow looming in the water—a Sea King, its serpentine body cutting through the waves with terrifying grace.
"You've got to be kidding me," Dante muttered, his grip tightening on his blade.
The Sea King reared its head, its glowing eyes locking onto the small boat. With a deafening roar, it lunged.
Dante sprang into action, leaping from his boat to the creature's head in a single bound. His sword flashed in the storm's light as he slashed at the beast's thick hide.
The Sea King thrashed in pain, its massive tail slamming into the water and creating a wave that nearly swallowed Dante's boat. But Dante was relentless, his strikes precise and unyielding.
With one final, powerful blow, he drove his blade into the creature's eye. The Sea King let out a pained shriek before retreating beneath the waves, its massive form disappearing into the depths.
Drenched and exhausted, Dante returned to his boat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The storm began to subside, the clouds parting to reveal the first rays of dawn.
Dante smirked despite himself. "If that's the ocean's way of welcoming me, I think I'm gonna like it here."
A Stranger's Kindness
Hours later, Dante's boat drifted into a small harbor on a crescent-shaped island. The town was modest, its wooden buildings weathered but sturdy, with fishing nets and barrels of supplies lining the docks.
As Dante tied his boat to the pier, a middle-aged fisherman approached, his broad frame and sun-weathered skin marking him as a man of the sea.
"You look like you've been through hell, kid," the man said, offering Dante a hand.
Dante accepted the help, stepping onto solid ground with a grateful nod. "Just a little storm. Nothing I couldn't handle."
The fisherman chuckled. "A little storm, huh? You're lucky you made it here in one piece. Name's Marlin. What brings you to Shellton?"
Dante hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. "Just passing through. Thought I'd see what the world has to offer."
Marlin raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, if you're looking for food and rest, you'll find both at the Silver Gull Inn. Tell 'em Marlin sent you."
Dante nodded. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."
Trouble Brewing
The Silver Gull Inn was lively, filled with the chatter of sailors, merchants, and travelers. Dante sat at a corner table, savoring a bowl of stew and listening to the conversations around him.
Most of it was mundane—talk of fishing hauls, trade routes, and family squabbles. But one conversation caught his attention.
"Did you hear about that pirate crew that's been terrorizing the nearby islands? The Black Vultures, they're called," a burly man said to his companion.
"Yeah," the other man replied. "I heard they've been targeting small towns like ours. Took everything from Fairview a few days ago—food, treasure, even people."
Dante's grip on his spoon tightened. Pirates. He'd already had a taste of their selfishness back on Kuraigana Island, and it left a sour taste in his mouth.
As if on cue, the inn's door slammed open, and a group of rough-looking men barged in. Their leader, a tall man with a jagged scar running down his cheek, scanned the room with a sneer.
"Well, well. Looks like we found ourselves a cozy little spot," the man said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Listen up, folks. We're the Black Vultures, and we're here to collect our dues. Hand over your valuables, and maybe we won't burn this place to the ground."
The room fell silent, fear gripping the patrons. But Dante remained calm, his hand drifting to the hilt of his sword.
"Looks like trouble just walked in," he muttered to himself, standing up from his seat.
Clash at the Silver Gull
The leader of the Black Vultures strutted into the center of the room, his lackeys fanning out behind him. Their grins widened as they eyed the patrons, who were too terrified to move.
"Empty your pockets, now!" the leader barked, slamming his fist on a nearby table.
Dante calmly walked forward, his boots tapping against the wooden floor. The sound drew the pirates' attention, and their leader sneered at the young swordsman.
"And who's this, huh? Some punk who thinks he's a hero?"
Dante tilted his head, a smirk forming on his lips. "Hero? Nah, I just can't stand loudmouths like you ruining a perfectly good meal."
The room gasped, and the leader's sneer twisted into a scowl. "You've got a death wish, kid."
One of the lackeys lunged at Dante, swinging a rusty cutlass. Dante's hand moved faster than anyone could follow, drawing his blade and deflecting the attack in a single motion. The pirate's weapon shattered, and Dante's sword was already sheathed before the man crumpled to the floor.
"I don't like wasting time," Dante said, his golden eyes glinting with sharp focus.
The leader growled. "Get him!"
The remaining lackeys charged, but they were no match for Dante's skill. He moved like a shadow, weaving through their attacks with ease. His strikes were swift and precise, each one disarming or incapacitating an opponent without unnecessary force.
Within moments, the room was littered with groaning pirates, and Dante stood amidst the chaos, his sword still sheathed.
"Your turn," he said, locking eyes with the leader.
The scarred man hesitated, his bravado faltering. "You think you're tough, huh? Let's see how you handle this!"
He drew a pair of pistols and fired. The bullets zipped through the air, but Dante sidestepped one and deflected the other with the flick of his sword.
Before the leader could react, Dante closed the distance between them, his blade resting against the man's throat.
"Leave," Dante said coldly. "And don't come back."
The leader gulped, his bravado completely gone. "Alright, alright! We're leaving!"
He scrambled out the door, dragging his injured crewmates with him.
The Town's Gratitude
As the pirates fled, the inn erupted into cheers. The patrons crowded around Dante, thanking him profusely for saving them.
"You really showed them!" Marlin said, clapping Dante on the back. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
"Just picked it up," Dante said with a shrug, trying to downplay the attention.
The innkeeper approached, offering Dante a free meal and a place to stay for the night. "It's the least we can do," he said.
Dante accepted, grateful for the hospitality. But as he sat back down to finish his stew, he couldn't shake the feeling that his actions had set something in motion.
A Shadow on the Horizon
The next morning, Dante prepared to leave Shellton. The townsfolk gathered at the docks to see him off, showering him with thanks and well-wishes.
"Come back anytime, Dante!" Marlin called out as the boy untied his boat.
Dante smiled and waved, but as he sailed away, his mind was already on the next challenge. The Black Vultures wouldn't forget him, and he wouldn't be surprised if they tried to retaliate.
"Let 'em come," he muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
But the sea had other plans for Dante. As the island disappeared behind him, a massive ship appeared on the horizon, its black sails billowing in the wind. A familiar flag fluttered at the mast—a vulture skull with crossed cutlasses.
Dante's smirk returned. "Looks like I didn't have to wait long."
The Black Vultures' ship loomed closer, its cannons aimed at Dante's small vessel. The leader's voice echoed across the water.
"You thought you could humiliate us and get away with it, kid? We'll show you what real pirates are made of!"
Dante stood at the bow of his boat, his sword gleaming in the sunlight. "Let's see if you're worth the effort."
Battle on the High Seas
The Black Vultures' ship loomed ever closer, casting a dark shadow over Dante's small boat. The crew hollered and jeered, waving their weapons in the air as they prepared to attack.
Dante remained calm, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. The gentle rocking of his boat beneath him was the only sound as the pirates' cries filled the air.
"Fire the cannons!" the scarred leader roared, pointing a finger at Dante's vessel.
The thunderous boom of cannon fire echoed across the sea as a barrage of iron balls hurtled toward Dante.
With practiced precision, Dante leaped into action. His sword flashed in the sunlight as he slashed through one cannonball, then another, each one splitting cleanly in half before harmlessly splashing into the water.
The pirates gawked in disbelief.
"Is that the best you've got?" Dante called out, his voice carrying easily over the waves.
The leader snarled, slamming his fist on the railing. "Board him! Tear him apart!"
A dozen pirates swung over on ropes, their weapons gleaming as they descended onto Dante's boat. He welcomed the challenge, his eyes alight with excitement.
The first pirate swung a mace, but Dante sidestepped effortlessly, countering with a precise strike that sent the weapon flying into the sea. Another came at him with twin daggers, only to be disarmed and knocked unconscious in a single fluid motion.
The small boat became a stage for Dante's mastery, each movement deliberate and efficient. Despite being outnumbered, he fought with a calm confidence that made it seem as if the outcome had been decided long before the fight began.
The leader of the Black Vultures watched from his ship, his scarred face twisted with rage. "Get me over there!" he barked at his men.
The Duel
The leader leaped onto Dante's boat, landing with a heavy thud. His long, jagged saber gleamed menacingly as he advanced toward the young swordsman.
"You're dead meat, brat," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Dante smirked, drawing his blade and adopting a relaxed stance. "You talk a big game for someone who just lost half his crew."
With a roar, the leader lunged, his saber slicing through the air. Dante met the attack head-on, their blades clashing in a shower of sparks.
The force of the strike sent a shockwave rippling through the water, but Dante held his ground. He parried the leader's wild swings with ease, his golden eyes studying every move.
"Is that all you've got?" Dante taunted, his smirk widening.
The leader roared in frustration, his attacks growing more frantic. But his rage was his undoing. Dante sidestepped a reckless swing and delivered a swift counterstrike, his blade cutting through the leader's saber like it was paper.
The broken weapon clattered to the deck, and the leader stumbled backward, clutching his bleeding hand.
"Please!" he begged, dropping to his knees. "Have mercy!"
Dante stared at him for a long moment, then sheathed his sword. "I'll let you live, but only because you're not worth killing."
He turned his back on the defeated man and stepped to the edge of the boat. "Tell your crew to get lost before I change my mind."
The leader scrambled back to his ship, shouting orders to retreat. The Black Vultures' ship turned and sailed away, its crew battered and broken.
Dante watched them go, a satisfied smile on his face. "Looks like I passed my first real test."
A New Resolve
As the Black Vultures disappeared over the horizon, Dante sat on the edge of his boat, staring at the endless expanse of blue. The fight had been exhilarating, but it also left him with a sense of clarity.
"This is what it's all about," he muttered to himself. "Testing my limits, growing stronger... carving out my own path."
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, a spark of determination lighting up his golden eyes.
"I'll surpass you one day, old man," he said, thinking of Mihawk. "And when I do, the whole world will know my name."
With the wind at his back and the open sea before him, Dante set his sights on the next adventure, eager to see what challenges awaited him.