The sun was high in the sky as Dante's boat cut through the gentle waves, his golden eyes fixed on the horizon. Days had passed since the trial on Ryscan Island, but the words of Kael lingered in his mind.
"You're stronger than you think."
Dante clenched his fists. The battle had pushed him to his limits, but it had also left him with a hunger for more. He needed to grow stronger—not just for himself, but to prove that he could surpass the legend of his father.
The thought of Mihawk always stirred conflicting emotions within him. He admired the man's unparalleled skill and discipline, but he also resented the weight of his shadow.
"Someday," Dante muttered, his voice firm, "I'll stand at the top of the world. Not as your son, but as Dante Dracule."
The Pirate's Bounty
As Dante sailed, the peaceful silence of the sea was broken by the distant sound of cannon fire. He turned his head to see smoke rising on the horizon.
"A battle?" he muttered, his interest piqued.
Adjusting the sails, Dante steered his boat toward the commotion. As he drew closer, the scene became clearer—a small merchant ship was under attack by a pirate crew.
The pirates' ship was a hulking vessel with tattered sails and a flag depicting a snarling wolf. Its cannons fired relentlessly at the merchant ship, which was clearly outmatched.
Dante's hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he watched the scene unfold. He had no personal stake in the fight, but the sight of the helpless merchants stirred something within him.
"Tch, guess I can't just sit back and watch," he muttered.
With a sharp turn of the wheel, he directed his boat straight toward the pirate ship.
A Hero or a Fool?
The pirates barely noticed Dante's arrival until his boat slammed into their hull with a loud crash. The force of the impact sent several of them stumbling across the deck.
"What the hell?" one of the pirates shouted, turning to see the lone swordsman standing on the bow of his small boat.
Dante leaped onto the pirate ship with ease, his sword already drawn. "Hey there, boys. Mind if I join the party?"
The pirates stared at him in confusion before bursting into laughter.
"You've got guts, kid," their leader said, stepping forward. He was a burly man with a scar running down his face and a massive axe slung over his shoulder. "But you're about to regret sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."
Dante smirked, his golden eyes gleaming with excitement. "We'll see about that."
The pirate leader raised his axe, barking orders to his crew. "Get him!"
The deck erupted into chaos as the pirates charged at Dante, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight.
A Dance of Blades
Dante moved like a whirlwind, his one-sword style cutting through the pirates with precision and grace. His blade struck with blinding speed, disarming opponents and leaving them sprawling on the deck.
"Too slow," he said, sidestepping a clumsy swing from one of the pirates. His sword flashed, and the man's weapon clattered to the ground.
The pirate leader growled in frustration, watching as his crew was systematically taken down. "Enough of this!" he roared, charging at Dante with his massive axe.
Dante turned to face him, a confident smirk on his face. "Finally, someone worth my time."
The clash between the two was intense. The pirate leader's strength was undeniable, his axe swinging with enough force to splinter the deck. But Dante's speed and precision gave him the edge.
"You've got power," Dante said, dodging another swing. "But power without control is useless."
With a swift counterattack, he disarmed the pirate leader, sending the axe flying into the sea. The man fell to his knees, staring up at Dante in disbelief.
"Who... who are you?" he stammered.
Dante sheathed his sword, his golden eyes cold and unforgiving. "Just a guy who doesn't like bullies."
A Lesson Learned
With the pirates subdued, Dante turned his attention to the merchant ship. The crew, a mix of nervous men and women, watched him with wide eyes as he approached.
"You're safe now," he said, his tone casual.
One of the merchants, an older man with a kind face, stepped forward. "Thank you, young man. We would've been done for without your help."
Dante waved him off. "Don't mention it. Just try to stay out of trouble next time."
The man nodded, his expression grateful. "At least let us repay you. We don't have much, but—"
"No need," Dante interrupted, already heading back to his boat. "Just make sure you pay it forward."
As he sailed away, he couldn't help but smile to himself. The fight had been exhilarating, but it was the gratitude of the merchants that stayed with him.
"Maybe there's more to this journey than just fighting," he mused, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
The Aftermath
As Dante's boat sailed away from the scene, he glanced back at the merchant ship now slowly retreating to safety. The black smoke from the pirate ship's cannonfire was still visible in the distance, but the battle had ended decisively in his favor.
He leaned back against the mast of his boat, his sword resting across his lap. "A good warm-up," he muttered, though his thoughts drifted to the pirate leader's final words.
"Who are you?"
It wasn't the first time Dante had heard that question, and it wouldn't be the last.
Dante's lips curled into a smirk. "I guess that depends on who's asking."
Another Encounter
The sun was beginning to set when Dante spotted a small island on the horizon. His supplies were running low, and a stop to restock wouldn't hurt. As his boat drew closer, he saw a bustling port town nestled along the island's coast, its harbor filled with ships of all shapes and sizes.
The town, called Redport Haven, had a lively atmosphere. Fishermen shouted about their catches, merchants hawked their wares, and children ran through the streets playing games. Dante tied up his boat at the dock, his golden eyes scanning the crowd.
"Let's see what this place has to offer," he muttered, stepping onto the pier.
As he walked through the marketplace, he noticed the variety of people—sailors, traders, and even a few bounty hunters, their wanted posters tucked into their belts. Dante kept his head low, not wanting to draw too much attention.
"Oi, kid!" a gruff voice called out.
Dante turned to see a vendor waving at him from behind a stall filled with swords and other weapons. The man had a thick beard and an eye patch, his grin revealing a few missing teeth.
"You look like you know your way around a blade. Care to take a look?"
Dante approached the stall, his interest piqued. The swords on display were of varying quality, but one caught his eye—a sleek, black katana with a crimson hilt.
"That one," he said, pointing to it.
The vendor chuckled. "Ah, you've got good taste. That's a beauty, isn't it? Forged from Seastone alloy, light as a feather but strong enough to cut through steel."
Dante picked up the katana, testing its weight. It felt balanced, its edge sharp enough to slice through the air with a satisfying whoosh.
"How much?"
The vendor scratched his beard, sizing Dante up. "For you? Five million berries."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Five million? You're joking."
The vendor shrugged. "A sword like that doesn't come cheap. If you can't afford it, maybe you're not ready for it."
Dante smirked, setting the katana back on the counter. "It's a nice blade, but I've already got the only sword I need."
He tapped the hilt of his own weapon before turning to leave, the vendor shaking his head in amusement.
Trouble in Redport Haven
As Dante continued through the town, the lively atmosphere took a darker turn. He noticed people whispering in hushed tones, their expressions tense. Groups of armed men patrolled the streets, their uniforms bearing the insignia of a wolf's head—the same symbol from the pirate ship he had just fought.
Dante frowned. "Looks like I didn't get all of them."
He followed the patrols discreetly, listening to their conversations.
"The boss isn't gonna be happy when he hears what happened to the crew," one of them said.
"Yeah, but who's gonna tell him? You? I'm not sticking my neck out," another replied.
Dante's eyes narrowed. Whoever their "boss" was, it sounded like he was still on the island—and likely causing trouble for the townsfolk.
A New Challenge
As night fell, Dante's suspicions were confirmed. A group of townsfolk gathered in the square, pleading with the armed men who now controlled the area.
"Please, have mercy!" an elderly woman begged. "We've already given you everything we have!"
One of the men sneered. "Not our problem. The boss said we collect double this week, so that's what we're doing. If you don't like it, take it up with him."
Dante stepped into the square, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Hey," he called out, his voice cutting through the tension.
The armed men turned to face him, their expressions shifting from annoyance to curiosity.
"And who the hell are you?" one of them asked.
Dante smirked. "Just a passerby who doesn't like bullies."
The men laughed, their leader stepping forward. He was a towering figure with a scarred face and a pair of cutlasses strapped to his back.
"You've got guts, kid," the leader said. "But you're outnumbered and outmatched. Walk away now, and we'll pretend we didn't see you."
Dante unsheathed his sword, its blade gleaming in the moonlight. "I think I'll take my chances."
The leader's grin faded. "Fine. Your funeral."
With a snap of his fingers, the armed men charged at Dante, weapons drawn.
A Lone Warrior Against the Pack
The first wave of armed men rushed Dante with reckless abandon, their overconfidence apparent in their uncoordinated attacks. Dante's golden eyes glimmered, tracking each movement with razor-sharp precision.
One man lunged at him with a spear. Dante sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing the shaft mid-thrust and snapping it in half with a sharp twist of his wrist. In the same motion, his blade flicked out, disarming the attacker and sending him sprawling to the ground.
"You guys should really train more," Dante said, his voice laced with dry humor.
Another pirate came at him from the side, wielding a pair of daggers. Dante ducked under the wild slashes, his movements fluid like water. With a single upward stroke, his sword struck the man's blades, sending them flying into the air before delivering a spinning kick that knocked him out cold.
The townsfolk watched in awe, their fear giving way to cautious hope.
The Wolf's Fangs
The leader of the group narrowed his eyes, his patience wearing thin as more of his men fell to the swordsman's skill.
"Stop playing around!" he barked. "Surround him!"
The remaining men moved to encircle Dante, their weapons glinting under the dim glow of the town's lanterns. Despite being outnumbered, Dante's expression remained calm, his posture relaxed yet ready.
"I was hoping for a challenge," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Don't disappoint me."
The men attacked simultaneously, their movements more coordinated this time. Dante responded with a display of finesse and precision, weaving through their attacks like a dancer. His one-sword style was a symphony of sharp, deliberate strikes, each movement designed to maximize efficiency and control.
One man swung a massive club at him, the blow powerful enough to shatter the cobblestones where Dante had been standing. But Dante was already behind him, delivering a clean, precise slash that cut the weapon in half and sent the man crashing to the ground.
Another attacker tried to exploit an opening, lunging at Dante's back with a sword. Without even turning around, Dante parried the strike by angling his blade backward, then pivoted to deliver a swift strike to his opponent's wrist, disarming him with ease.
"You're good at looking scary," Dante quipped as he deflected another attack, "but that's about it."
The Alpha Emerges
With his men defeated and groaning on the ground, the leader of the group stepped forward, drawing both of his cutlasses with a flourish. His scarred face twisted into a snarl as he sized Dante up.
"You've got skill, kid, but let's see how you handle someone who knows what they're doing," the leader growled.
Dante raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. "Finally, someone who might be worth my time."
The leader charged at Dante with surprising speed, his twin blades whirling like a cyclone. His attacks were relentless, forcing Dante onto the defensive as he blocked and dodged the flurry of strikes. The sound of clashing steel echoed through the square, drawing more onlookers from the nearby streets.
"You're quick," Dante admitted as he parried a strike aimed at his neck, "but you're not precise."
The leader snarled, his attacks growing more aggressive. "Let's see you dodge this!"
He leapt into the air, bringing both blades down in a powerful overhead strike. Dante met the attack head-on, his single blade holding firm against the combined force of the twin cutlasses.
The impact sent a shockwave through the square, rattling the windows of nearby buildings. For a moment, the two combatants were locked in a contest of strength, their blades grinding against each other.
Then Dante shifted his stance, using the leader's momentum against him. With a fluid motion, he sidestepped and delivered a sharp strike to the man's side, sending him stumbling.
"Not bad," Dante said, spinning his sword with practiced ease. "But you rely too much on brute force."
The leader roared in frustration, charging at Dante once more. This time, Dante didn't give him the chance to recover. He ducked under a wild swing, delivering a precise upward slash that disarmed the man's right hand.
Before the leader could react, Dante's blade was at his throat.
"It's over," Dante said, his tone calm but firm.
The leader froze, his remaining cutlass clattering to the ground. The crowd erupted into cheers, their fear replaced by admiration for the young swordsman who had saved their town.
A New Ally
As the dust settled, the townsfolk gathered around Dante, their expressions a mix of gratitude and awe.
"Thank you," the elderly woman from before said, tears streaming down her face. "We didn't know what we were going to do."
Dante sheathed his sword, offering her a small smile. "Just doing what anyone would've done."
A young man stepped forward, his eyes shining with admiration. "You're amazing! Are you a bounty hunter? Or maybe a Marine?"
Dante shook his head. "Neither. I'm just passing through."
The young man hesitated before speaking again. "If you're looking for supplies, you can take whatever you need from the general store. It's the least we can do."
Dante nodded in thanks. "Appreciate it."
As he made his way through the crowd, a figure stepped out from the shadows. It was a girl around his age, with short black hair and a mischievous grin. She wore a simple tunic and carried a pair of daggers at her waist.
"You've got some serious skills," she said, falling into step beside him. "But you're not from around here, are you?"
Dante glanced at her, his interest piqued. "And you are?"
"Call me Lila," she said, her grin widening. "And if you're planning to stick around, you're going to need someone who knows their way around this place."
Dante chuckled. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't stick around anywhere for long."
Lila shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you ever need a guide—or a partner—I'll be around."
Dante paused, considering her words. "I'll keep that in mind."