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92.85% One Piece: Sorcerer in the Grand Line / Chapter 13: The Shift Within

Chapitre 13: The Shift Within

Allen's chest heaved in jerky thrusts, his feet pressed into the damp earth, and he backed slowly through the gloomy forest. The trees loomed over him, their branches clawing at the sky, creating a curtain of darkness. His limbs weighed down with fatigue, but his mind remained sharp, focused solely on the battle.

Satoru Gojo stood opposite, his cold, calculating eyes glittering with deadly calm. He moved with the precision of a predator, maintaining perfect distance, his attacks were swift, controlled, and relentless. Every strike, every movement was precise. And yet, despite his overwhelming superiority, Allen began to adapt. His body, honed by constant training, now reacted instinctively.

He blocked Gojo's punches with growing confidence and even found fleeting moments for his own counterattacks. But no matter how much his skill improved, a gnawing unease clung to him, clutching at his chest. His heart pounded like drums, and each beat was a reminder of the fine line between survival and defeat.

The wind howled through the forest, whipping up a flurry of fallen leaves, obscuring their view momentarily. Allen seized the opportunity.

He lunged forward with great speed, and his fist, filled with cursed energy, went straight into Gojo's side. The world slowed for a moment: the blow had absorbed all of Allen's power.

But Gojo had anticipated this movement long before it happened.

With a smooth step, almost too fast to perceive, Gojo slipped through the attack, his body enveloping Allen's fist. The momentum carried Allen forward, and his punch flew through the void, leaving him open. In that brief, agonizing moment, Allen realized the battle was lost.

Gojo's knee slammed into his stomach with crushing force, sweeping across Allen's body. The pain pierced him and was a visual reminder of how wide the gulf between them was. Before Allen could even open his mouth to exhale a stream of air, Gojo's elbow crashed into his head, followed by a brutal frontkick delivered with terrifying accuracy.

The air rushed out of Allen's lungs. It felt as if a freight train had slammed into him at speed, and the force of the impact knocked him off his feet. He hovered in the air briefly in weightlessness, then threw himself backward at breakneck speed. The flight ended abruptly when his back collided with the unyielding trunk of a massive tree, the impact sending a wave of pain through his body.

"Khaa..." A strained groan escaped his lips as he crumpled against the tree, his body sinking to the ground. His vision blurred, the world spinning around him in disorienting waves. His head throbbed, his stomach churned, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as it dripped slowly onto his trembling arm.

"I won," Gojo's voice cut through the haze, calm yet tinged with amusement. He stood seven meters away, his form a dark silhouette against the forest backdrop, a faint smile playing on his lips. His eyes, glinting beneath his white hair, watched Allen.

Allen's gaze lifted, his heavy breaths coming in ragged intervals. Through the strands of sweat-soaked hair hanging over his eyes, he saw Gojo standing there, composed as ever. The contrast between them could not have been starker—Gojo's effortless grace against Allen's trembling exhaustion.

"Your skills aren't bad," Gojo said, his voice smooth but laced with a seriousness that Allen couldn't ignore. "But something is holding you back."

Allen, still catching his breath, tilted his head in confusion, his body aching from the onslaught. He said nothing, waiting for Gojo to continue.

"Fear," Gojo continued, stepping closer, his expression thoughtful. "You're afraid. And it's getting in your way."

"Huh?" Allen's voice came out weak, his mind struggling to process the words through the fog of pain.

"You're too focused on not getting hit," Gojo explained, his tone matter-of-fact. "You fight like you're expecting to lose."

"Well," Allen muttered, lowering his eyes, "I guess so."

The weight of the truth in those words clung to him, a suffocating presence he could not shake.

"But I can't beat you."

Gojo chuckled softly, the sound both light and sharp. "Of course not," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. "But that's not the point. When you step into battle, you have to fight with the thought of victory in mind. Otherwise, you've already lost."

Allen's gaze fell once more, his thoughts spiraling. He knew Gojo was right, yet how could he think of victory against someone like him? A battle against Satoru Gojo seemed unwinnable—especially now, at this stage. The gap between their strength was a chasm he could barely comprehend. Even with limitations placed on Gojo, victory felt impossible. Yet, beneath Gojo's playful tone, there was a lesson he struggled to grasp.

Gojo's words hung in the air like a challenge, forcing Allen to confront the way he had been fighting. He fought to survive, to block, to dodge, but never to win – his maximum was just to try to hit him.

He had allowed his fear of defeat to cloud his purpose. Each battle was approached from a defensive stance, always on the back foot, waiting for the inevitable blow that would end it.

But Gojo wasn't just toying with him—he was teaching him.

Allen swallowed hard, his mind a whirlwind of doubt and determination. He still felt the sting of Gojo's blows, the ache in his bones, but something deeper stirred inside him. Perhaps the lesson wasn't about defeating Gojo, but about learning to fight with intent—to embrace the possibility of victory rather than merely avoiding defeat.

And so, even as his body screamed in pain, Allen nodded to himself.

"To win…" Allen whispered, the words barely escaping his lips. The concept lingered in his mind like a distant star—something shining but far away, almost unreachable.

In his heart, Satoru Gojo seemed an insurmountable force. To defeat him wasn't just to win; it was to prove that you were better, stronger, and more capable. But here, in this strange realm of training, Gojo was intentionally weakened by limitations. Allen had improved, had become a formidable fighter, but to surpass Gojo still seemed like a distant dream. Yet, the path to becoming stronger was clear—he had to find a way to win, even against impossible odds.

"Oh, and don't worry about the plan," Satoru said casually, as though discussing the weather. "As long as you keep training, you'll be ready."

Allen looked up, confused for a moment. Then the realization dawned on him.

"Right, memories…" he murmured, his voice trailing off.

Satoru had access to Allen's memories—a link Allen had allowed to help Gojo better understand his needs, to offer guidance. This was more than a mentor-student relationship; it was a deep, almost metaphysical bond, one that gave Gojo insight into Allen's thoughts, fears, feelings.

The plan. It was Allen's escape from captivity, the only one he had. Tonight, the pirates would celebrate—something grand, though Allen wasn't sure what the occasion was. He only knew their celebrations always led to heavy drinking and chaos. It was the perfect opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

But this time, he had something else. A secret power they didn't know about. His newfound cursed energy, thanks to Gojo, gave him an edge—speed and strength the pirates wouldn't expect. If he timed everything right, he could escape. He could be free.

Yet, as night approached, his heart clenched with anxiety. The closer he came to his chance for freedom, the more the weight of the risk bore down on him. It wasn't just a matter of success or failure. Success meant freedom, but failure… failure meant death.

"Satoru," Allen asked, his voice quieter, more vulnerable, "how do you deal with the thoughts of possible death?"

He looked at Satoru not just as a teacher, but as someone who had been in combat countless times, someone who stood on the brink of death. Of course, Satoru had an answer.

"None," Gojo replied bluntly.

Allen blinked, puzzled. That wasn't the answer he had expected. He stared at Gojo, who remained as calm and confident as ever.

"I never assume I might die," Gojo continued. "It's rare for an opponent to even come close to challenging me. And if they do, thinking about death is a distraction. The only thing that matters is pouring all your energy into winning—or escaping, if necessary. Though for me," he added with a wry smile, "escaping not my option."

Allen felt a mix of awe and uncertainty. Gojo spoke with such ease, as though death was simply a concept too far beneath him to consider. Of course, someone like Gojo wouldn't think about dying—his abilities placed him far above most threats.

"Yeah…" Allen exhaled, the tension in his chest loosening slightly. He leaned forward, using his knee for support, and pushed himself to his feet. The aches in his body lingered, but there was a new strength in him now—a resolve that wasn't there before

'I've already made my decision,' Allen thought to himself, his inner voice growing steadier, firmer. 'All I can do now is prepare as much as possible. Tonight, I will be free.'

He could feel the weight of his decision settle into his bones, but instead of fear, there was a fire—a determination that wouldn't be snuffed out. He'd trained, fought, and suffered long enough. Now it was time to act.

Satoru stood before him, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. He was clearly pleased, not just by Allen's words but by the transformation he could see in his student. It wasn't just about physical strength or cursed energy. It was the shift in Allen's mindset—a readiness to face whatever lay ahead.

Satoru's smile remained unchanged, but now it held a deeper warmth, reflecting the pride he felt for his student.

❖✿❖

Yo,

I have some good news.

The issues I faced seem to be resolved (I had problems with access to electricity). But now, I will be able to dedicate enough time to this work.

Starting next week, chapters will be released according to the schedule. I hope I can stick to it, hehe.

However, I will occasionally post additional chapters as well.

Schedule: Monday, Tuesday, Friday, Saturday.

If you like this story then add it to your collection and give Power Stones.


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