Bab 196: Chapter 196
The loss of my blade affected me more than I had anticipated, and I channeled my Voice of All Things without holding back. Following the old man's instructions and my instincts, I was in perfect harmony with the blade we were forging. It had been nearly half a day since we started, and the night sky was clear, the full moon shining brightly.
The tempering of the blade continued for another hour or two. Finally, as the final blade began to take shape, Kozaburo roared at his son while extending his sword arm over the blazing flames, which were fueled by a material far more potent than coal. The embryo of the blade shimmered within the hot flames as Kozaburo yelled again at his son, who stood transfixed, holding a blade.
"But... but father, is this necessary? I am sure your granddaughter wouldn't mind a regular blade. Why would you cripple yourself?" Koushirou roared back in frustration. He thought this was madness. According to Kozaburo, each of the 12 Supreme Grade blades and many of the 21 Great Grade blades were forged with sacrifices of some kind.
This forging had already used the blood of a massive sea king, but the old man felt that it did not show enough resolve. He was offering something to the blade that he considered even more valuable than his own life—his swordsmanship and the ability to smith weapons. Koushirou was being ordered to sever his father's arm.
I did not know if what the old man said was true or not, but I could tell that Kozaburo was determined. If Koushirou did not do it, he would self-mutilate. Miyamoto finally stepped up, placing a comforting hand on Koushirou's shoulder while prying the blade from his hand. He then turned and bowed deeply to the man, willing to give everything for the birth of a new weapon.
Before Koushirou could react and protest, Miyamoto swung his blade, severing the old man's sword arm. It fell into the blue flames alongside the sword embryo. Blood sizzled, but Kozaburo did not show an ounce of discomfort.
His concentration was entirely on the forging process. Despite being occupied with the forging, I used my lightning to quickly cauterize the old man's stump, ensuring the blood loss wouldn't impede him from completing his masterpiece. I wanted to make sure the old man did not miss the birth of his own creation.
A few miles out from the island, Mihawk and Shanks stood at the bow of their ship, their faces filled with shock as they witnessed the phenomenon materializing over the island. Even the sea seemed to freeze due to the aura being released from whatever was causing this phenomenon. The ethereal silhouette of a maiden in white danced over the entire island, attracting the attention of everyone on Shanks' crew.
Buggy couldn't help but gulp and question, "Are you guys seeing what I'm seeing?" There was no way they would miss such an unexplained phenomenon. Mihawk, who owned a Supreme Grade blade himself, could feel it in his very bones.
"It's the birth of a Supreme!" he whispered as Yoru vibrated dangerously, as if welcoming a new brethren into the world.
The forging process reached its climax as Kozaburo's determination and sacrifice infused the blade with an unprecedented aura. The blade glowed with a brilliance that rivaled the moonlight.
The ethereal maiden's dance intensified, and her movements synchronized with the rhythm of the hammer strikes. The entire island seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with anticipation.
As the final hammer strike landed, the blade erupted in a burst of light. The ethereal maiden's silhouette merged with the blade, and a shockwave of power rippled through the island, reaching far into the sea. The energy was palpable, a testament to the birth of a Supreme Grade blade.
The night sky lit up with an otherworldly glow, the blade's aura piercing through the heavens. The maiden's image lingered for a moment before fading into the blade, which now rested in the forge, complete and perfect. The blade shimmered with an ethereal light, its presence commanding respect and awe.
Kozaburo, despite his sacrifice, stood tall, his eyes filled with pride and satisfaction. "This is it," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence. "The 13th Supreme Grade Blade."
As the island slowly returned to normal, the realization of what had transpired settled in. The birth of a Supreme Grade blade was a rare and momentous event, and everyone present knew they had witnessed something extraordinary. The blade, a testament to Kozaburo's skill, sacrifice, and determination, would go down in history as one of the greatest weapons ever forged.
"Hahahaha!" The old man bellowed in madness and victory. How long? How long had he chased the opportunity to forge a blade like this? He had finally done it, achieving his long-cherished dream.
Tears of bliss flowed down his face as he lovingly caressed the white-hot blade, treating it like a cherished daughter. Miraculously, the blade did not burn him. Composing himself with a deep breath, he observed the scene: the entire smithy had frozen over, and even the flames created by the strange substance had crystallized into ice.
"You should name it, Kozaburo-san," I suggested from the side, truly happy to have been part of such a monumental event in history. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. How many could boast of witnessing the birth of a Supreme Grade blade and participating in its forging? Kozaburo, however, turned to me and bowed deeply, despite our difference in age.
"Thank you... Thank you, Ross-Kun. I once held bitterness because you subdued Akatsuki, a blade passed down through our line for generations. Despite knowing this, you helped me achieve my dream. I thank you wholeheartedly," the old man said humbly. I waved it off, as my observation Haki had already picked up the newcomers approaching the island, and I couldn't help but smirk.
Turning my attention back to the blade, I marveled at its beauty. The blade itself was a masterpiece. It gleamed with an ethereal light, the metal resembling pure, untouched snow. The blade was slender and elegant, with intricate patterns of frost etched into its surface. The attachments, which had been set aside, complemented the blade perfectly. They were adorned with delicate snowflake motifs and shimmering white ribbons.
"Sode no Shirayuki! Yes, that will be her name," the old man said in reverence. He immediately set to work on combining the complete sword, now that the blade had been successfully formed.
Kozaburo carefully attached the hilt, guard, and pommel, each piece meticulously prepared beforehand. The hilt was wrapped in pristine white silk, matching the blade's snowy appearance.
The guard was an intricate design of interlocking snowflakes, delicate yet sturdy. As he secured the ribbon, a long, flowing strip of white fabric that extended from the hilt, it fluttered like a wisp of frost in the air.
With each component in place, the final blade was a sight to behold. Sode no Shirayuki radiated an aura of both beauty and deadly precision. The white ribbon, now securely fastened, trailed gracefully, enhancing the blade's ethereal quality. The sword was a perfect blend of artistry and power, a testament to Kozaburo's unmatched skill and dedication.
Kozaburo held the completed blade aloft, its gleam reflecting the moonlight streaming through the smithy. "Behold, Sode no Shirayuki," he declared, his voice filled with pride and reverence.
Even Koushirou, who was not yet convinced of his father's actions, could not bring himself to reprimand his father for his rashness because, as a swordsman himself, he knew what the birth of a Supreme-Grade blade meant. While Kozaburo meticulously admired every inch of the weapon, Koushirou started tending to his father's severed arm. Though it had been cauterized, he wanted to ensure it did not cause more harm.
Meanwhile, on the ship, Shanks' eyes were filled with a glint. "Mihawk, are you absolutely sure that it's a Supreme Grade blade?" He couldn't help but ask. His usual nonchalance was lost, and his face was filled with seriousness.
Shanks was determined to reach the top of the world, and he knew he couldn't settle for a subpar blade. Even his former captain carried a Supreme Grade blade as he conquered the sea, so he wanted one of his own. The current blade he carried was the one that they had recently acquired from the auction.
Mihawk, however, warned him immediately, seeing through Shanks' thoughts. "Shanks, we may not have known each other for long, but you hosted me with respect despite our differences. So, a word of advice: do not act rashly. For all we know, it might be Ross' blade. If you covet his things, I can guarantee it would not end well for you and your crew. And if you truly plan to challenge him for the blade, I would have to intervene on Ross' behalf," he added, dousing cold water on Shanks' ambitions.
Shanks sighed, his eagerness tempered by Mihawk's words. He knew Mihawk was right. Ross was not someone to be trifled with, and challenging him for the blade could lead to dire consequences. But the allure of a Supreme Grade blade was hard to resist.
"Oye! Shanks, you bastard! Were you guys talking about Ross all this time?" Buggy interjected, his voice laced with frustration. The mention of Ross brought back a flood of unpleasant memories for him.
The countless times he had been pummeled by Ross in what he could only describe as one-sided sparring sessions. Even their captain had tried and failed to recruit Ross multiple times.
"Are you mad? That guy just beats us every time we meet him," Buggy continued animatedly, his face contorted with a mix of irritation and grudging respect.
"Calm down, Buggy. We've grown stronger," Shanks replied jovially, though there was a twinkle of determination in his eyes. "Who knows? Maybe we've already caught up with him. It has been years since we last clashed with him."
Mihawk, standing to the side, couldn't help but snort. "Catch up with Ross?" he muttered under his breath. Shanks had grand dreams, and while he was indeed a formidable pirate with the potential to stand at the very apex of the world, Ross was an anomaly—a force of nature unlike anything they had faced. Mihawk decided it was better for Shanks to learn this the hard way, just as he had years ago.
Back at the forge, Kozaburo continued to admire Sode no Shirayuki. The blade shimmered with an ethereal glow, its pristine white surface almost too pure to be real.
The intricate patterns of frost and snowflakes etched into the blade seemed to dance in the moonlight. Kozaburo's tears of joy continued to flow as he held the blade aloft.
Koushirou, having finished tending to his father's arm, couldn't help but be awed by the blade. Despite his earlier reluctance, at the end of the day, this blade was forged for his own daughter. "Father, you've done something truly remarkable. This blade... it's a masterpiece."
As the night wore on, unknown to most of its inhabitants, the small village of Shimotsuki was transformed into a place of legend. The birth of a Supreme Grade blade was an event that would be spoken of for generations. The old man's sacrifice and determination had paid off, and the world had gained a new, unparalleled weapon.
"Quick, we need to find out exactly where the blade is. If possible, get the blade and run far away from here as soon as possible," Shanks said with a chuckle, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he leaped onto the shore.
Mihawk shook his head, knowing that the new Supreme Grade blade had something to do with Ross. Even if Ross wasn't directly involved, Mihawk had already planned to acquire the blade and gift it to his friend bound by blood. If it came to it, he was prepared to fight Shanks to the death for it.
"Well, well, well, two Shichibukai gracing such a remote island in the East Blue. What a coincidence," I commented teasingly as I materialized next to Buggy, pressing his red nose. Except for Shanks and Mihawk, everyone drew their weapons in surprise. Buggy jumped back, rubbing his nose, realizing what had just happened.
"You bastard, Ross! What do you think you're doing to my nose?" He roared, glaring at me.
"Long time, no see!" Shanks greeted enthusiastically, his mood brightening despite the tense atmosphere. He quickly added, "Ross, tell me honestly—was that phenomenon created by the birth of a Supreme Grade blade?" His eagerness was palpable, though he already suspected the answer.
"Yes," I confirmed, turning my attention to Shanks' crew. "And don't even think about claiming it. That blade doesn't belong to you. Your own blade must be waiting for you out there somewhere in the vast ocean."
As I spoke, I couldn't help but notice the presence of Shanks' crew. Though they sensed the threat from my arrival, they stood their ground. I was surprised by Buggy's growth. He had unlocked both Observation Haki and Armament Haki. The potential he now displayed was impressive.
I had often wondered if a man of Roger's stature would take a weakling as an apprentice on his ship. Shanks was an undeniable powerhouse, but this version of Buggy seemed to embody the true potential of one of Roger's apprentices. The fate of Buggy has indeed changed since my arrival in this world.
Shanks, whose mood was darkened by the refusal, was not ready to give up. As a pirate, he was determined to at least make an attempt. Giving up without trying was not in his nature.
Unbeknownst to others, Mihawk was in shock. His eyes were fixed on one of the two long blades strapped to my side, which seemed even superior to his Yoru. Yoru, which had never reacted in such a manner before, was resonating with a deep, almost primal urge to clash.
Even the earlier birth of a Supreme Grade blade hadn't evoked such a powerful response. For now, Mihawk chose not to question his friend in front of Shanks and his crew. He had decided to stay in the East Blue, as Ross had promised to spar with him to his heart's content. Mihawk intended to continue his journey only after breaking through his current bottleneck.
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A/N:
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