A lively clamor erupted from the docks of Shimotsuki Village's harbor.
"Whoa! What's Sora up to?"
"No way—he's not gonna fight that giant, is he?"
"Can't be! The size and strength gap's too huge!"
"Hard to say. It is Sora, after all."
"Yeah, yeah! Sora's crazy strong!"
The dockside crowd buzzed with curiosity, watching the standoff on the sea. They'd seen Sora train with mountain-sized barbell plates on the beach, but the sheer size difference between him and his opponent sparked concern.
Sora stood before the small boat, facing Ivankov's crew, who were laughing uproariously. A grin tugged at his lips as he shouted, "Emporio Ivankov!"
Ivankov turned, leaning forward, his massive head looming over the boat's bow, casting a shadow across the sea. Sora stood squarely in that shadow.
Peering down, Ivankov asked, surprised, "Cute boy, you know me?"
"I'm here to spar. Get serious, or you might die," Sora replied, sidestepping the question and stating his intent.
He bent his left leg, stepping back with his right, leaning forward. Eyes locked on Ivankov, his right hand slowly gripped Wado Ichimonji's hilt, poised to strike.
Ivankov seemed genuinely rattled by Sora's intensity. His head jerked back, sweat beading, hands waving frantically. "P-please, hold on! Don't pull out that weapon! It's dangerous—dangerous! One hit could k-k-kill…"
Retreating to the boat's center, he suddenly stood tall, arms raised, and roared, "But it won't kill me!"
"It won't kill him!"
"Fooled us again!"
The crew's wild laughter echoed.
Sora's lips twitched. This guy's not taking me seriously at all!
His grip tightened, arm bulging as a faint black aura—Armament Haki—coiled from the hilt to the blade. His Haki was still weak, only able to coat the sword lightly.
Eyes fixed on Ivankov's neck, Sora's feet blurred, stomping the sea dozens of times in an instant.
"Shave!"
Whoosh!
The sea beneath him cratered, and he shot toward Ivankov at blinding speed.
Ivankov, sensing something, spun and winked his left eye.
"Hell Wink!"
A shockwave blasted forward.
Sora, caught in its path, drew his sword in a flash.
"Shave: Razor Slash!"
Boom!
A shockwave exploded outward from the collision.
Sora held against the Hell Wink for mere seconds before its force hurled him backward, skidding across the sea, carving a long trench. He stopped dozens of meters away.
Watching the small boat drift with the blast's wake, Sora's excitement gave way to a flicker of gravity. So strong. Just a casual move, and it's this powerful. Gotta go all out.
Rising from the sea, he stood on its surface, not a drop of water on him.
The boat's crew cheered wildly. "There it is! Lady Ivankov's totally normal wink—Hell Wink!"
Inazuma stood calmly aside, unfazed. Though the rocking boat swayed her, her legs stayed rooted, unshaken.
She raised her wine glass, sipped, and glanced at Ivankov. "Lady Ivankov, we can't fight at sea. This boat won't hold."
"Hmm. I can tell Cute Boy's got no malice—just wants a real spar," Ivankov said, eyeing the creaking boat. Looking at Sora, he shouted, "Hey, Cute Boy!"
"What?" Sora called back.
"For a spar, let's hit land! If you want me serious, give me room to shine!"
Sora glanced awkwardly at the straining boat, twirled Wado Ichimonji in a flashy flourish, and sheathed it. Turning, he strode across the water toward the dock. "Follow me!"
"Sora, you okay?" the crowd swarmed him as he boarded the dojo's boat.
Sora waved dismissively, grinning. "Me? Fine. Just a test. We'll go at it for real once they hit shore."
"Still fighting? That shockwave nearly blew me away!" Ahua exclaimed dramatically.
The others nodded.
A chorus of greetings rose from the village.
"Morning, Mr. Koshiro!"
"Morning, old man!"
"Why's Mr. Koshiro out today?"
"Heard the commotion, thought I'd stretch my legs."
Koshiro, all smiles, nodded and chatted with the fishermen.
Hearing him, the boat's crew turned, spotting Koshiro approaching. They scrambled ashore.
The Isshin Dojo sat on a hillside behind the harbor, close enough to oversee the port. Koshiro reached the boat, waiting for everyone to disembark before addressing Iku. "Uncle Iku, what's going on? I heard the ruckus from way back."
Iku summarized the situation. Koshiro's gaze shifted to Sora behind him.
"Sora, you're too reckless!"
Sora shrugged, muttering, "Not my fault. Every time I spar with you this year, Master, you half-ass it!"
His eyes lit up, voice eager. "Now I've got a real opponent. I need this fight to know where I stand!"
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Koshiro's calm face. Sora's constant sparring requests had worn him down, especially this year since Sora reached the Swordmaster realm. The frequency had spiked, and Koshiro, hating hassle, had grown increasingly lax. He'd stayed at Isshin Dojo to avoid trouble, after all.
At the Swordmaster level, casual spars offered little growth. True progress demanded all-out battles, but neither he nor Sora could go full throttle—Swordmaster strikes were too lethal, risking severe injury.
Thud!
Koshiro glanced toward the sound, locking eyes with Ivankov, who'd just stepped ashore. Pushing up his glasses, he dropped his usual squinting smile.
"What's a big shot like you doing in the East Blue, in a backwater like Shimotsuki Village?"
"I could say the same. Didn't expect a powerhouse like you here," Ivankov replied, his face serious. Sora posed little threat, but Koshiro's presence was different—his aura, like a beacon in the dark, blazed to those of similar strength unless deliberately hidden.
"What brings you here?" Koshiro asked Ivankov's group.
"No need to tense up. We're just restocking—buying some grain," Inazuma said, stepping forward, elegantly swirling her wine glass. She sipped before continuing.
"Grain?" Sora cut in, eyeing Ivankov. "Little Ivankov, beat me, and I'll make sure you get all you want."
"Hey, 'Little Ivankov' is too casual!" Ivankov's crew protested.
"It's Okama King Ivankov!" one shouted.
Ivankov grinned, unfazed. "Quiet, boys. Names don't matter. Call me poop, and I wouldn't care."
Poop?! The crowd fell silent, staring at his theatrics.
Suddenly, he spun in place, arms raised, and bellowed, "But I don't wanna be called poop!"
"He doesn't like it!"
"Tricked again!"
His crew roared with laughter.
Sora's body trembled, face darkening. "You guys—how much do you have to disrespect me to treat me like this?!"
In a flash, he teleported behind Ivankov. Before anyone could react, he kicked Ivankov's backside.
Thud!
Ivankov's massive frame crashed forward, kicking up dust.
Sora exhaled, satisfied. Their constant dismissal had grated on him. Landing smoothly where Ivankov had stood, he said, "Now will you take me seriously?"
"What'd you do to Lady Ivankov?!" Ippu and the crew glared at Sora.
Inazuma, who'd been sipping wine beside Ivankov, froze, realizing something. She stepped back, hands lowered, eyeing Sora warily. That speed—no, not speed. Even the fastest can't go undetected.
"You ate a Space-type Devil Fruit," she said.
Sora ignored her, focusing on Ivankov, sensing a rising aura. Finally getting serious?
"Easy, Inazuma," Ivankov said, sitting up, curious. "What was that move just now?"
"Beat me, and I'll tell you," Sora replied.
"Deal!" Ivankov stood, scanning the area, then pointing to the beach left of the harbor. "Can't fight here. Let's go there—plenty of space."
He turned to Inazuma and the crew. "Wait for me. I'll spar with… with…" He paused, looking at Sora. "What's your name, kid?"
"Sora. Sky's Sora, vast Sora," Sora said, deadpan.
Ivankov's lips twitched. He turned, striding toward the beach. "Hey, Little Ivankov, wait up!" Sora called, hurrying after. Ivankov walked faster.
(End of Chapter)