Night had settled over Windmill Village, and at last, the small cottage grew quiet. Ace and Ann lay in their beds, but neither could sleep. Their eyes were wide open, still glittering with excitement.
And the reason? Their troublesome uncle had dragged them to the seaside that night.
"Little Ace thinks he can beat his invincible uncle?" Ritter cleared his throat dramatically, drawing the massive black greatsword, Black Tide. This time, no dark mist or blood-red aura coiled around the blade only a pure, focused slash.
"Watch closely! This was your father's signature move back in the day!"
With a single swift motion, Ritter swung his sword. A blade of energy split through the air, slicing the distant waves perfectly in half and revealing the sandy seabed beneath. He froze in a heroic stance, posing dramatically for effect, waiting for the kids' reaction.
The two little ones gawked, eyes round as saucers. "Waaah!"
Ritter pressed a finger to his lips. "Shh! Keep it low-key!"
"Uncle, please teach us! Please!" Ace begged, his eyes sparkling as he hugged Ritter's left leg. Ann quickly joined from the other side, clutching his right leg with both hands.
Ritter sighed, grabbed them each by the collar, and tossed them gently back into bed bringing them back to the scene now unfolding.
Ace rolled over, whispering excitedly, "Hey, Ann! Did you see that? Uncle's move 'Divine Avoidance!' Whoosh! He sliced the air open!" He waved his hands dramatically, nearly falling off the bed.
Ann hugged her sunflower plushie tightly and nodded with a quiet "mm," but her bright blue eyes betrayed her wonder.
Ace clenched his fists. "Tomorrow, I have to learn that move! Once I do, even Grandpa Garp won't be able to beat me!"
(Garp, somewhere sneezing: "He called me Grandpa! Not old man! I'm so proud… Sniff… Retracting one Iron Fist of Love.")
Ann turned her back to him, hiding a small, amused smile curling at her lips.
When dawn broke, Ace was already bursting with energy. He kicked open Ritter's door, yelling, "Uncle! Wake up! You promised to teach us today!"
Ritter blinked blearily, half-asleep. Before he could react, Ace was already yanking his arm. "Come on, come on! The sun's up!"
"You brat…" Ritter groaned, rubbing his eyes. "You know waking people up too early has consequences, right? It's called 'Divine Avoidance'!"
A blur later, Ace was airborne.
As he flew out of the house, he still managed to shout mid-flight, "Don't forget to teach us, Uncle!"
Ritter sighed. "…Unbelievable."
Ann stood quietly by the bed, sunflower doll in hand, her crystal-blue eyes fixed earnestly on him. She tugged at his finger as if to say, Me too.
Ritter couldn't help smiling. "Alright, alright. You win."
He slung Black Tide over his shoulder and followed them into the yard.
Stretching lazily, he said, "Okay, let's see what you've got. Ace, you first. Show me what old man Garp's been teaching you."
Ace straightened up, clutching a wooden stick like a sword. "Bring it on!"
Ritter broke off a tree branch and smirked. "This'll do. Wouldn't want you crying that I bullied a kid."
Ace puffed out his chest. "Don't underestimate me! I'm the man who'll become the King of the Pirates!"
"Oh?" Ritter chuckled. "So you're planning to steal my sister's man?"
Ace froze, face turning beet red. "Wha Uncle! What kind of thing is that to say?!"
Ann didn't laugh, but her bright eyes shimmered with amusement. She gripped her own wooden sword, eager to begin.
"Patience, patience," Ritter said with a grin, snapping his branch into two shorter sticks. He handed one to each of them. "Let's start simple. Show me how you swing and block. Let's see what your bodies can handle."
Ace frowned. "Huh? Body ah-chee? What's that? Grandpa Garp just makes us run from wild boars every day!"
Ritter raised a brow. "Oh really? Then let's see what all that boar-chasing taught you."
Ace charged forward with a yell, swinging his stick wildly. Ritter barely moved just tilted his wrist and tap! The tip of his branch poked Ace right on the forehead.
Before the boy could react, Ritter hoisted him high overhead. "Ace, don't hate me for this! Uncle loves you but you need to experience what I went through as a kid. Fly, my boy!"
"Whoosh!"
A perfect throw. Ace landed headfirst in the sand outside the yard, his legs kicking helplessly in the air.
He pulled himself free, rubbing his forehead indignantly. "Uncle! What the heck was that for?!"
Still, he charged again. This time, his movements were sharper more focused. The wooden sword sliced the air toward Ritter's side. Ritter smirked, turned slightly, and parried with ease.
"Not bad," he said approvingly. "Guess Garp's training isn't all punching after all."
Ace beamed proudly. "Told you! I'm gonna be the King of " He stopped short, realizing how that sounded again.
Ritter chuckled, then looked toward Ann. "Your turn."
Ann nodded. Her small hands tightened around the wooden sword. Unlike Ace, she didn't rush in. She breathed slowly, focused and then stepped forward, bringing her blade down in a clean, powerful arc.
Clack!
Ritter caught it, surprised at the weight behind her strike. "Whoa. You're stronger than you look."
Ann blinked, silently asking, How was that?
Ritter reached out and ruffled her hair. "Pretty good. Way better than Ace."
"Hey!" Ace shouted, jumping up. "I wasn't even going full power!"
Ritter laughed. "Then show me, champ."
Ace lunged again, this time teaming up with Ann. The two attacked from opposite sides clumsy, but surprisingly coordinated. Ritter blocked every strike with one hand, grinning proudly as the rhythm of their teamwork started to emerge.
They've got good instincts, he thought. That old man Garp's done a fine job laying the foundation.
Moments later, both kids were flat on their backs, panting but smiling. Ritter stood over them, amused. "So, besides dodging wild boars, did Garp teach you anything else?"
Ace rubbed the bump on his head, raising a hand. "Yeah! The Iron Fist of Love! I can take three hits before I black out!"
Ann quietly lifted two fingers. She can take two.
Ritter froze. "…"
He sighed. "Perfect. Equal opportunity trauma. Well done, Garp."
He crouched down, looking at the two tired but beaming faces. The golden morning light bathed them, and for a fleeting moment, Ritter felt something warm stir in his chest.
Maybe, just maybe, this was what peace felt like a loud, messy, loving kind of peace.
And as the waves crashed softly in the distance, Ace and Ann's laughter filled the air bright and unrestrained while Ritter leaned back, smiling.
"Alright, brats," he said, tapping his branch against his shoulder. "Let's see if you can survive lesson two."
The Iron Fist of Love, it seemed, would soon have worthy successors.
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