When Kavi finished his breakfast and stepped outside, he spotted Mihawk dueling with a baboon.
It was the same leader baboon from yesterday, and a crowd of its followers had gathered to watch the fight, as if spectating a grand tournament.
Kavi raised an eyebrow. 'This monkey again?'
To his surprise, every move the baboon made mirrored Mihawk's technique with uncanny precision.
Its swings, stances, and rhythm had clearly evolved from imitation to mastery. Its strength was already approaching 80% of Mihawk's.
Mihawk was, in effect, fighting himself.
'No wonder he's improved so fast,' Kavi mused.
'This island is practically a training ground custom-built for swordfighters. That baboon's going to become a force of nature someday.'
He scratched his head. 'Still… aren't the animals in this world a little too smart? Between kung fu manatees and haki-wielding monkeys, this place is a zoologist's fever dream.'
Kavi sighed. 'If the Golden Lion had trained a bunch of Armament Haki beasts, maybe he really could've taken over the world.
Too bad a ship rudder smashed his head in. Ended the dream and the biology lesson in one go.'
Refocusing on the battle, Kavi watched Mihawk and the baboon clash with heavy blows.
The leader baboon gripped a massive cross-shaped sword and swung it with the grace of a seasoned warrior.
From afar, you might have mistaken it for a man in costume.
Spotting Kavi in the distance, Mihawk narrowed his eyes. It was time to end this.
He stepped up his attacks, abandoning restraint. In a blur of strikes, the baboon was knocked back and sent tumbling across the ground.
But it didn't seem angry—more like contemplative. It gave Mihawk a respectful glance, then turned to leave with its troop.
It would return.
It had dreams too.
It would defeat Mihawk.
It would become… the Sword King of the Island.
'Even baboons have goals, these days,' Kavi thought. 'If a baboon has no ambition, is it even a baboon anymore?'
After the baboons retreated, Mihawk jogged up to Kavi, eyes shining with anticipation.
"Senior, can you teach me now?"
Kavi didn't answer. He simply walked to a nearby tree and plucked a single leaf.
"Follow me."
Mihawk obeyed, curiosity growing.
Kavi stood before the tree, holding the leaf gently between his fingers. It was nothing special—no Armament Haki, no tricks.
"Watch closely."
He flicked his wrist.
Swish.
A whisper of movement, and—
CRACK.
The massive tree groaned and toppled, cleaved cleanly in half at an angle. The stump was smooth as glass.
Mihawk's jaw dropped.
"H-How—?!"
He ran to the tree and placed a trembling hand on the stump. There were no jagged edges, no signs of force—just a perfect, seamless cut.
He looked at the leaf in Kavi's hand. An ordinary leaf.
No Haki. No sword.
Just intent.
Just swordsmanship.
Kavi twirled the leaf. "Still think you've mastered the blade, kid?"
Mihawk was frozen, breath shallow.
Kavi continued, his tone casual.
"You think cutting a boulder makes you a swordsman? I was ten when I mastered basic swordplay.
By twenty, I had learned every style—fast, slow, soft, heavy. By thirty, I was undefeated. At forty, I reached unity between man and blade. And by fifty—"
He flicked the leaf again. "—I no longer needed a sword."
A surge of sword intent burst from Kavi. Mihawk staggered back. It was as if invisible blades surrounded him.
His skin stung. He could barely lift his head.
Behind Kavi, Mihawk saw an illusion—a monstrous sword, towering behind the old man like a god of war.
A single thought echoed in his mind:
'This man… this is what it means to wield the sword.'
Kavi smirked. "Well, kid? Do you want to learn?"
Mihawk's fists clenched. "Yes, Senior. Please teach me."
In his heart, a name surfaced—Kallen Rosa.
Once, Rosa had been a rival. Now, she was a goal. Mihawk would surpass her. No, he had to. Especially with a teacher like this.
Rosa's master? He didn't care. There was no way they were stronger than the man standing before him.
Kavi, of course, had no idea what the boy was thinking.
Nor did he care. He pulled something from his system inventory—a set of weighted gear left over from Rosa's training days.
He tossed it at Mihawk. "Put this on. We're starting."
Mihawk stared at the gear. "Weighted training?"
"You want to learn swordsmanship? First, build the body to carry it."
Without complaint, Mihawk strapped the gear on. It added about a hundred kilograms, but he could still move—barely.
Kavi led him to a cliff's edge and pointed to the ocean.
"Swim around the island. Twice."
Mihawk blinked. "Twice?"
"In the morning. Then we'll talk about swords this afternoon."
And with that, Kavi turned and strolled back to the castle, humming. Wine, tea, and a good chair waited for him. Let the boy struggle.
Mihawk, meanwhile, took a deep breath and leapt into the sea.
The weights dragged him down immediately. Panic rose, but he kicked harder, muscles burning.
This was insane.
But he would endure it.
Because he wanted to become the strongest.