CHAPTER 8 — THE EDGE OF STEEL
The early morning sun reflected off the village rooftops, bathing Windmill Village in a pale gold. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the scent of baking bread mixed with salt and seaweed, a mundane perfume that held no threat.
I moved silently through the village streets, three swords strapped across my body, extra arm resting lightly against my back, senses alert. Today's goal was clear: sharpen my advantage. The supplies and gold I had taken from Shanks' crew were not
enough. I needed better weapons—blades that matched my speed, strength, and coordination.
The blacksmith's shop stood at the far edge of the village, a squat, sturdy building of stone and timber, smoke rising from its forge. I stepped inside, boots silent on the wooden floorboards.
INSIDE THE FORGE
The blacksmith, a stocky man named Balric, wiped soot from his hands and squinted at me. "Another child? You're too young to carry all that steel."
I ignored him, letting my Observation Haki scan every tool, every rack of swords, every blade hanging from the walls.
Steel. Weight. Balance. Flexibility. Edge retention. Every factor mattered.
Balric frowned. "You're serious, aren't you? You want more swords?"
I nodded slightly, keeping my focus on the array before me.
SELECTION AND CALCULATION
I moved along the racks deliberately, testing each sword with a flick of the wrist, a twist of the blade, measuring balance, weight, and feel. My extra arm flexed instinctively, assisting in the motions, while the other two
hands maintained my standard hold. Three swords at once, each with its own rhythm, each testing the Haki flow in my arms.
The first blade was long and thin, slightly curved, perfect for slashing and thrusting. The edge was keen but flexible. Good for speed and precision.
The second was heavier, a broad blade with slight imperfections in the steel, ideal for conditioning my arm's strength and testing coordination.
The third was compact, a straight, short sword with exceptional sharpness. Perfect for quick strikes, unexpected angles, and close-range efficiency.
Each blade responded differently to Haki, bending slightly to the flow of my intent. Each added a new layer to my training potential.
TRANSACTION
Gold coins counted, coins from Shanks' crew stacked neatly on the counter. Balric's hands trembled slightly as I placed them down—three times the amount a child normally brought for blades. I said nothing. My presence demanded neither praise nor question.
He handed the swords over cautiously. "Don't hurt yourself—or anyone else."
I didn't reply. I didn't need to.
I strapped the blades carefully, one in each hand, the extra arm ready for the third. The weight was balanced perfectly against my body. Training potential multiplied. Each arm could wield a sword independently, each movement precise, coordinated, and deadly.
TESTING THE BLADES
Outside the forge, I cleared a small patch of ground near the forest edge. Observation Haki flared automatically, measuring wind, gravity, and the subtle tension of muscles in my arms. Armament Haki coated each blade lightly, enough to reinforce their edges without drawing attention. Conqueror's Haki pulsed faintly, a soft undercurrent I barely noticed but could feel in nearby animals and air currents.
I began the routine:
First swing: left hand, slicing a tree branch at precise angles, sending clean cuts into the wood.
Second swing: right hand, testing heavier strikes against stone and smaller trunks.
Third swing: extra arm, spinning the sword in controlled arcs, slashing at targets from unpredictable angles.
The forest responded. Leaves shredded cleanly. Branches fell where they should. Nothing wasted. Nothing misaligned.
Each motion honed Observation Haki further. My body absorbed the weight of the new steel as if it had grown with me. Armament Haki layered over steel, edges enhanced by my intent. Conqueror's Haki simmered, a quiet pressure, a reminder of dominance, pulsing faintly against the edges of the clearing.
EFFICIENT TRAINING
I moved continuously. No breaks. No pause
for exhaustion. Every motion added precision, strength, and coordination. The extra arm had adapted completely, moving independently but harmonized with the other two. Each sword cut through the air with a distinct rhythm, a unique layer of training, each swing reinforcing Haki, timing, and intent.
By midday, the three blades hummed faintly with energy, edges honed, balance perfect, and my body completely synchronized.
Ace and Sabo watched quietly from the edge of the clearing. Ace grinned. "Damn… you never stop, huh?"
Sabo nodded, expression thoughtful. "Efficiency. Precision. Ruthless, but effective."
I didn't respond. Words were wasted. Motion and action said everything necessary.
The sun burned high above Windmill Village.
Three swords rested across three arms, glinting faintly in the light.
Observation, Armament, Conqueror's—all aligned perfectly.
And I already calculated the next moves.
The world had not yet caught up.
But it would.