Chapter 14: The Spirit’s Challenge

The air around me felt heavier with each step I took deeper into the ruins. It was as if the very island was guiding me, pulling me toward something unseen. I could feel it in my bones—the calling.

The mist thickened, and an unnatural chill swept through the air. The ruins, old and crumbling, stretched before me like the remnants of a forgotten battlefield. Large stone structures, once grand, now stood broken, their surfaces scarred with deep slashes—marks of past battles.

I stopped in front of what appeared to be an altar.

It was cracked and covered in ancient carvings, but one thing stood out.

A sword.

Embedded into the stone, its black blade flickered with a faint, ominous glow. The energy around it pulsed like a heartbeat, sending a cold shiver through my skin.

Then—

A voice echoed.

"So… another one comes to claim me."

I turned sharply, stepping back, hand instinctively ready for battle.

A figure materialized in front of the altar, standing tall like a guardian of this forsaken place.

He wasn't flesh and blood.

His form was ethereal, translucent yet solid, like a specter pulled from the past. His long, tattered robes swayed as if caught in an unseen wind, and his piercing eyes glowed with an eerie blue light.

A katana rested in his hands.

The way he held it—firm, steady, masterful—told me everything I needed to know.

This was no ordinary spirit.

This was a swordsman.

A true warrior from an era long gone.

The Guardian of the Blade

The spirit tilted his head slightly, observing me.

"Strange…" he murmured. "You carry the weight of warriors before you, yet you are still a child. A contradiction."

His gaze sharpened. "What is your name?"

I straightened my back. "Kozuki Momonosuke."

For a moment, his eyes narrowed. He studied me, as if searching for something.

Then, a chuckle escaped him.

"A Kozuki? Interesting." His voice carried a knowing tone. "You are far from Wano, boy. Do you even understand the weight of what you seek?"

I didn't waver. "I came here to claim that sword."

The spirit's expression darkened slightly. "So did many before you."

He gestured to the ruins around us.

"The warriors who stepped upon this land believed they were strong. They thought they could wield the cursed blade. But strength alone is meaningless before the will of the sword."

He looked at me again. "Do you believe yourself worthy?"

I clenched my fists. "I don't care if it's cursed. I will make that power my own."

The spirit smirked. "Bold words. Very well, child. If you wish to take the sword, you must prove yourself first."

His aura shifted. The very air trembled around us as his grip tightened around his katana.

"I am the guardian of this blade, the last wielder of its curse." His voice carried an ancient authority. "I am the test that determines whether you live or die in pursuit of power."

He pointed his katana at me.

"Draw your blade, boy. If you wish to claim this sword, then show me your worth!"

The Duel Begins

I didn't hesitate.

I reached for the blade at my side—a simple sword I had taken from the pirates' ship. It wasn't special, but it would serve its purpose.

The moment my feet shifted, the spirit moved.

He was fast.

Faster than anything I had ever fought before.

His blade sliced through the air, aiming for my neck in a single fluid motion.

I barely blocked in time.

CLANG!

The impact sent a shockwave through my arms, forcing me backward. My feet scraped against the stone ground, but I held my stance.

This was no ordinary opponent.

His attacks were precise, efficient, and merciless.

There was no wasted movement. No hesitation.

I gritted my teeth.

This was a master swordsman.

A warrior who had once lived and died by the blade.

If I fought carelessly—I would lose.

Learning in Battle

The spirit pressed forward, his blade moving like a storm, striking from multiple angles.

I dodged. Blocked. Countered.

But I was slower.

Each clash of our swords sent shocks through my bones, forcing me to adapt—to learn.

His style… It wasn't just brute force. It was a dance.

A rhythm of controlled slashes, quick movements, and calculated strikes.

And I had to keep up.

The Turning Point

For a long time, I was only reacting, barely holding my ground.

But then—I started to understand.

I could feel the flow of his swordsmanship.

The way he shifted his weight before attacking.

The moment of stillness right before he struck.

And then, something clicked.

Observation Haki.

For the first time in this battle, I wasn't just reacting—I was predicting.

Counterattack

The next time he moved, I was ready.

His blade came at me in a downward slash. But I was already moving.

I sidestepped before he even swung.

Then, I countered.

My blade lashed out, aiming for his shoulder—but he twisted, barely avoiding my strike.

His smirk deepened.

"You learn quickly. But let's see how much more you can endure!"

His speed increased.