One Piece pirates salty life

Leo narrowed his eyes, feeling the cold rush of danger. It was already too late to mount a proper defense.

A deep sigh escaped his lips. As he had expected, the gap in combat experience was glaringly obvious. Despite his formidable strength, he had inadvertently placed himself at a disadvantage.

The magical energy within his body surged like a tempest, coalescing into an intricate, shimmering pattern beneath his feet. The glowing runes pulsed with power, humming softly as they intertwined in a sacred geometry.

In the blink of an eye, Leo vanished, his figure shifting far away from Mihawk's reach.

From the black blade in Mihawk's hand, a razor-sharp slash cut through the air—and where Leo had just been, it crashed straight into the ice.

"Shh!"

Like slicing through soft tofu, the sword energy cleanly severed a huge slab of ice from the frozen surface of the sea. The ice, clear as glass, glittered under the sunlight like a mirror, fractured into perfect pieces by the sheer force of the strike.

Mihawk's sharp eyes widened in surprise. He had always believed the icy domain belonged exclusively to him. Yet here was Leo, seemingly able to disappear in an instant—an ability he had not anticipated.

"What an unusual power," Mihawk muttered, lowering his blade. "To vanish from my sight like that... Is this why you call yourself a magician?"

Leo shrugged helplessly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Who knows? I won't try to face you head-on again."

Though Leo's power rivaled Mihawk's, his lack of battlefield experience weighed heavily on him. Facing a swordsman of Mihawk's caliber meant that any mistake could be fatal—there was no room for trial and error.

As a swordsman, Mihawk's attacks were lethal and swift. Leo's magic patterns amplified his strength and resilience but offered only limited defense. He needed a smarter approach.

Mihawk's cold gaze sharpened. "I'm looking forward to your next move. Show me what you've got."

Without waiting for a reply, Mihawk stood poised, eyes locked on Leo like a predator sizing up its prey.

Leo's magic surged again, concentrating fiercely. From the glowing sigils beneath his feet, an even more intricate pattern began to unfurl—complex and enigmatic, imbued with frost-like symbols.

The air around them seemed to freeze, the waves that had danced on the sea's surface stilled as if time itself had paused.

A sudden chill swept through Leo's hair as the sea breeze turned icy cold. The walking stick in his hand trembled subtly, its surface etched with mystical patterns that glowed faintly.

Then, in a blur, Leo reappeared directly in front of Mihawk, the cold air around him drawn into the staff like a vacuum.

He swung the walking stick without hesitation. The strike was clean, unadorned, and direct—power concentrated into a single moment.

"Boom!"

Mihawk barely raised his black blade in time to block. The impact surged through his arms, the force so immense it sent him flying across the ice.

The sharp collision sent a shockwave of chilling air rushing through the void.

At the edge of the ice, Mihawk struggled to maintain his defensive stance, only to find himself trapped—entombed in thousands of meters of deep blue ice.

Heavy breaths escaped Mihawk's lips, steaming in the freezing air, as frost crept over his battered frame. Even his signature hat and flowing cape were tattered from the brutal cold.

Meanwhile, Leo stood on the newly-formed ice, chest heaving as the magic drained from his limbs.

This was the first time he had pushed his magic power to such an extreme. The once-dry meridians in his body throbbed painfully, dull aches reminding him of his limits. But the pain was fading—dissolving like mist.

He stared at the frozen Mihawk, anticipation twisting in his gut. Had he won?

Though he had used nearly 80% of his magical reserves, Leo was uncertain. Mihawk's resilience was legendary—he wasn't sure if this was enough to claim victory.

From the frozen ice came the faint sound of cracking—click, click—as fractures spider-webbed across the deep blue block.

Suddenly, dark green slashes tore through the ice, breaking it apart like a jagged puzzle.

Mihawk emerged, exhausted but alive. His breath was ragged, puffing out clouds of mist in the bitter air. His entire figure was covered in frost, a white sheen that shimmered on his battered clothes.

"It was a powerful blow... I nearly died in there," Mihawk admitted with a dry laugh.

He flashed a glance at Leo, a grudging respect gleaming in his eyes. "You truly deserve to be called the world's greatest swordsman."

Leo blinked in surprise. By all rights, Mihawk should have been badly injured. Yet here he was, nonchalantly brushing off the damage as if it were nothing.

It was clear that those who lived in the world of the Pirate King possessed extraordinary physical endurance—something Leo needed to strive toward.

Landing lightly on his coffin-shaped boat, Mihawk didn't launch another attack. Instead, he sheathed his black blade behind his back, a clear sign that the previous strike had taken its toll.

Since Mihawk had no intention of continuing the fight, Leo lowered his staff, relief flooding through him.

This battle had crystallized a vital lesson for him. Despite having reached peak strength, combat experience remained the key to true mastery. Only through constant battle could he sharpen his skills.

Long-range magical attacks were impressive, but the warriors at the highest levels were built to endure. Leo realized his magic patterns had to evolve further—layer upon layer—to increase his defenses and stamina.

While Leo pondered this, far away on the deck of the Baratie restaurant ship, Luffy and his crew watched in awe.

The shockwaves from the fight between Leo and Mihawk rippled through them all—no less striking than Zoro's steely calm in the face of death.

"It... this was real?" Creek swallowed hard, eyes wide as he stared at the lingering mist.

He and Ajin were the last remaining members of the Pirate crew. The ferocity they had witnessed seemed beyond human.

"He's not even a human. He's a monster—just like that guy!" Ajin's voice trembled, his gaze locked on Leo.

Fear mingled with awe, deepening in his eyes.

On the ship's deck, Nami slumped against the railing, sweat beading on her forehead. When Leo had almost been struck by Mihawk's knife, her heart had nearly leapt out of her chest.

If Leo hadn't vanished and counterattacked just in time, she might have lost him.

Even Zoro and Luffy were shaken, but Leo had shown a hint of madness tempered by raw power. The outcome was impressive—enough to earn Nami's quiet approval.

She made her decision. This time, she wouldn't interfere.

On the other side, Mihawk smiled faintly at Leo.

"Farewell, Magician Leo. I'll be waiting for you in the New World."

With those words, the coffin boat drifted slowly into the distance, the sunlight glinting off its dark hull.

This chance encounter—born from boredom and curiosity—had yielded much.

A young, spirited captain, a swordsman striving for greatness, and a magician who already wielded peak power: such figures were rare, even in the vast world they all inhabited.

"Hey! Leo!!"

At Zeff's call, the Baratie ship edged closer to Leo's position.

Unable to contain himself, Luffy shouted eagerly.

"Leo, you're amazing! Even that long-eyebrowed swordsman couldn't beat you!"

Leo looked at Luffy with a puzzled smile, slowly realizing he meant Mihawk.

He shot Luffy a teasing glare.

"Only you could come up with a name like that."

Luffy laughed, proud as ever.

Leo rubbed his belly. "Alright, Luffy. I'm starving now—I need to eat something first."

Without hesitation, he stepped aboard the Baratie, ready to regain his strength.

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