ONE PIECE: THE GREAT VOYAGE

"Very well, Mihawk. You will not regret your decision."

Caesar, upon receiving Mihawk's firm response, curved his lips into a satisfied smile.

As he spoke, he couldn't resist extending his hand, resting it lightly on the shoulder of the young Dracule Mihawk, who, at only thirteen or fourteen, already carried an air of severity far beyond his years. His old-fashioned, no-nonsense expression contrasted with his youthful features.

This seemingly intimate gesture made Mihawk stiffen slightly. With a subtle shake of his head, he pulled away, clearly unused to such familiarity.

Seeing this, Caesar chuckled and withdrew his hand.

The sensation of taking in a future legend as a disciple—one of the most iconic swordsmen from his previous life—was an experience few could comprehend.

He was eager to witness Mihawk's growth.

Because of his own intervention, the original trajectory had already been altered.

It was impossible to predict the precise course Mihawk's future would take now. How far he would go, what challenges he would face—all were mysteries.

But one thing was certain: Caesar would ensure Mihawk became a formidable force.

After all, in the years to come, Mihawk would be a cornerstone of the Caesar Pirates' might, second only to himself.

The more warriors of such caliber he could gather under his banner, the better.

"By the way, you are not my only disciple."

"You have a senior brother."

Mihawk's sharp golden eyes lifted toward Caesar, his interest piqued.

"You must have heard of him."

"He is Douglas Bullet, known as the 'Demon Heir' by the Navy."

Mihawk's expression shifted—he was visibly taken aback.

He had seen Bullet in action, albeit from a distance. The man's raw physical prowess and overwhelming Armament Haki had left an impression even on him.

The Navy's epithet for him was fitting.

In battle, Bullet's presence was truly demonic.

"He inherited my martial path," Caesar continued. "But you… You will inherit my swordsmanship."

Mihawk's pupils shrank slightly. Caesar could see the unspoken thoughts swirling behind them.

So, he pressed on.

"I believe you will become the world's strongest swordsman."

Caesar's voice carried no hesitation.

Mihawk, startled, gazed at his new master in silence.

Even though this goal had long been etched into his heart, he had never dared to outright declare it as an inevitability.

Yet here was Caesar, stating it as an indisputable fact.

The sheer confidence in his words stirred something in Mihawk.

A fire, a silent but fierce determination.

He didn't voice his thoughts, but his response was firm—a deep, resolute nod.

Caesar merely smiled.

"Come, let's go. You'll meet your seniors and fellow crew members soon."

"As for this competition—there's little point in continuing. Whether you choose to participate or not is entirely up to you."

Mihawk had originally come to test his mettle against strong opponents.

But now, as Caesar's apprentice, he had access to far greater opportunities.

With Caesar himself as his mentor, along with the powerful members of the Caesar Pirates, Mihawk had no shortage of training partners.

"Speaking of which, among the swordsmen of my crew, we have Gnali, Issho, and Hyogoro of the Flower."

"Even Brook, despite his eccentric personality, has remarkable swordsmanship."

Caesar casually introduced them, making sure Mihawk understood just how formidable his new comrades were.

Compared to this mere tournament—where all manner of weaklings and minor warriors gathered—training alongside these masters would be far more beneficial.

"And then there's your mistress, Effiette."

"Even among all these warriors, Brook—though considered the weakest swordsman—still stands just below the level of a true Great Swordsman if we exclude Devil Fruit abilities."

"As for the rest? Every single one of them has reached that level."

Mihawk's expression shifted slightly as he processed these names.

Each one carried weight.

He had read numerous reports on their battles—especially those involving the Navy's elite.

He had analyzed their movements, studied their combat styles over and over again.

And now, they were to be his comrades? His teachers?

A deep, burning excitement ignited within him.

"Gnali, Issho… and my mistress, Effiette…"

"As my disciple, you may seek their guidance at any time," Caesar declared.

At these words, Mihawk—who had maintained his usual stern and mature demeanor—couldn't help but widen his eyes.

The intensity of his excitement nearly overwhelmed him.

To be surrounded by such unparalleled swordsmen…

To a man who lived for the blade, this was nothing short of a dream.

A martial artist stepping into a world filled with nothing but the strongest of warriors.

There would be no shortage of exhilarating battles ahead.

Mihawk inhaled deeply, suppressing his excitement.

Then, with an unshakable resolve, he bowed his head slightly and spoke:

"Yes, Master."

At this moment, his acknowledgment of Caesar had deepened.

His respect, his recognition—everything solidified.

The two departed from the rented lodging, returning to the Middle Kingdom within a few short hours.

Bringing Mihawk back to the palace, Caesar was greeted by his crew.

Carlos and the others observed the newcomer with curiosity.

But among them, Effiette's gaze stood out the most.

Upon seeing Mihawk in person, her eyes gleamed.

She hadn't paid much attention to him in the past, but now, up close, she could see it—his innate talent for the sword.

His presence as a swordsman was pure. Strong.

As if this child had been born for the blade.

His sharp, sword-like gaze and natural temperament spoke volumes.

"Caesar, this boy…" Effiette murmured after a brief observation.

A thought emerged in her mind—she wanted to take Mihawk as her own apprentice.

She was a Great Swordsman herself.

And any true practitioner of the blade would feel an instinctual desire to nurture talent like this.

Caesar, seeing through her intent immediately, chuckled.

"I've already taken him as my disciple."

A horse that could run a thousand miles often existed—but a worthy trainer did not always appear.

But when one found such a horse, it was natural to desire ownership.

Now, Effiette, too, wished to claim Mihawk as her student.

It was only natural.

"However," Caesar continued, smirking, "you are his mistress. Naturally, you may teach him as well."

"Besides, I don't have the luxury of time to train him constantly. Much of his growth will depend on you."

He had already decided that while he would personally guide Mihawk, the young swordsman would need exposure to different styles and teachings.

Effiette, with her pure and refined swordsmanship, would be a crucial influence.

Gnali, Issho, and the others would also provide invaluable guidance.

And when Mihawk reached a bottleneck, that was when Caesar would step in.

Because the Way of the Sword… could not be taught through mere words alone.

It had to be experienced.

Caesar himself had challenged nearly every dojo in Wano to forge his own path.

He had absorbed countless styles, molding them into something uniquely his.

Now, he wanted Mihawk to undergo the same journey.

"Then it is settled," Effiette said, satisfied.

The future held infinite possibilities.

And standing in the heart of it all was a young boy destined to carve his name into history.

The Hawk Eyes of the next era.

A swordsman who would one day reign supreme.

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