The first match of the finals came to an end, and before the second began, there was a full hour of preparation time.
Even for monsters, the body had its limits. After prolonged combat, rest, food, and water were necessary, and even the simplest physical needs could not be ignored. At the same time, the arena itself required urgent repairs. Though it had been reduced to a ruin, the restoration process was straightforward. Workers quickly filled the shattered ground with sand and stone, leveling the surface in preparation for the next battle.
Soon, the second match began.
It was a clash between Dracule Mihawk, the rising young Great Swordsman whose name was spreading across the seas, and Shimotsuki Ushimaru, the daimyo of Wano Country, a legendary samurai who had long since reached his peak.
From the very first moment, the battle seized everyone's attention.
Mihawk made the first move.
Drawing his black blade, Yoru, he unleashed a massive green slash that tore across the arena. Ushimaru did not respond with words, only action. His twin blades flashed as he met the attack head-on, and in the next instant, the two were locked in a fierce exchange.
Steel rang endlessly.
Compared to the previous battle, where overwhelming abilities had dominated the field, this duel between pure swordsmen carried a different kind of beauty. It was precise, controlled, and filled with hidden danger at every turn.
Here, brute force alone was not enough.
The gap between them was not overwhelming, which meant the fight became a contest of technique, timing, awareness, and experience.
Mihawk stood composed, dressed like a nobleman, his posture elegant even in combat.
Across from him, Ushimaru exuded raw, heroic intensity. He discarded his upper garment, tying it at his waist, revealing a powerful physique marked by two crossed scars on his back. With a bamboo skewer clenched between his teeth, his eyes shone with excitement as he faced Mihawk.
Genius swordsmen like Mihawk were rare, even in Wano.
Because of that, Ushimaru had no intention of holding back.
His dual blades moved like lightning, his speed and power combining into a relentless assault. In a matter of moments, Mihawk was forced onto the defensive, his black blade flashing as he parried strike after strike.
From the stands, Shanks raised a bottle of sake and shouted loudly.
"Mihawk! Don't go down so easily!"
His voice carried both encouragement and frustration. Though he had failed to reach this stage himself, he had formed a bond with Mihawk during the tournament and naturally supported him.
Even so, Shanks understood the situation clearly.
The gap was real.
Beyond swordsmanship, Ushimaru held advantages in physique and Haki. These differences, though subtle, were enough to tilt the balance in such a high-level duel.
On the other side, the samurai of Wano roared in support of their daimyo.
"Ushimaru-sama!"
Despite the pressure, Mihawk remained calm.
His sharp gaze never wavered, even as he was pushed back step by step. Instead of panicking, he searched for openings, testing, adapting, learning.
Then something unexpected happened.
As the battle continued, Mihawk began to grow stronger.
His movements sharpened, his aura intensified, and his counters became more precise. The longer the fight lasted, the more he adapted to Ushimaru's rhythm.
This was Mihawk's true talent. Combat itself was his forge. Even so, the outcome did not change.
After more than half a day of relentless fighting, Mihawk chose to concede. Continuing would only compromise his condition for future matches, and for him, the result of the tournament mattered far less than the experience gained.
The audience, however, had witnessed a masterpiece.
The next battle followed quickly.
It was Yoriichi Tsugikuni against Ama Tsuki Takeji, another legendary samurai of Wano.
The moment they faced each other, the atmosphere changed.
Yoriichi stood calmly, his presence steady and profound. Though his style bore traces of Wano swordsmanship, it had evolved into something uniquely his own. Combined with his attire, many speculated that his lineage traced back to Wano itself.
Both men were at their peak.
Without a word, they began.
Their blades moved with terrifying precision, each strike carrying immense destructive power. Yoriichi's sword intent alone placed immense pressure on the mind, forcing his opponent to resist not only physically, but mentally as well.
Among the spectators, Shiki watched in silence.
Memories resurfaced.
He had once crossed blades with Yoriichi in the past, back when he himself was rising to dominance. Even now, recalling that battle brought a faint ache to his abdomen.
The duel continued with no clear opening, each exchange pushing both men to their limits.
In the end, Ama Tsuki Takeji conceded.
Even he could not overcome Yoriichi's overwhelming mastery.
Next came another highly anticipated match.
"Shadow Dragon" Redyat faced the dual-wielding swordsman Kirigaya Suguha, known as the "Black Swordsman."
Kirigaya's appearance was striking, clad entirely in black, his twin blades gleaming at his sides. His weapons, the "Elucidator" and "Dark Repulser," had accompanied him for over a decade. Rather than seeking new swords, his goal was to refine them further using the rare materials offered by the tournament.
From the start, his style was unlike anything Redyat had encountered.
Fast.
Unpredictable.
Relentless.
His blades moved in seamless combinations, each strike flowing into the next with perfect timing. Horizontal cuts, vertical slashes, thrusts, and chained techniques came in rapid succession, leaving no room to breathe.
"Snake Bite."
"Sharp Claw."
"Four-Way Slash."
Each technique carried hidden killing intent.
Redyat found himself pushed back, forced into defense as the storm of attacks closed in. Even his Observation Haki struggled to keep up. Kirigaya did not rely on thought or prediction.
He moved on instinct.
Pure, refined combat instinct.
For a moment, even Redyat's famed abilities seemed ineffective.
Yet he adapted.
Gradually increasing his speed, adjusting his rhythm, searching for a way to break free.
Still, time was not on his side.
Kirigaya's offense only intensified.
After half a day of continuous battle, Redyat chose to concede.
The result shocked many.
However, those who understood the situation knew the truth. Bound by the rules of the tournament, Redyat had been unable to fully utilize his abilities. What he displayed was only a fraction of his true strength.
Even so, Kirigaya Suguha had proven himself beyond doubt.
A genius.
A swordsman who had already carved out his own path.
Even Mihawk, watching from the sidelines, admitted silently that such a style was something he could never replicate.
The battles continued.
"Heavenly King" Rhinos faced Kenshin Himura, the fourteenth successor of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū.
Rhinos's strength lay in the fusion of swordsmanship and the power of the Air-Air Fruit. Though restricted by the tournament's rules, his attacks still carried immense force.
"Wind Scroll Cloud!"
A single slash unleashed a storm.
Air currents surged across the arena, compressing space and striking from all directions. The destructive force threatened to tear everything apart.
Kenshin Himura remained calm.
With a flash of motion, he responded.
"Dragon Nest Flash."
A strike too fast for the eye to follow split the storm in two.
Then he advanced.
"Twin Dragon Flash."
"Dragon Flight Flash."
"Dragon Hammer Flash."
Each move was precise, lethal, and executed at close range. The true strength of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū revealed itself fully in his hands.
Rhinos, unable to fully utilize his Devil Fruit, gradually lost ground.
In the end, he was defeated.
And as the dust settled, one final detail was announced.
Borsalino had received a bye.
The structure of the finals ensured that each of the eleven participants would skip one match. Across fifty-five total battles, the tournament would proceed in cycles, with one swordsman resting each round.
Even so, the strain was immense.
Each set of battles lasted days, and without proper rest, even the strongest would falter. For that reason, a full day of recovery had been scheduled midway through the finals.
A necessary pause.
Because what lay ahead would only grow more intense.