When a person grew excited, their moves would start losing all order and structure.
That was exactly the state Shirakawa was in right now.
He had already begun treating Orr like prey, even though this prey was far stronger than the hunter himself.
With a powerful swing, Shirakawa slashed out a fierce blue blade aura toward Orr.
Facing the incoming aura head-on, Orr merely smiled faintly and swung out one of his own, a dark green slash.
The two blade auras collided, grinding against each other as they canceled one another out.
In the end, Orr's dark green aura gained the upper hand. Shirakawa's blue aura was completely neutralized, while the dark green slash continued straight toward him.
Although the slash was not especially fast, Shirakawa did not dodge.
Instead, he raised his sword upright before him and took a defensive stance.
The blade aura struck directly against Shirakawa's sword. Because of the force and momentum behind it, he was pushed backward several meters before he barely managed to neutralize it.
Even so, several small cuts appeared across his body.
Those had been caused by the scattered remnants of blade aura during the clash.
Although the surface of Shirakawa's skin quickly healed again, it consumed a tremendous amount of stamina.
Every time he was wounded by the sword of a powerful swordsman, the stamina required to recover was far greater than it would be for an ordinary blade wound.
Perhaps wounds inflicted by swordsmen carried sword intent, making them much harder to heal.
"Now this is the kind of battle swordsmen are meant to have."
Shirakawa said it excitedly.
Even though he felt utterly exhausted, his mind was more fired up than ever.
It was a sign that he was about to break through his limits.
His body and his consciousness had reached two completely opposite extremes.
"Not enough... still not enough."
Shirakawa muttered to himself.
Then he charged at Orr once again like a madman.
Wanting to become a Great Swordsman, relying on insight alone was not enough.
He had to fight.
Shirakawa had to seize this opportunity.
Because who knew when he would ever feel this close again.
Facing Shirakawa's frenzied assault, Orr switched from offense to defense.
In his eyes, Shirakawa had already thrown his life aside, and against this sort of suicidal fighting style, even Orr found it troublesome to deal with.
But the more chaotic the attacks became, the more openings they revealed.
Orr's mind remained calm the entire time.
He deftly avoided every slash Shirakawa sent his way, and whenever he could not dodge, he used the blade in his hand to block instead.
And whenever he caught an opening in Shirakawa's defense, Orr did not hold back in the slightest. He struck with crushing force.
After all, he had already realized that Shirakawa possessed the ability to recover from injuries, so there was no longer any need for mercy.
Over the course of this battle, Shirakawa had already been wounded more than once.
His arms had been sliced several times, his abdomen had been pierced twice, and even his thigh had been slashed open in a few places.
But Orr remained completely uninjured.
At most, Shirakawa had cut through his clothes here and there, but not a single real wound had been inflicted.
"Not enough... still not enough."
Shirakawa spoke again.
It sounded as though he were talking to himself, yet also to Orr, asking for even greater pressure.
Because he knew that even now, Orr had still not used his full strength. At most, he was only showing about seventy percent, and yet that alone had already pushed Shirakawa into a desperate corner.
"What a fine seedling for the sword."
Orr praised Shirakawa sincerely.
But he also knew Shirakawa already had a master.
In fact, he probably had two.
Because within Shirakawa's swordsmanship, Orr could see two entirely different styles.
One style focused on pure killing intent, its techniques direct and ruthless.
The other focused on skill, agile and endlessly changing.
And in Shirakawa, the two styles were being fused together in a way that seemed ready to give birth to a new sword style altogether, or perhaps one even more advanced than either of the original two.
It did not carry such overwhelming murderous intent, and at the same time, its moves were far harder for enemies to read.
From the look of it, Shirakawa had been tempering these two styles together for a very long time.
If Shirakawa did not already have a teacher, Orr truly would have wanted to accept him as his disciple.
But when he thought of his own two disciples, he felt he had no regrets in this life.
Both of them possessed swordsmanship talent of the highest order.
In the path of the sword, no one had ever been able to rival either of them.
That had been Orr's belief before he met Shirakawa.
But now it was different.
In his understanding, there was now one more person.
Shirakawa.
A figure whose talent in the sword could completely stand alongside his disciples, perhaps even surpass them by a little.
Even so, Orr had no intention of erasing Shirakawa here and now.
Perhaps he believed he could not truly keep Shirakawa behind.
Or perhaps he felt that if his disciples had an evenly matched rival, they would walk even farther on the road of swordsmanship.
No matter which of those thoughts it was, Orr knew that letting Shirakawa off today was not a loss.
Who knew, perhaps one day, if his disciples ever ran into trouble, Shirakawa might even lend them a hand.
For some reason, when he looked at Shirakawa, Orr felt as though he were seeing a kind of limitless possibility.
It was a feeling he had never once sensed from anyone else.
"Since you still want more, then I'll grant your wish."
A terrifying aura suddenly exploded from Orr's body.
This was not Conqueror's Haki.
And yet, on certain people, the pressure of such an aura could be even more fearsome than Conqueror's Haki itself.
"Master is getting serious."
The moment Jora felt that presence, he immediately retreated even farther back.
For a split second, it looked as though a dark green aura was rising from Orr's body, and even his eyes seemed to have turned green.
Though whether that was only an illusion, Jora could not tell.
"This is the first time I've ever seen Master in this state. I just hope Shirakawa gets lucky."
Jora silently offered a prayer for Shirakawa.
Shirakawa would not fear the pressure of Conqueror's Haki.
But this was something different.
Or rather, this was a pressure meant specifically for swordsmen.
In Shirakawa's eyes, Orr had transformed into a razor-sharp blade.
The aura radiating from him stabbed at Shirakawa's skin, and facing Orr now felt almost like standing before someone unleashing Conqueror's Haki.
But the more it was like this, the more excited Shirakawa became.
It also made him realize that this world was far less simple than he had imagined.
He had only landed on some random island, and yet an old man hidden away in retirement possessed such terrifying strength.
That alone was shocking enough.
Perhaps this old man had once been some legendary figure who had shaken the seas.
Maybe the Marines still had a wanted poster for him even now.
"Old man, this is my final strike. If you can take it, then I'll admit defeat."
Shirakawa said it to Orr plainly.
Admit defeat?
He had no choice but to.
He had already decided to pour every last bit of his strength into one final all-out strike.
Once that attack was unleashed, he would probably lose consciousness immediately after.
"Good."
Orr answered just as simply.
Shirakawa closed his eyes and stood there, slowly raising the sword in his hand above his head.
The aura around him climbed to the absolute peak he could currently reach.
Then he suddenly opened his eyes and brought the blade down with all his might.
It looked like an extremely ordinary attack.
Yet what burst forth from it was a horrifyingly powerful blade aura.
A massive blue slash, trailing light in its wake, tore through the air toward Orr.
"Now this is more like it."
Orr responded with a slash of his own.
The two blade auras met and locked together in a dead clash, neither one yielding to the other.
In the end, they both dissipated into the air at the same time.
Watching the fading traces of aura, Shirakawa collapsed face-first to the ground.
"Master?"
Seeing that the battle had finally calmed, Jora stepped forward.
"Carry him back."
Both of them knew Orr was referring to Shirakawa, who was sprawled on the ground.
"What about you?"
"You don't need to worry about me. I'll head back on my own in a while."
"All right."
Jora did not ask any more questions.
He hoisted Shirakawa onto his back and left.
As he watched Shirakawa's figure disappear into the distance, Orr's hand, hidden behind his back, trembled slightly.
Blood trickled from his fingers and dripped onto the ground.
He had still been injured.
Or rather, in the end, he had still shown mercy.
Otherwise, the two blade auras would never have canceled each other out so cleanly.
"How many years has it been..."
Orr let out a quiet sigh.
No one knew what exactly he was lamenting.
/-\
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