Marineford, Headquarters of the Marines — Eastern Shore Training Grounds.

In the vast, open arena by the coast, a legendary figure stood tall—Zephyr, the former Admiral known as the "Black Arm," was conducting a private training session.

His student?

None other than the only cadet he personally took under his wing: Tachibana Kyūjō.

Their lesson began with one of the core techniques of Rokushiki—the Six Powers martial arts of the Marines.

The first: Soru.

Zephyr planted his feet lightly on the ground, his stance relaxed. He began walking—small, almost lazy steps. But in the blink of an eye, his feet struck the earth dozens of times in rapid succession, too fast for the eye to follow.

A surge of air exploded outward.

In less than half a second, he vanished—no, moved—so quickly that all that remained was a faint afterimage and the sound of the air being torn apart.

"Did you catch that?" Zephyr asked as he slowed down, demonstrating the movement again a few more times.

Kyūjō had already activated his full sensory perception. He could trace not just Zephyr's steps, but even the flow of blood surging through his body.

He gave a small nod, and within his mind, began replaying the movement over and over—simulating it from every angle with the help of his internal combat engine.

"I've got it now, Zephyr-sensei," he said calmly.

Zephyr gave a short nod. Not surprised in the slightest.

Kyūjō's body had already surpassed the minimum requirements for using Soru. All he needed was a reference point—and now that he had one, it was only natural for him to master it instantly.

After all, even some pirates had figured out the technique just by watching.

Now, as Kyūjō moved across the field—his figure flickered and blinked in and out of sight.

Streaks of movement left glowing trails in the air. Sudden bursts of speed twisted the flow of wind around him.

It was Soru—

But the way he used it made it feel like something completely different.

Zephyr could still track his movements thanks to his mastery of Kenbunshoku Haki.

But even then, he couldn't help but feel impressed.

This kind of talent… really does fall from the heavens.

Most cadets trained for years before even grasping the basics.

And here Kyūjō was—flashing across the arena after only minutes.

But then, Kyūjō suddenly came to a stop, his brow slightly furrowed.

To be honest… Soru wasn't as fast as his Third Form of Thunder Breathing—Lightning Swarm—from the demon world he'd trained in before.

Then... what if he combined them?

Unfortunately, the footwork of Thunder Breathing was incredibly precise and couldn't be altered casually. Its structure clashed with the rhythm of Soru.

Still—

Kyūjō wasn't in a rush. He had time. Plenty of it.

Seeing his student pause, Zephyr spoke up.

"That's enough for Soru. If you want to refine it further, work on it later."

"Next, we move on to the second technique: Geppo."

"It's essentially an evolution of Soru. I'm sure you'll pick it up just as fast."

Without another word, Zephyr leapt into the air—

And didn't fall.

Rather, his feet struck the air itself—

Like pistons, they pounded the atmosphere in rhythmic bursts, creating reactive force to hold him aloft.

Step by step, he moved upward, then sideways, dancing midair like gravity had ceased to apply.

— — —

Geppo, or Moonwalk, was a technique that allowed a human to "stand" on air—using nothing but the reactive force of their own leg strength.

But it came at a cost.

Maintaining your position in the sky drained stamina rapidly. Only those with absurd physical conditioning could use it effectively for extended periods.

Kyūjō watched closely.

And then—an idea sparked in his mind.

If Geppo worked by applying force to the air…

Then what if he combined it with air compression techniques?

In the demon world, he'd once studied how Muzan and his Upper Moons manipulated their environment.

Akaza, in particular, used Air Type Attacks by compressing oxygen into explosive shockwaves.

The theory behind it…

Was eerily similar to this world's Rankyaku—the slicing air blades created from kicks.

If Kyūjō could merge Rankyaku and Geppo…

He might develop an entirely new form of aerial combat.

To an ordinary fighter, that kind of theory would've sounded impossible.

But to Kyūjō—who possessed unlimited internal simulation—

Any theory could be tested, refined, and perfected.

No matter how ridiculous.

— — —

Two weeks later.

In the middle of the training grounds, Kyūjō stood calmly with a blindfold over his eyes.

"All right," he said. "Come at me all at once. I won't counter. I'll only use Soru and Geppo. If you can land a hit on me—consider it your win."

But—

Nobody moved.

Not even Smoker, who was usually the first to step forward.

"…What's the point?" one of the cadets muttered. "He's already awakened Kenbunshoku Haki. Even if he's blindfolded, we won't touch him."

Kyūjō let out a dry chuckle and pulled the blindfold down.

"So quick to give up… I haven't even warmed up yet."

Not long after, Zephyr entered the training hall.

Seeing him arrive, Kyūjō quietly returned to his seat.

Today's lesson was on Tekkai—the Iron Body technique.

But for Kyūjō… it didn't seem all that useful.

He'd already mastered Ryūō, the advanced form of Busoshoku Haki passed down from Wano's warriors.

Compared to that—

What was the point of just hardening his skin?

Too basic.

He leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, and let his mind wander.

Within the landscape of his consciousness, he launched a full-scale virtual battle simulation—pitting himself against Zephyr in a 1v1 fighter format.

— — —

A light touch brought him back.

"Kyūjō, are you okay?"

He opened his eyes and glanced to the side.

Hina, the pink-haired girl, was looking at him with concern.

"Just a heads-up… Zephyr-sensei's been looking at you a few times now," she whispered.

"…Thanks, Hina," Kyūjō replied without much thought, before shutting his eyes again.

Hina stared, baffled.

Zephyr hadn't called him out or stopped the class. But still…

Was Kyūjō really allowed to slack off this much just because he was a genius?

...If you're too smart, you get to do whatever you want?

Tina, sitting behind them, muttered under her breath.

— — —

"All right. That's enough for today," Zephyr finally said, signaling the end of the lesson.

The cadets began clearing out.

But for Kyūjō, this was when training truly began.

As Zephyr made his way toward the center of the field, Kyūjō quietly followed behind.

They wouldn't be sparring. Not here.

This place was too fragile—too cramped—for a real duel.

Instead, they focused on something far more important:

Refinement.

Mastering every inch of movement.

Perfecting every technique.

Polishing the raw diamond that would one day become the sword that cuts through the heavens.

— — —

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