One Piece: Ulquiorra Template

Chapter 61: Ian vs. Mihawk

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A small boat drifted across the vast ocean, having crossed the Red Line and now approaching the peak of Reverse Mountain.

A lone figure sat within, a black, chaotic-bladed katana strapped to his back. It was the legendary black blade, Yoru, one of the twelve Supreme Grade swords.

His identity was unmistakable: Dracule Mihawk, the world's strongest swordsman.

With dark hair, a white-plumed top hat, a burgundy floral shirt, a black trench coat, black boots, white trousers, and a crucifix pendant around his neck much like Moria's—the very same pendant he'd used to toy with Zoro—his presence commanded attention.

His hawk-like gaze was sharp and piercing, the source of both his epithet and his uncanny ability to perceive the essence of things, a gift that had honed his unparalleled swordsmanship.

"Black-Winged Demon! You're the one who captured Moria-sama and left me homeless... Now I'm stuck with this cold, unfeeling man!" Perona shrieked upon spotting Ian, her voice filled with indignation. In the original story, while Moria disregarded the camaraderie of others, he was fiercely protective of his own crew.

It was likely a consequence of the trauma he suffered twenty years ago when Kaido slaughtered his entire crew, leaving him emotionally scarred. This explained his actions during the Paramount War, where Absalom risked his life against two Warlords, Kuma and Doflamingo, to rescue him, and Moria later venturing into Blackbeard's territory to search for Absalom.

Ian hadn't anticipated that even with Moria's premature demise, Perona would still become Mihawk's daughter-like figure. Their shared gothic aesthetic certainly made for an interesting pairing. Ian, however, couldn't be bothered to argue with her.

His green eyes swept over her, not as sharp as Mihawk's, but somehow more unnerving.

Thump, thump, thump...

Perona heard her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, and then, without a shred of her usual composure, she clung to Mihawk, her voice trembling. "So mean! How can you look at me like that?!"

As Mihawk drew closer, his hawk-like gaze sent shivers down the spines of those watching from the mountain.

The very air seemed to crackle with unseen blades, the wind carrying a sharp, stinging sensation.

Even among the strongest individuals, few could withstand Mihawk's gaze. But...

Currently, there were a handful who could: Garp, the Marine hero, Crocus, the former Roger Pirates' doctor, Ian, the Black-Winged Demon who had defeated two Warlords, and Brook, the enigmatic pirate who had dared to call Roger a "rookie," despite feigning fear. His true strength remained to be seen.

Five powerful forces converged in this unlikely location. Mihawk's sword intent was sharp, honed to a razor's edge yet restrained, a dormant power that promised devastation upon release. The mere sight of him was enough to make one's body tremble.

"A worthy opponent... I thought you needed more time to mature, but it seems I underestimated you." A glint of battle lust flickered in Mihawk's eyes.

From this brief encounter, he could sense Ian's formidable power. He was only slightly weaker than Mihawk, a gap bridged by his exceptional physical prowess, something Mihawk lacked.

Throughout the encounter, Mihawk remained impassive, his small boat drifting closer, even with Perona clinging to him.

His composure remained unshaken, but the atmosphere grew heavy with anticipation. The two locked eyes, a silent battle of wills – hawk versus demon, green eyes blazing, one clad in black and white, the other in a vibrant array of colors.