"Master Zoro, please, don't do this! The Zoro clan still needs you! You can't just… lose yourself like this! Can you even understand what I'm saying?!"
The middle-aged man was nearly frantic. If something really happened to Zoro, there would be far too many consequences to clean up. He couldn't let the young master lose his mind now.
"Get your hands off me, you bastard! If my body weren't in such a state, I'd have cut you down already!"
Zoro's face twisted with rage. He truly couldn't make sense of any of this. Why was this grown man looking at him with such a pitiful, tear-streaked expression? Did he think Zoro was weak? Unreliable? Absurd! What kind of man falls apart over something so trivial?
"Master Zoro! What are you saying? I can't understand you at all! Let's just go home. I'm sure the clan leader will know what to do."
Finally snapping back to his senses, the middle-aged man reminded himself of his mission—he had to bring Zoro back home. How could he forget something so vital? Without another word, he crouched down and slung Zoro over his back.
But the moment he stood, he sensed something was off. That was when he noticed the broken haft of the axe nearby. It hadn't simply been chopped through—it had shattered under the force of a powerful internal energy. And then he spotted it: a faint groove etched into the ground—a mark left behind by sword qi.
Not one, but two opposing streams of sword qi. That meant… it came from Zoro.
"This... how is this possible? He doesn't even have qi cultivation. How could he possibly unleash sword qi? That's unheard of… Could it really have been him?"
Suspicion gnawed at him. Could it be that Zoro had awakened something? But he didn't sense any qi from the young master. How could someone with no qi at all use a sword technique like that? And this was Zoro—Zoro, who had always lacked ambition. How could someone like that suddenly become so powerful?
"I'd better report this to the clan leader. Maybe he'll have some answers. Right now, I don't know what to believe. This young master disappeared for a month… What exactly did he learn during that time?"
He didn't dwell on it any further. For now, the right thing to do was return and ask the old master. The clan leader was a fourth-tier swordmaster—he'd surely be able to make sense of things. Maybe Zoro had simply been frightened into unleashing latent strength. After all, it's said that in the face of danger, living creatures can burst forth with astonishing power—power capable of defying all odds.
Carrying Zoro on his back, the man made his way back to the Zoro clan estate. Someone was already waiting for them outside.
At the head of the group stood another middle-aged man, unremarkable in appearance. But the aura he radiated was even more formidable than the one carrying Zoro. Not that Zoro paid him any mind. He knew full well that in his prime, this man wouldn't even come close to being his match. Right now, his body was still weak—but he'd survived. The next step was to train this body. He couldn't allow it to remain this fragile forever.
He still had a path to walk. He still needed to reach the Grand Line. He still had comrades to reunite with. Dying here would be unacceptable. His ambitions reached far beyond this.
"Zhuo Yuan," said the man in front, "No trouble on the way back, I hope?"
Zoro finally looked up at him. Just as he remembered—ordinary looks, but there was something subtly different about him. What caught Zoro's eye was the sword strapped at the man's waist. It looked to be of decent quality, though Zoro had no interest in swords. He wielded blades—single-edged, meant for cleaving—not those double-edged, pointy things.
"No issues," Zhuo Yuan replied. "But something strange happened. I think it's worth reporting. The situation is... bizarre."
He really meant it. What happened defied all logic. But this wasn't the time or place to explain—walls had ears. And what he'd discovered could overturn the entire way people understood qi. And the one responsible was their own young master.
Zoro had potential—immense potential. This kind of strength needed to be cultivated.
"Zoro wasn't hurt, was he?"
The other man already sensed something wasn't quite right. Zoro had always been a nobody in the clan, so how could something like this come from him? But Zhuo Yuan wasn't the kind to lie. Maybe this so-called good-for-nothing wasn't so ordinary after all.
"He dislocated his shoulder, nothing too serious. But that's not the real issue. Let's talk inside. It's not safe out here."
The continent was far from peaceful. Wars broke out frequently, and loose lips could bring disaster. They couldn't afford any slipups. Zhuo Yuan still had a task to complete—he needed to eliminate a certain swordmaster before word got out. If that man spilled what he knew, the consequences would be catastrophic.
So, after handing Zoro over to the clan leader, Zhuo Yuan departed on his mission.
Not long ago, a sword soul bearer had already been abducted by outsiders. If another one were taken now, the Zoro clan might never recover. Too many clans were already crumbling. He refused to let theirs be next. Even if he bore a different surname, the clan had treated him as one of their own—and he would repay that kindness.
"Be careful. Leave no loose ends," the clan leader warned. "We're not as free as we once were—not in our own land."
His words were laced with bitterness. This was their shame, and yet they were powerless to do anything about it.
As Zhuo Yuan left, the clan leader turned to his son, unsure of what to make of him. At first glance, Zoro seemed no different than before. But why had Zhuo Yuan spoken with such weight?
Then, in the very next instant, he felt it—that something was different.
There was a wildness in Zoro's eyes that hadn't been there before.
They weren't the dull, vacant eyes of the boy he'd known. They were sharp. Ferocious.
Eyes like a beast's.