That strike—there was no denying it—left everyone stunned.
A true genius for the ancient ways of cultivation. In this modern world, there were scarcely any who could wield such power. This meant his potential was limitless. But just how far he could go... not even they could predict.
"He actually pulled it off. If he had a weapon that suited him, his strength would be on a whole different level. And with such a fragile body too… to unleash an attack that powerful? That's already comparable to a first-tier swordmaster!"
The head of the Zoro Clan saw it at a glance. This Zoro—they could hardly believe he was the same person anymore. The skills he displayed defied all logic. In just one month, with no formal instruction, he had already managed to produce a sword aura equal to that of a first-tier swordmaster.
And this was without the aid of qi.
If he had qi enhancing his power, he'd be upper-mid first-tier at the very least. And qi, as they all knew, had limits—it could be exhausted. But not Zoro. His power came from within. As long as his physical strength continued to grow, his potential would become terrifyingly vast.
"It seems what that man said was true. The young master really is going to rise. And if we keep him hidden from the world, the Zoro Clan will rise with him."
Zoroan was visibly pleased. He could feel it—this was a warrior growing stronger by the day. And not just any warrior—his warrior. That alone was a monumental blessing.
If they could truly cultivate a prodigy fit for the ancient ways, Zoro's future would be boundless. That was the terror—and the glory—of ancient cultivation. If he could truly master it, his strength would be unmatched.
But now, a serious problem loomed before them.
Zoro couldn't speak their language.
That was what baffled them the most. How could a perfectly normal person suddenly become mute? On top of that, the aura around him felt dangerous—like a wild beast, ready to erupt at any moment.
"No dislocations this time. Looks like I've gained a bit more control. And this body—it's not as frail as I thought. To adapt so quickly to my power… this really is one strong body. Just wait for me, Luffy. All of you. I will grow stronger."
Zoro examined himself carefully. The body's capacity to adapt was impressive. To sync with his power in such a short time—that was no small feat.
But his grip on that power wasn't perfect. Just now, the weapon had shattered under the force of his strike. If his weapon failed in a real fight—especially at a critical moment—it could cost him his life.
It reminded him of when he first set out to sea. His blades had snapped back then too. What Hawk-Eye had told him turned out to be right: A sword is the swordsman's partner, his second right hand. If it breaks... then your training simply isn't enough.
Zoro looked around at the people surrounding him. He couldn't tell why they wanted him to fight like this. Was it just about his power? Were they trying to recruit him? Or did they have something else in mind?
Too bad he couldn't understand a single word they were saying.
"You've done well. As expected of my son," said the Zoro Clan head. "I'll make you even stronger. But first, you need to learn to speak. Otherwise, communication will become an impossible burden."
The clan leader sighed. It was exasperating—his son had somehow become... like this. What on earth had happened to the boy during that time? What could twist a normal person into someone so utterly different?
"Clan Head," said a steward, "the young master still has no way to communicate with us. I suggest hiring a tutor. Without language, we won't be able to guide him through cultivation. The future of the Zoro Clan may now rest with him. If one day he reaches the tenth tier, unimaginable doors will open for us. We must nurture him."
"Yes," the clan head agreed. "It's troubling. But once he learns to speak, we may finally discover what's happened to him over this past month. And what is that wild, terrifying presence he carries? That feeling... it's not something an ordinary person could ever possess."
"Damn it… what are they saying?" Zoro muttered inwardly. "Looks like I'll have to get them to teach me the local language, or this is just going to keep getting worse. You can't even ask for directions without someone trying to cut you down—this place is nuts."
He recalled what had happened just yesterday. He'd merely asked someone for directions, and nearly got chopped for it. First time that had ever happened to him. Who was that lunatic anyway?
Still, he sensed no malice from these two. Though their gazes were odd, there was also a strange warmth in them—a kind of release, or maybe even acceptance. It was the first time in years he had felt something like that. He wasn't even sure what it was.
"In any case, this is good news," the clan head declared. "Prepare a proper meal for him. We'll hold a small welcoming feast tonight. And make sure you find him a tutor. If he remains mute, more trouble will surely follow. Teaching him our language is also a way of protecting him."
The clan head had made up his mind. He finally understood what kind of person his son had become. Once overlooked, Zoro now showed signs of real potential. It was time to train him—not just as a warrior, but as the pillar of the Zoro Clan.
When mealtime came, Zoro realized something startling—he hadn't eaten a proper meal in what felt like ages.
Faced with the strange local cuisine, he didn't resist. Back when he was imprisoned on the island of Navy Captain Axe-Hand Monka, he'd gone three days without food. Sure, that too had been a kind of training, but nothing beat a good meal.
So he devoured everything like a starved beast.
In fact, he nearly polished off the entire table's worth of food by himself, leaving the Zoro Clan leader and the others completely dumbfounded.
Just how hungry was their long-lost young master?
It was the very image of hunger that knows no shame.