Grand Voyage- Log 67

Log 67: Pura's Story
''“And.... go!” Freya Rihawk cried, lunging forward at her student and daughter, Pura, who countered by charging as well.''

''Their two wooden swords clashed, causing a small explosion of wood shavings from both swords, with Pura’s sword flying out of her hands. The young swordswoman sighed, leaning back against the wall of the small Dojo that she and her mother used as a home.''

“You okay?” Freya asked, allowing her own sword to lower, “I didn’t hit you THAT hard, right?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Pura laughed slightly, pushing off from the wall, “it’s just....”

''“The move?” Freya asked, tilting her head. Her daughter nodded, letting out another sigh. Freya smiled slightly, then walked over to a small display case that she kept in the wall of the dojo. She opened it, then took out the obsidian-black sword that lay inside it.''

''She turned back towards her daughter. “Do you know what this?”''

''Pura nodded. “It’s your master’s hidden sword, right?”''

''Freya nodded in return. “Yep. I wanted to use this to fulfill my own goal, but... it looks like it’s going to be yours now.”''

''Pura tilted her head. “Why?”''

''Freya sat down on the edge of their small balcony, Pura quickly joining her. The mother sighed, holding Yamiryuu. “You’ve never met Marshall, have you?”''

Pura shook her head.

''“He was always slightly more enthusiastic about his swordplay. He believed that he had to protect me, that without it I would get hurt or even die. And yet at the same time I always managed to beat him whenever we sparred.... except one time. But even then, he felt that it wasn’t deserved.”''

“What does this have to do with us moving?”

''Freya sighed again, then continued. “I’m worried that it’ll go back to those days. And if it does, that will be the end of my dream. I’ll just keep sparring with him forever, always defeating him, with him maybe working in the occasional defeat, never stopping...” She ducked her head slightly, “I guess, Pura, that I’m afraid that, no matter how many dark thoughts that he’s thought of me over all these years, that I’m thinking even darker ones about him.”''

“DON’T SAY THAT!”

''Freya looked up to see Pura, now on her feet, glaring down at her mother. The daughter stuck her finger out, pointing at her. “If you don’t want to go back to that, then don’t come!” she demanded, “and you can’t give up on your dream! I won’t allow you to!”''

''Freya smiled, standing up and pulling her daughter into a hug. “Thank you, Pura,” she whispered, “I won’t give up on my dream. But... I still have to go.”''

“Why?” Pura asked.

''Her mother walked away from her, back into the Dojo. “Because, no matter what, he’s my younger brother. And for all the hard years he spent training, whatever hardships he met during our times apart, all that he went through because he couldn’t beat me... I owe it to him to at least spar with him, if that’s what he wants.”''

“Mom...” Pura began.

''“And besides,” Freya continued, turning around and smiling, “I believe in him. We can trust him.”''

Using Marshall’s sword as a grip of sorts, Knave lifted both his feet up, then, surrounding them with heat and kinetic energy, delivered a kick with both feet into the swordsman’s chest! Marshall let out a large hiccup of blood, then stumbled back, keeping his grip on the sword.

Taking advantage of this momentary lapse of concentration, Knave gripped the blade even tighter, then yanked it towards him, sending Marshall toppling forward! Knave then surrounded his forehead with the heat energy, smashing his head into him! The impact was so great it caused the swordsman to crash into the ground, leaving a small crater.

Knave immediately crouched, surrounding his free hand with the white, flame-like substance, preparing to deliver another blow to Marshall’s head. However, the swordsman managed to regain some semblance of coherence while Knave prepared for this, and promptly acted.

“DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH, IDIOT!” he cried, his sword striking quickly and hard. Knave grunted as a trail of blood sprayed out of his shoulder. He quickly recomposed himself and attempted the blow once more, but Marshall was a touch faster, and began cutting the marimo lad at an incredibly rapid pace.

“IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT!” he cried as he did so, “DID YOU THINK YOU COULD EVEN HOPE TO BEAT ME, YOU WANNABE PIRATE?! THIS IS THE GRAND LINE! IDIOTS LIKE YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A HOPE OF SURVIVING BEYOND THIS POINT! WHY DON’T YOU JUST GIVE UP!!”

“SHUT UP!” Knave cried, finally bring his fist down, smashing into the swordsman’s face and sending it plowing into the ground, the sound of his nose and jaw breaking filling the air! “YOUR VOICE IS ANNOYING ME, IDIOT!”

“GNH!” the swordsman cried, then flung his sword up, cutting once more into Knave, though this time significantly deeper than previous attacks. The force of it was so great that Knave was flung into the air along with the strike! He fell backwards, a massive amount of blood spilling out of the wound, and he toppled to the ground, rapidly fading into unconsciousness...

Marshall Rihawk struggled to his feet, walking unsteadily over to where Knave was lying, his vision blurry from the force of the punch. “Stupid ass punk,” the swordsman growled, raising his sword, “DIE LIKE ALL THE REST!”

Clang!

Marshall started as he sword was blocked by an all-too-familiar pitch black blade with a dragon-like hilt. He scowled even deeper, gripping the hilt of his blade with both hands.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Pura?!”

~End of Log~

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