22. A Duel with the Swordsman (3)

Shanks patted Beckman on the shoulder, entrusting him with the heavy responsibility of persuading Shariya to join the Red Hair Pirates.

He chuckled, "So, Beck, once she finishes sparring with Hawkeye, it’s all up to you."

Ben Beckman possessed a brilliant, clear mind and immense combat prowess, yet he was a playboy at heart who adored women. Naturally, he was also quite popular with them.

Beckman lifted his gaze, staring for a moment at the woman fighting Hawkeye in the distance.

"Captain, are you sure you want her to join us?"

Beckman was a competent first mate; he would never openly defy his captain’s decisions, but he felt it necessary to offer a word of caution to his carefree leader before things went too far.

"Her fighting style seems somewhat sinister," Beckman noted objectively. "She is dangerous."

Having observed the duel for a while, he could see quite clearly that every move she made was aimed at the body's vital points—ruthless and unrelenting. Furthermore, her focus remained consistently on the lower body and the eyes. A woman like that would never be a soft pushover.

Only then did Shanks begin to observe the two combatants with genuine focus.

The Red Hair and Hawkeye had sparred many times, their swordsmanship evenly matched. Shanks could discern far more from their exchange than Beckman could.

Hawkeye’s swordsmanship was a blend of hardness and softness. In Mihawk’s hands, his blade, Yoru, could be a steel edge capable of cleaving icebergs, yet it could also shift into a flexible style, using subtle force to deflect bullets or disrupt an opponent's rhythm with surgical precision. Simply put, his style was a perfect harmony of rigidity and fluidity. Moreover, through constant challenges—both given and received—Mihawk had continuously refined his craft. The speed of his strikes was unpredictable, and his ability to retract or unleash power at will remained entirely unfathomable.

Shariya’s attacks, by contrast, seemed aimed solely at ending a life, characterized by a ruthless and savage efficiency. Her swordsmanship was fluid and vicious, bolstered by the power of her Devil Fruit, which compensated for the lack of raw strength often associated with female combatants. Taken as a whole, she was certainly not to be underestimated.

"Judith’s swordsmanship looks like a failed, half-finished experiment," Shanks murmured, his brows furrowing slightly. He kept his eyes fixed on the duel, his hand resting on the hilt of Gryphon. He was already contemplating how he would handle her if they were to cross blades.

"Her attack style is swift and sharp—fast and brutal. Yet, the moment she shifts to a defensive stance, her style undergoes a complete reversal, suddenly becoming soft and yielding," Shanks explained.

Nearby, the battle between Shariya and Hawkeye raged on, with stray sword energy kicking up flurries of snow. Amidst the swirling white, the intensity of their duel only escalated.

Gradually, Mihawk began to grasp the rhythm of Shariya’s attacks, handling her offensive with ease. Though his clothes were tattered and slashed by her blade, leaving him looking somewhat disheveled, Shariya was in a far worse state. Her hair was disheveled, and a lock of it had been shorn off by Hawkeye.

She had no mind to admire the physique of a handsome man. Her gaze remained fierce, her strikes lethal, like a wolf pup brimming with fighting spirit, desperate to tear a piece of flesh from Hawkeye.