Following the tug of the small piece of paper which moved ever so slightly in the palm of her hands, Karl slipped through the crowds and calmed her rapidly speeding heart. She was certain. He was here.
She had spotted the iconic coffin styled boat docked in one of the harbours and the murmurs of passersby frowning over the presence of one of the Shichibukai furthered confirmed her theory. Hawkeye Mihawk was here on this island.
Was she ready for this confrontation just yet? Nerves and adrenaline spiralled out of control as she merged together with the crowd - an attempt to stay off the radars of the swordsman until she had adeptly made her way into his space.
A glance down towards the Vivre card halted her steps. It was moving in the opposite direction as to before, tugging towards her. Spinning around, she jumped to the side and watched as Mihawk stopped in front of her, basked in the light of the sky, and an amused look on his face. Or as amused as a swordsman with a poker face could master.
"You should've known better than to try and hide in a crowd of ordinary people." Mihawk taunted her, pointing out her first mistake before the duel had even begun.
"It was worth a try." Karl replied seemingly relaxed and nonchalant when inside she was berating herself for her lack of foresight and already drafting up new ways of training as a self-punishment.
"I'm assuming that you have no official duty on this island… Seeing your change of get-up." He stated, eying her outfit with a raised brow. Mihawk was one of the few, fewer than the number of fingers on her hand, that knew of her female identity.
"Can't say that I'm relieved to see that you've accepted your femininity though." Yes of course, how could she forget. Mihawk was the one who drilled it into her that women were born to be physically inferior to men in terms of strength. Though he was not the reason she began dressing as a man, nor the reason she continued to do so. Even if it was she refused to admit it.
"If that is your means of asking me if I've given up on dethroning you from your seat you are mistaken." A look of indifference from Mihawk fuelled her battle instincts as she wanted nothing more than to draw her sword and maim it off his face.
"In fact, it's quite the exact opposite. I came here asking for a duel. Official or unofficial is dependent on you." This seemed to have caught his attention as he began to assess her more closely as an opponent.
"Do you think you can defeat me as you are right now." He obviously wasn't taking her words seriously, as his golden iris pierced her line of defence and taunting her spirit as a swordsman.
"I'm not expecting myself to suddenly claim your title off the beat… Right now. I came here for a duel as a means to finalise my sword style. It's kind of hard to do so when you are unable to find an opponent that can last more than a single swing of your sword." Karl pushed the memory of a certain redhead metal-wielder out of her mind as he didn't count. Or at least Mihawk didn't need to know.
"It seems that you've gotten over-confident in the years working with the marines." His voice ever so calm and his words ever so criticising.
"Very well, come. I've been summoned by the government to the weaker seas and there hasn't been anyone that was quite worth fighting. Guess duelling with you will have to do for now." Sighing inwardly in relief she followed him to the more isolated parts of the town. She was glad Mihawk was feeling rather charitable right now, she wasn't sure what she'll do if he turned her away.
It's been years since their last duel, and that was hardly worth mentioning as it only lasted a couple of minutes before her colleagues interfered, saying that it was unacceptable for a marine and a Shichibukai to be fighting each other openly in public. Though she doubted that she would've lasted much longer anyways without the interference. Besides, she kind of knew that Mihawk wasn't serious at the time when he was fighting her. He never was.
The hardness of the concrete path was replaced with a soft hush with each step she took. Mihawk had led the two of them to a seemingly unpopulated grassland. Flat grassland. Perfect for a duel.
"I hope you'll be more of a challenge this time. You are becoming less and less like the youth I first met. She showed far more potential than you have shown me these past few years."
That ignited her to deal the first strike, to be on the attacking side. Her lack of progress was as obvious to her as it frustrated her. He was right. Karl felt like she had been exposed to swords for a lifetime when she first picked up one. Even Mihawk had remarked that she was a natural, born to be a sword-master. Yet her mastery in the way of the sword seemed to have frozen in time in the following years after that. But at last when she was taken under the tutelage of Aokiji, her skills managed to improve tremendously once more.
Just when she thought she had her style of fighting down, her growth ceased again, leaving her frustrated beyond words and hence her current predicament – standing in front of Mihawk while holding onto an unnamed katana. She wasn't one to be naming her weapons, the same logic as her refusal to yell out attack names when she fought, none of them endured. She knew them by their feats and strengths.
The chain of thoughts all occurred simultaneously in a split second before she clashed swords with Mihawk and from then on all she could concentrate on was her opponent at hand.
His way with the sword was as graceful and mesmerising as it is lethal and deadly. Karl met every strike of Mihawk's Yoru with her own katana, clashing against the most powerful blade and feeling the burning strain that it placed onto her muscles.
Every fibre in her body screamed at her to stop, told her that this was not a fight she could win, yet this needs to be done. She had to do this in order to improve and finally form her style. And to fulfil that she was willing to push her body over the edge again and again if it meant that she could prolong fight just a bit longer to find out exactly what was wrong with the way she was fighting right now.
It wasn't the strength, no – she had exposed herself to merciless training in order to battle that inherent weakness being born as a girl. Her strength was at its peak, perhaps even beyond where the peak had been initially. It's not the skills she's lacking either. Contrary to popular beliefs that the admirals all solely relied on their devil fruit powers, Aokiji had been a skilled sword-master before he consumed a devil fruit which granted him more power than he could master with a steel sword. She had trained with Aokiji as well as other worthy swordsmen and had absorbed their techniques, forming her own unique attacks and skillsets. So she was sure the skills was not what she's missing either. Speed was also not the problem. In fact she'd say her speed is the only thing that she is on par with Mihawk right now. So what was it?
Remember when she said she couldn't afford to lose a split second of concentration when fighting against Mihawk. Well, her little inner contemplation certainly lasted longer than a second, and just that second costed her whole fight. Having lost her step after barely dodging a swift slice to her side, Mihawk seized the opportunity to knock her off balance completely.
Pinning his sword next to the vein of her neck, his knowing look of his supremacy loomed over her defeated form as she fisted the dusty ground, digging her nails into her palm.
"So you've improved." He broke the silence and examined the nook on his sleeves where one of her attacks managed to have pierced. But not a single drop of blood in place, at least on his side. Karl was covered in gashes of different sized wounds from the nip on her left cheekbone to the gush on the side of her right thigh. Seeing that she wasn't able to put a single cut on him she cursed.
"But not nearly as much as what I had hoped to see." Karl wasn't sure if that was a praise or another blow to her almost deflated ego, and opted out of responding to his comments. She closed her eyes and fisted through her wig of long hair. She was surprised it was still atop of her head, maybe the glue she bought was of better quality than the credit she gave it.
She wasn't sure how long had passed while she laid spread out on the soiled ground. Mihawk's figure still stood above her as he polished his sword, ridding it off her blood.
The sun was about to set when she uttered out her first words since her defeat.
"What am I missing." The question had repeated itself again and again in her mind not just during the fight and its aftermath, but throughout her journey while seeking him.
Karl had almost thought Mihawk had left after what felt like ages of silence, but then his words hit her full force.
"A stronger will with a clearer motive." He regarded her for a moment waiting for her to register his words before continuing.
"You lack a strong will. Sure you possess a will otherwise I wouldn't have agreed to even fight you. But it's not enough to take you beyond what you currently are. You will never become a swordmaster if all you chase after is empty titles and shaky ambitions." No, what he was saying was not true. She had every good reason to be where she was right now. She had lived for this. Hadn't she?
"You don't know me." It came out as a weak whisper and she absolutely abhorred the way she shrank in his presence.
"Then tell me. What else could have brought you as far as demanding a duel with me; when you already know the outcome; other than your childish desire to prove that women can be stronger than men."
"You ran away from your life as a noble, joined the Marines and then went after vague terms such as Justice. To me, it seems like you did all these without a purpose." Although his voice was level as usual, to Karl they sounded accusing and full of venom.
Before she could realise what she was doing, she had sprang up and swung at Mihawk with her bare fists having lost her katana when she was pinned down. He spoke as if he knew what she's been through… He didn't. Mihawk easily evaded her attacks and proceeded to speak in his indifferent voice,
"A swordsman without his sword is nothing. A swordsman who continued to attack when a duel has been lost does not deserve his title." His words like a tranquiliser, snapped her out of her rage, and Karl realised that indeed Mihawk had said nothing but the truth.
"Go find your meaning and purpose. There was a reason why I, myself, personally trained a youth and in doing so prolonged my stay for half a year at the island of Hyacinthus."
"Show me the fire which burned behind your eyes so vividly again."
"Find what fueled that fire. Until then we shall duel no more." His words swayed with the wind, slowly disappearing over the horizon.
"And while you do so, make sure you find yourself a decent sword. A sword reflects its wielder's skills and is meant to stay for life. Each sword is different. You switch swords too often, that's why you can't form a style." His parting words were burned into her mind as she picked up her katana. The edge of her sword was chipped from Mihawk's brutal yet elegant assaults. It was a pity, she quite liked this katana. She had only gotten it as a replacement quite recently when her last one didn't hold in a fight.
Her duel didn't achieve what she had hoped it would, but it did point her to a new path which she had to take.
But before she could tread down that path, she would need to regroup with Lex and resume her role as Captain. She couldn't really walk out of her role as a marine quite that easily.