One Piece: The Strongest Asura

"I'll prove it. Tomorrow, you'll see this blade fully in my hands. Nothing will stop me from claiming it," Zallor declared with unwavering determination. He couldn't accept that a mere sword could resist him. He had already mastered a cursed blade before; why should a sealed sword pose any challenge?

The patriarch smiled at Zallor's confidence but offered a word of caution. "Take care of yourself. Your body is stronger than before, but it's still fragile. Mastery doesn't happen overnight."

Seeing Zallor's newfound resolve, the patriarch felt both relief and doubt. Perhaps the young man could achieve greatness. But was that enough to restore their family's legacy? He sighed inwardly. "What am I hoping for? Revival isn't possible if people's hearts have already died. Survival is all that matters now."

Zallor, however, had no interest in the family's ambitions. His sights were set on a single goal: reuniting with his crew in the Grand Line. Saving the world or rebuilding a dynasty didn't concern him. He wasn't a hero—just a man with ambition.

As he stood before the Hidden Snow Blade, excitement surged through him. "This sword won't best me. I'll make it submit."

Gripping the handle, he braced himself against the sword's icy defiance. After a moment of focused effort, the blade began to yield. A sliver of light emerged from the sheath, and with it, a piercing cold enveloped the air. Frost formed on the tip of Zallor's nose as an intense chill radiated from the exposed edge.

"So, you demand something more to reveal your full power, huh?" Zallor smirked. "Fine, let's see if this works."

Recalling an old technique for bonding with a weapon, Zallor bit his finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the blade. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, he felt a shift—a change in the sword's aura. The cold lessened, and the blade seemed to hum faintly, as though acknowledging him.

Zallor grinned. "Got you." With renewed strength, he pulled the blade free.

The Hidden Snow Blade gleamed like freshly fallen snow, its frosty sheen reflecting Zallor's determined face. The blade was heavier than most—twenty-one jin—but its balance felt perfect in his hand. Unlike any weapon he had wielded before, it exuded an aura of elegance and danger.

To test its power, Zallor approached a nearby boulder. Without hesitation, he slashed. A clean white arc flashed through the air, and the boulder split in two with shocking ease.

Zallor's eyes widened. "So sharp..." He had faced many swords in his life, and breaking inferior ones was almost routine for him. But this sword was different—it seemed indestructible.

Admiring the weapon, Zallor whispered, "Hidden Snow Blade, from this moment on, you're my companion. Stick with me, and I promise we'll carve our mark on this world."

For Zallor, the bond with a weapon was more than physical—it was spiritual. He believed that strength came not just from the blade but from the swordsman's will. A strong sword was meaningless without a strong master.

He remembered his fight with Hawkeye, where a simple fruit knife had bested him. That was the power of mastery—a level of skill and intent he still aspired to reach.

Determined to test the blade further, Zallor stepped back and executed a powerful slash. "Thirty-Six Calamities!" he shouted, unleashing a devastating wave of energy. The white slash tore through the sky, surpassing even his strongest attacks with his previous weapon.

Zallor's smile widened. The Hidden Snow Blade was indeed worthy of its legendary status. With it, his ambitions felt closer than ever.

"This is it," he thought. "With this sword, I'll rise to new heights. The Grand Line won't know what hit it."