The subsequent days were a blur of training and tranquil seas. The Solar Rift Pirates settled into a routine to their lives, but it was fleeting. In the great, ever-changing sea, calm could be an illusion. For now, however, it was the calm before the storm—a breather to become stronger before the real challenges of the Grand Line came knocking.
Solian was at the side of the ship, gazing out into the distance. The waters were smooth and flat, and they mirrored the sky like glass. The feeling of growing stronger, slowly and incrementally, had stayed consistent since combat with Kordak. It was a discomforting reassurance for Solian to know that his power was increasing step by step, day by day, inching him toward whatever he wanted.
He closed his eyes and extended his arms. He understood since then that power does not come to the doorsteps all at once. The secret was consistency, pushing himself, even when everything around him seemed to stay the same.
Drilling on the Deck
The sun climbed higher in the morning, casting its rays on the vessel. On the deck, the crew was already working hard, each one of them intent on doing what they had intended to do.
Vance stood by the mast of the ship, sword ready. He focused, cutting the air with swift, precise strokes. His movements were fluid, but he was determined to push himself beyond his current limits. Solian saw the same fire in his eyes that Solian had seen from the very start—a fire that would not be quenched easily.
"Vance," Solian yelled out, "how's the sword training coming along?"
Vance smiled, wiping away a thin veil of sweat that had formed on his forehead. "Slow, but steady. Feels like I'm in better shape. but there's always someone tougher out there." He chuckled. "But you know, I thrive on it."
Solian nodded. "We're all in the same boat. Push yourself."
Kael, perched on a barrel at the rear of the ship, donned his glasses and focused on his own set of practice gear. He was practicing precision and reaction time, firing small targets up into the air and trying to hit them before they touched down. His reactions were swift, but it was clear that he was still struggling to get the accuracy exactly where he wanted it.
"How's practice going, Kael?" Solian asked, trying to sound relaxed.
Kael would not look up. "I'm getting there. The trick is to hit where you aim—no hesitation. The Grand Line isn't going to wait for me to catch up."
Solian smiled. "A true statement, but you're on the right path. Just be careful for the surprises. It's not always going to be about accuracy—sometimes, it's about being able to cover your bases when things happen around you."
In the following hull, Jorin conditioned his strength and combat stamina. He trained by punching thick wooden pillars with his fists and elbows, and his punches echoed with the power of his muscles in the making. Sweat flowed across his face as he pummeled harder, faster, and longer.
"How's it going, Jorin?" Solian asked, looking at him from the other side of the deck.
Jorin wiped the sweat from his brow and gave a tired but satisfied grin. "You're going to regret pushing me so hard when I'm the one carrying the entire crew on my back in the Grand Line."
Solian chuckled. "We'll see about that."
Solian's Continued Haki Training
After making sure his men were fine, Solian returned to his own training. His muscles hurt, but he was aware that the only way for him to become stronger was by keeping at it. Solian stood in the center of the deck once more, his vision zeroing in on the Haki training that had been the mainstay of his growth.
The key to Haki, he'd realized, was perception. It wasn't so much reacting as seeing through the people surrounding you. Battle with Kordak had proved to him exactly how vital Observation Haki might be in gauging where someone would be moving before that movement had yet to take place. Now he had to achieve that for himself.
He spun around, shutting out all sights and sounds but the thrum of the ocean and the thud of his own pulse.
He began with simple moves: sensing the air about him, listening to the movement of his crew, and sensing the changing mood of his men.
He had Vance strike without rhythm, making Solian rely only on his senses to predict the next blow.
WHAM!
Vance's fist crashed into Solian's stomach, and he stumbled backward. He clenched his teeth and regained his balance in an instant, sweat streaming from his forehead.
"Faster," Solian instructed himself. He closed his eyes, reaching deeper, looking for that feeling of awareness.
Again.
WHAM!
Another punch came, but this time Solian was able to duck—just barely.
A grin played on his lips. "Progress."
A Calm Evening
With the sun setting, the crew returned as a unit. Their rhythm of training had taken on a more relaxed, nearly meditative tone now. They weren't pushing themselves quite so hard as they had been during the battle against Kordak, but they were ramping up each day with every member getting stronger.
Solian sat at the edge of the deck, his legs dangling over the side, watching the waves ripple beneath him. His mind drifted, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to just be—to appreciate the peace and quiet they had earned.
"I think we're ready," Solian spoke softly, his voice carrying in the still air. "Not all the way, but we're on the right track."
Vance, wiping the sweat from his brow, joined him, sitting on the edge of the deck. "Ready for what?"
"For what's coming," Solian answered. "The Grand Line's going to be tough. But we're not going in blind. We're training. We're growing."
Jorin and Kael approached, and the four of them sat together in contemplative silence, the sun dipping below the horizon as it painted the sky orange and pink.
"We've still a ways to go," Kael said, his usual gravitas resuming command. "But we're changed from the state we were when we first set out."
"We're a unit," Jorin added, the inflection of his tone infused with firm resolve.
Solian smiled, feeling the truth in their words. "Exactly. And no matter what happens, we remain as one."