Magic Swordsman In One Piece (D&D)

Two unfortunate boys, one from Earth and one from one piece. One of them wants vengeance the other wants justice. With the help of an omnipotent being, they become one. Let us see if their unfortunate lives are going to turn for the better or if it is going to be a life of misery and hardship. A/n: in this fan-fic, I am going to change people's age to fit my story. So it is going to be a bit of an AU. The system is not going the have an ego. The Sword Saint is a D&D magus subclass, and it is NOT a cultivation class. I am not going to follow D&D rules and class spells, Mc's class was inspired by D&D, but I can go beyond D&D rules and get spells from different classes or create other spells. I can only guarantee one chapter a week. Mc is not going to be a straw hat and not going to take a straw hat as a companion. Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece; it belongs to its respective author.

KuroWashi1903 · Anime & Comics
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73 Chs


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Entering puberty for the second time wasn't a good feeling. He was feeling horny and out of control, and sometimes he had emotional bursts. Back on Earth, Darius almost hung out with the wrong crew because of puberty. If only the counselor at their school and one of the patrol officers working in that area hadn't kept him under control and set an example for him. He could have been a very different person now.

At the head of the Kreegan anvil, he was trying to craft a new sword, and Kozaburo was watching him from afar. After heating it in the forge, he quenched the sword and began to examine it. He ran his fingers over its body, and his face dropped when he sensed imperfections. He grabbed the sword and threw it behind him, and it fell on top a mountain of unfinished swords.

Kozaburo was observing Kreegan as he smoked his pipe and said.

"Snotty brat, do you think you can make a meito just because you learned how to sword smithing."

Kreegan wondered if it would be weird if I didn't ask what meito was. Thanks to Darius' memories, he knew what meito was. But he still asked since, as Kreegan, he shouldn't have known that.

"What is that?"

"Not every sword produced is worthy of a name. Whenever a sword smith makes a blade worthy of the name and names it, it is called meito. Meitos are divided into four: grade blades, skillful grade, great grade, and supreme grade blades. What do you think is the grade of Wado Ichimonji?"

"I don't know, but when I'm making a sword, I'm trying to make one like it. None of the ones I made were even close to it."

When Kozaburo heard this, his mouth literally fell to the ground. From where he stood, Kreegan could see twitching of his mouth and the veins on his forehead pulsing; then he said:

"Old man, you are going to have a heart attack. Stay a bit calm."

Kozaburo lifted his teacup and threw it at Kreegan, and said:

"You snotty brat! Of course, you can't make something like Wado Ichimonji. If you could, it would be weird. Do you think everyone can make a Great Grade blade? That blade is one of my two masterpieces. If you can make a graded blade with your diapered ass, I would call you a genius. But what! You want to make a Great Grade blade. BAHWAHWAHWA, that was so funny."


Kozaburo and Koushirou sit in the engawa of the dojo, watching the children practice. Koushirou turned and offered Kozaburo a sliced watermelon.

"I can't understand your love for this fruit. It is nothing but sugar and water."

"It is refreshing to eat. I don't think you came here to question my taste in fruit. Normally you never stop by the village."

"I taught Kreegan everything I could. Now I'm going to wait to die. In this life, I have only one regret that I couldn't forge a supreme-grade blade. If we didn't have to leave Wano, maybe I could have. I have wasted years away from the forge. Now all he has to do is gain experience and find his own way. Do you have any idea what that crazy boy is trying to do right now?"

Koushirou looked at him questioningly, and Kozaburo continued to speak.

"He is trying to forge a great-grade blade. In 5 to 10 years, he definitely can."

"Did you come here to boast?"

"A little bit, but I wanted to say something else. Cut him loose. Someone like him shouldn't waste his time in a village like this, and he should go out to the vast world and find his destiny."

Koushirou took a bite of the watermelon and continued to watch the children without answering his father.

"I know very well what you are afraid of, but now he has changed. He's not that hateful kid anymore. Of course, he still hates pirates, but now he has a lot of things he wants to achieve in life. He wants to be a great swordsman and a swordsmith. Now He won't let hatred and revenge consume him."


For six months, I've been spending my time every day until noon trying to make a good sword. I may have told the old man I was trying to make a great-grade sword, but I knew that was impossible. All I wanted was to be able to create a graded blade. I looked at the mountain of discarded blades behind me and sighed deeply. I've wasted enough raw materials, and now it's time to turn them back into billets and ingots. I started melting the swords one by one using the deepest crucible.

As I took out the impurities that surfaced in the crucible, I stopped thinking about anything else, and I just kept melting every sword in the pile. Then I took one of the ingots and threw it into the forge. When it became crimson, I took it out and hammered it until it took a long thin shape. I kept folding it and hammering it repeatedly until I thought it was enough.

The sword was taking shape in front of me with every hammer strike. After a long work, I felt it was ready to quench. With high-pitched sizzling sounds, it was done. I felt good about everything I had done until now, and I held the blade to check its straightness by holding it up to my eye. It was good. When I inspected the blade, my fingers felt nothing but smoothness as I ran my fingers over the blade and its edge.

It was finished with a wavy Hamon and a shining razor-sharp edge. This was the first blade I was happy with. I carved waves onto the guard and wrapped a dark blue leather cord onto the handle. As I put on his pommel, I took a deep breath, and as I exhaled, a great exhaustion came over me. The sun was still overhead when I looked out the window. While I thought that 4-5 hours must have passed, my stomach rumbled like thunder.

"It is very normal that you are hungry. You have been working on that sword nonstop for two full days."

When he turned and looked back, Kozaburo was standing in front of the door.

"How come it's been two days since I started this?"

"If you started after I left here, yes, it's been two days."