Anton stood quietly on the deck of the Noble Justice, his sword in his hands as the commodore took a deep breath to prepare himself. It wouldn't be long before they arrive in the West Blue, what has been stated to be the most dangerous of the Blues, and Anton wanted to be ready for the dangers that awaited him. After all, he had been called here, mainly because there was some disturbances happening here, things that required the attention of a marine of his rank. And with what Anton had faced in the past, there was no telling what he would be up against.

And so, here he was, deciding to take the time while they traveled to get himself better versed with the art of swordsmanship. Sure, he considered himself somewhat competent, if his previous encounters were anything to go by, he knew that for the most part, he relied firmly on his Devil Fruit through all his encounters. If he really wanted to be able to stand up to the dangers of the world, he would need to get used to wielding his sword as well, as well as being able to use it outside of his hybrid form.

Anton had never really taken the time to really get to know his weapon, feeling the weight of it in his hands. Any time he pulled it out was when he had to fight, and really, there were more important things on his mind at that point. He took another deep breath before swinging his sword, feeling the large blade slice through the air, getting his body used to swinging the heavy blade around. He remembered his previous training with it, trying to get in as many strikes as he could in a time limit. Now, he was able to take his time and really get used to swinging this thing around. As he swung his sword, he began swinging harder and faster, trying to replicate what he had done back in the Briss Kingdom. Get as many strikes with his sword in as possible in as short amount of time. It wasn't long though before the man's arms began to ache from the constant swinging, his breath coming out in heavy pants, before he couldn't keep up the pace much longer. Even after all he had been through, he was still finding it hard to be as fast as some of the swordsmen he had faced in the past. They had been able to move their blades like the wind, without tiring in the slightest.

Anton looked down at the blade in his hands. Then again, those swordsmen had been using katanas or rapiers, much smaller and lighter blades than the one he was holding now. Maybe, just maybe speed wasn't something he should be focusing on. The commodore looked around, spying a barrel sitting near the side of the ship. He approached it and took a look inside, finding the barrel empty. Good. He wouldn't want to spill anything while he trained. He shifted the barrel over to the middle of the open deck, making sure there wasn't anything in the way that he would damage by accident. Anton stood before the barrel, gripping his sword tightly in his hands, his eyes locked onto his target. Well, here goes nothing.

He brought the sword up, and threw all his strength in the down swing. The blade sliced clean through the wood, with only the minimalist of resistance. The blade finally stopped when it came out the other side, the end burying itself into the deck itself. Anton stared as the two parts of the barrel fell to the floor. It looked almost like a clean cut through the wood, and Anton didn't feel the least bit tired from the stroke.

"Something wrong commodore?"

Anton blinked and looked over his shoulder, seeing Celia standing behind him with some of his men, watching him. Just how long had they been standing there? Anton couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed that he had been watched. "No, I'm fine. Just doing a little practicing," he explained. Celia nodded in understanding. "Then next time, may I suggest trying NOT to damage the ship itself?" Anton blinked and looked down, realizing that his sword was burying into the floor. With a yelp, the man tried to pull the blade out, having a little bit of difficulty before finally wrenching the blade free. "Sorry about that," Anton explained, "I just don't know my own strength sometimes." Celia nodded once again as two of the marines went to move the destroyed barrel out of the way. "Maybe what you need sir is a sparring partner. After all, there's only so many barrels you can cut through."

Anton couldn't deny that sounded like a good idea. He looked around at his men, as if expecting one of them to offer. "So, who did you have in mind?" Celia smiled as she stepped forward, pushing her cloak back to reveal her pistols. "Why, me of course."


Word Count: 842

It wasn't long before the ship was alive with gunshots, and much, much screaming. Celia had wasted no time in drawing her weapons and opening fire on her superior. And her superior, in turn, wasted no time in changing into his hybrid form and bouncing out of there for dear life. His men were watching the battle from the sidelines and honestly, they really couldn't blame him. Celia Stanson could be quite scary, despite her small stature, what with her no nonsense attitude and her rather harsh scolding. They could only imagine what it would be like to be on the receiving end on her bullets. To be her enemy.

And right now, Anton La'croix was experiencing it for himself.

"Commodore!" Celia called out to the marine hiding up in the mast, "Get down here! We're supposed to be sparing! What would your men think of this?" "I think," Anton yelled out from up above, "That they're really happy they're not me right now!" Celia's eye twitched as she aimed her pistol up and fired. There was a loud yelp and suddenly they watched as Anton, in his hybrid form, fell to the deck with a crash. The commodore laid there, twitching for a moment before slowly pushing himself to his feet, groaning. "I mean," Anton replied, rubbing his head (though whether it actually hurt due to his exo-skeleton, nobody was sure), "It wouldn't exactly be fair. After all, you've got a pair of guns and I have a sword. How are you going to defend yourself from my attacks?" Celia put her hands on her hips, giving him a credulous look. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much. After all, who was it that rescued you?" Anton couldn't deny that. He was at a loss for words, and the commander knew she had won the argument. "Well then, let's get started shall we? And don't you dare hold back!" She stepped away from him to put some space between them, a look on her face showing that she was completely serious about this.

Anton let out a small groan before suddenly leaping towards her, sword ready to strike. As he swung, Celia fell back, catching herself on her feet and suddenly lashing out with her foot to strike the blade as it sailed overhead. The blow knocked the sword upward, throwing Anton off balance before the smaller woman sprang back to her feet, firing her guns at his torso point blank. Anton's exoskeleton would protect him from any lethal damage, but being shot from point blank still hurt like heck. He jumped back and to the side, trying to avoid getting shot at again before launching himself at her, attempting to tackle her to the floor. Celia merely rolled to the side, causing the commodore to fly past. Anton managed to recover, quickly turning to face his second in command.

"Come on sir," Celia said, her voice scolding, but her expression was playful, "You can do better than that! Don't tell me you got this far simply by doing that!" Anton wasn't really willing to admit it, but that was pretty much it. Anton started towards her, bouncing from side to side, trying to throw her off before suddenly shooting forward. As Celia moved to dodge, Anton suddenly stopped himself as he went past and quickly turned to slash. Celia let out a small yelp as she moved to dodge, avoiding the strike as Anton brought his blade up for a downward strike. Celia rolled aside to dodge it.

And suddenly, an arc of what could only be described as air suddenly shot from Anton's blade, slicing through the wooden floor of the deck in front of him. Everything seemed to freeze as everyone stared at the gash in the floor. Slowly, all eyes turned to Anton, who couldn't believe his own eyes.

"Erm...I can safely say I did NOT mean to do that."


Word Count: 659