"What do you an by that?!"
Facing Seijurou comnt, the zombie Ryoma questioned angrily.
"Although you possess Shimotsuki Ryoma body, the swordsmanship you use belongs to Mr. Brook," Seijurou explained calmly.
"Because of this body, your strength and speed surpass Mr. Brook, but whether it your sword techniques, your habits in battle, or your strategy, there no difference between you and Mr. Brook, ow."
The little black cat shook his head, speaking with dwindling interest.
"In fact, compared to Mr. Brook, your sword even lacks his sense of conviction.
So you are neither the samurai Ryoma nor Mr. Brook—you’re rely a false being, a fusion of Shimotsuki Ryoma body and Mr. Brook shadow, ow."
Finally, Seijurou asked the most crucial question:
"You claim to be the ’Dragon-Slaying Swordsman,’ Shimotsuki Ryoma—then do you still rember the mory of slaying the dragon, or the life and swordsmanship that belonged to the samurai Ryoma, ow?"
"...Yohohohoho..."
After a mont of silence, the zombie Ryoma suddenly laughed, though his laughter carried a faint trace of sorrow.
"You’re right. I’m nothing more than the amurai Ryoma’ fabricated by Master Moriah...
How pathetic—to bear the na of a legendary swordsman, yet be unable to even wield his swordsmanship."
But just as he finished speaking, the previously unenthused Seijurou suddenly widened his eyes,
staring at the zombie Ryoma in shock—and so did Sherwin and the others watching from the side.
Because within everyone Observation Haki, the aura around the zombie Ryoma had changed subtly.
Though his physical abilities hadn’t improved, he suddenly felt far more dangerous than before.
The zombie Ryoma seed to notice the transformation within his body as well. He looked down at his own palms in surprise.
"How strange..." he murmured.
"In my mind... fragnts of mories and sword techniques that don’t belong to are surfacing... Could these be the remnants of Ryoma mories left within this body?"
He sighed for a mont, then once again took a middle stance and said to Seijurou,
"Yohohohahaha! I still can’t rember the nas of those sword techniques, but... right now, I should be able to give you a good fight!"
As the mories within Shimotsuki Ryoma body awakened, even the laughter inherited from Brook began to change.
"This is truly a pleasant surprise," Seijurou excitent returned as well.
"As for nas—those don’t matter at all, ow!"
After hearing Sherwin story, the little black cat had deliberately co up with nas for his own sword techniques, but to him, such labels were secondary.
Unaware of this, the zombie Ryoma laughed loudly. "Yohohohahaha! You’re right about that!"
With that, he took a wide step forward and charged straight at Seijurou, his sword Shusui drawing a sharp diagonal arc as he swung down in a powerful slash.
"Flying Cat Sword Style — Cat Leap Flash!"
Seijurou t him head-on, leaping upward with a reverse kesa-giri combined with an ascending slash, clashing directly with the zombie Ryoma blade.
Clang—!
The two black blades collided and instantly separated. The zombie Ryoma staggered back four steps, while Seijurou, due to his smaller size, slid backward across the ground after landing.
This ti, the two were evenly matched—neither gaining the upper hand.
"Yohohohahaha! Co again!"
The zombie Ryoma swung Shusui in wide, sweeping arcs as he pressed forward, his swordsmanship now completely different from before—each strike carried greater strength and speed.
Of course, Seijurou, who had never once backed down in a fight, didn’t hesitate to clash with him head-on once more.
The sound of blades colliding echoed endlessly as the two exchanged fierce blows.
After a bout of intense combat, the zombie Ryoma was the first to leap out of the battle circle.
"How strange—you seem to be quite familiar with Ryoma swordsmanship as well?"
He lowered his gaze, noticing his tattered garnts and several new gashes along his legs, and asked in puzzlent.
During the fight just now, the zombie Ryoma had been slightly inferior in speed and agility, and the sword techniques resurfacing from his mories had yet to reach their full power.
Still, Seijurou didn’t have an overwhelming advantage—under normal circumstances, it shouldn’t have been possible for Ryoma to be pushed back so quickly.
The only reason he was struck so easily was because the samurai cat before him had suddenly begun to show an uncanny familiarity with Shimotsuki Ryoma swordsmanship after just a few exchanges,
swiftly identifying openings in his form and slicing his legs several tis.
"When I was in the East Blue, I once t a swordsman who also bore the na Shimotsuki.
The foundation of his swordsmanship was very similar to the techniques you just used, ow," Seijurou replied honestly.
When he’d first heard the zombie Ryoma announce his na, Seijurou had already guessed their connection.
The small notebook gifted to him by Koushirou had ntioned Shimotsuki Ryoma—a once-famous ancestor of the sa clan, though from a different branch.
That was why Seijurou had spoken so much to the zombie Ryoma.
Otherwise, with his usual temperant, once he realized the zombie was rely a strengthened version of Brook, he would have shown no rcy and cut him to pieces.
"This body kin, is it?" The zombie Ryoma froze for a mont, then suddenly burst into laughter.
"Yohohohoho! What an amusing twist of fate! Very well, Hiko Seijuro, grant the honor of a warrior death!"
After several rounds of fierce battle, the zombie Ryoma had already understood his fate.
He could also sense that Seijuro ow had been holding back the entire ti.
Yet, influenced by the mories of Shimotsuki Ryoma, he chose to face death like a true samurai, rather than continue existing as a manipulated corpse.
Seijuro ow fully understood what his opponent desired.
He nodded solemnly, slid the Kikyo Sendougetsu back into its scabbard at his waist,
his left paw gripping the sheath tightly while his right paw rested lightly on the hilt.
His right foot stepped forward, body lowered slightly, the pair of feline ears pressed flat against his head as his pupils narrowed into sharp slits.
"Iai, huh? Just what I wanted."
The zombie Ryoma took the sa stance, facing Seijuro ow directly.
"Flying Felyne Sword Style: Secret Art — Celestial Cat Flash!"
"Finale — Curtain Slash!"
Perhaps it was for the sense of ritual, or simply his wish to end everything perfectly, but the zombie Ryoma used Brook style of naming to give a title to his final Iai strike.
The two figures flashed past each other at incredible speed. When they stopped, both still held their initial Iai stance — as if their blades had never even left the scabbard.
"What magnificent swordsmanship... such a pity that I couldn’t face you as the real Ryoma the Samurai."
The zombie Ryoma slowly straightened, turning his head to speak to Seijuro ow.
As the zombie Ryoma moved, a diagonal slash appeared across his waist. The next mont, his upper body slowly began to slide sideways along that cut.
At the sa ti, the zombie Ryoma suddenly opened his mouth, letting out a rasping "Ho... ho..." sound. A mass of black shadow was being forced out from within his mouth, inch by inch.
Yet, that shadow struggled fiercely, as if trying to crawl back inside.
"Klee ow, I’m counting on you."
"Leave it to Klee!"
The little doll fired a burst of fla that landed squarely on the zombie Ryoma body. In an instant, his form was engulfed and reduced to ashes.
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