In the final moment before his body shattered, Zombie Ryuma's voice was filled with desolation.
"But birth, aging, sickness, and death are the way of life. My only regret is that my swordsmanship was never passed down."
"Young warrior, you've won. As the victor, take this Black Blade. I hope you can bring it greater glory."
As his words faded, Zombie Ryuma vanished completely, and a shadow returned to the utterly stunned Brook's body.
Zombie Ryuma was gone for good.
Yet in his final moment, he felt no fear of death, only regret that his swordsmanship had not been passed down.
His only comfort was having witnessed a truly top-tier Great Swordsman of the present era, allowing him to entrust the Black Blade Shusui to Roy without worry.
That, too, counted as finding a way to pass something down.
Only the strong were qualified to touch his sword.
The weak were unworthy.
And Roy was precisely that kind of strong man.
"A pity indeed. But what I regret is that your own shadow is long gone. It was already over back then."
Roy shook his head inwardly, a trace of regret in his voice.
If Zombie Ryuma had possessed both his body and his own shadow,
then, by combining them with Moria's ability and infusing cursed energy, he could have gained a powerful shikigami.
But a body alone, without a shadow, was ultimately useless.
His regret lasted only a moment, however. He set it aside, picked up the Black Blade Shusui from the ground, and examined it closely.
"It really is a fine blade. Quality like this is rarer than that of some Great Grade Swords."
"And this so-called tempering of a Black Blade with Haki-does it use Armament Haki or Conqueror's Haki?"
Roy already had a plan in mind.