Chapter 469: Clash of Swords: Zoro and Ryuma’s Fierce Duel

“That was a direct thrust. If I’d used that move myself, there’s no way it would’ve packed such a punch.”

All these techniques belonged to Brook, but neither he nor his old self could’ve unleashed them with such overwhelming power.

“Is that guy really that strong?”

“And where did that ghost go?”

Franky tossed out the question and then started scanning the area, head bobbing as he searched for any sign of Perona.

He looked downright menacing, arms wrapped around his cannon. If Perona dared to show herself, he’d probably fire without a second thought.

“That guy’s strength is off the charts. He’s still just a zombie now, nowhere near the power he had in life—but his body belonged to someone famous back then.”

Because of the link through his shadow, Brook only received fragmented memories. He knew Ryuma was the strongest swordsman on his island, a name that echoed through the land. Still, he hadn’t realized just how terrifying Ryuma’s strength was.

No wonder he was called the greatest samurai.

“But—can his slashes really produce sword aura too?”

Brook still didn’t fully grasp how powerful the Straw Hats were. In his mind, they were just a crew who’d barely entered the first half of the Grand Line. He’d seen plenty of similar pirates over the years, and none had truly impressed him.

“A draw, huh!”

“Yep, a draw!”

The moment Ryuma thrust, Zoro had reacted with a ranged slash. Ryuma dodged without breaking a sweat, which is why the remark came up.

“That samurai zombie only moves thanks to my shadow. But in life, he was a ridiculously powerful swordsman.”

“And that green-haired guy’s no pushover either. As swordsmen, the two of them might be evenly matched.”

With no luck finding Perona, Franky turned his attention to Zoro and Ryuma’s battle. Brook’s words caught his ear immediately.

“So if both swordsmen are just as strong, who’ll win?”

“When their destructive power is that close, it won’t take long for someone to emerge as the winner.”

Brook’s tone grew heavy. Sword fights were always brutal, especially when two evenly matched warriors faced off. It was kill or be killed. But seeing Zoro stand his ground gave Brook hope that he could get his shadow back.

Step!

Swish!

“Prelude—Touch Blade Attack!”

The two clashed instantly. Ryuma launched into an ancient European fencing technique, right hand gripping his blade as he thrust and retracted in rapid succession.

Zoro responded with a seamless wall of swirling blades.

Their weapons met briefly and then broke apart.

“Two-Sword Style—Flash!”

Zoro tightened both swords and swept from right to left, his body snapping through a 180-degree spin.

Ryuma saw the shift and followed the motion, twirling clockwise with his own blade.

As they spun, their bodies drew closer. Just before they collided, both reversed direction, swinging again.

Clang!

Using Ryuma’s strike as leverage, Zoro leaped into the air.

“Bear Crusher!”

Twin blades in hand, Zoro pointed down, balancing on the flat of the swords and diving toward Ryuma like a hammer.

Ryuma countered with a sweeping slash, but Zoro dropped with unstoppable force. When their blades crashed, Ryuma skidded backward several meters, struggling to hold his ground.

Swish, swish, swish!

No sooner had Ryuma steadied himself than he lashed out with a flurry of thrusts. Zoro, still midair, had to give up his assault and retreat.

As Zoro’s attack faltered, Ryuma dashed forward, feet a blur. “Revolutionary Waltz—Charge Attack!”

But Zoro had seen this before. He swiftly sheathed both swords.

“Two-Sword Style Iaido—Rashomon!”

This was an advanced draw technique—blades whipped from their sheathes in a cross to block attacks while slicing the enemy, then snapped back in place, ready for another strike.

As the fighters passed each other, the earth split at their feet, leaving behind two deep trenches.

“He blocked it! He actually blocked it.”

Even though it was Brook’s technique Ryuma had used, Brook had never seen anyone parry his swordplay like that.

“Seventy-Two Pound Phoenix!”

“Dionysian Waltz—Encore Strike!”

The barrage didn’t stop—blades and sword aura flew everywhere, shredding the ground. What had been rocky earth was crumbling, dug and churned again and again.

Watching the battle get fiercer, Brook’s mouth dropped open and stayed that way.

With each clash, the two swordsmen went all in, swinging blow after blow, burning through their stamina at a rapid pace.

Even then, bursts of sword energy still erupted from their exchanges.

Brook stared in awe. “Who would’ve thought I’d see a legendary swordsman’s duel right here?”

Back in Brook’s day, there was no such thing as the world’s greatest swordsman.

If you wanted to get stronger as a swordsman then, you either trained relentlessly or went to sea and dueled other swordsmen. Nobody really knew what made a sword truly the strongest.

After several more minutes, both fighters stood winded, panting hard, each on opposite sides of the field.

This was the hardest Zoro had fought since setting out to sea.

Every burst of sword aura cost stamina. Fighting nonstop for so long pushed Zoro’s limits.

On top of that, Zoro felt both swords start to creak and moan in protest.

He realized that if he kept up this intensity, his blades would give up before he did.

Turns out that even swords clad in Armament Haki couldn’t withstand a black blade steeped in decades of darkness.

“The legends were true—a great swordsman’s body and spirit are the real deal.”

After the fight, Ryuma’s name echoed in Zoro’s mind. The swordsman hadn’t introduced himself, but the Kanji for Ryuma was etched on both sleeves of his coat.

As a kid, Zoro heard stories from his master about the Dragon-Slaying Swordsman, Shimotsuki Ryuma.

A subtle twitch of Ryuma’s right hand caught Zoro’s full attention.

He glanced at the zombie swordsman across from him—both were running on fumes. Zoro slid his twin swords into their sheaths, ready for the final clash.

“One-Sword Style—Flying Dragon!”

A colossal blue dragon—over ten meters long—swallowed Zoro’s silhouette and swept its tail at Ryuma with thunderous speed.

“Roar!”

“One-Sword Style—Dragon Slash!”

A misty purple light shot upward from below.

No one could actually see how fast it happened—the flash of light barely registered. All they caught was a huge arc of sword energy tearing through the air, purple as a thunderbolt, in the next instant standing atop the dragon’s head.

Silently, the dragon’s head split in two. Its enormous body melted away in a heartbeat, dissolving like snow in sunlight.

But both fighters soared upward, and before their blades even met, Zoro’s left sword burst into flames—One-Sword Style—Blazing Flame.

Rip!