White Ghost walked over to Zoro, crouched beside him, and studied the boy—who stubbornly refused to pass out.
A red-gold flame rose from White Ghost's palm as he pressed it lightly to Zoro's wound.
The bleeding stopped almost immediately. The torn flesh knitted, scabbing over at a speed that felt unreal.
"I can erase the scar completely," White Ghost said, watching Zoro's color return. "Want that?"
"No." Zoro lifted his chin, defiant even while injured. "A man can't live without scars. Leave it."
White Ghost smirked. "So—seen how big the world is yet?"
Zoro nodded, pushing himself upright into a seated position. "Yeah. The world's insanely strong."
Then his eyes lit up.
"That just makes it more interesting."
White Ghost pulled out a sheathed sword and placed it in front of him.
"This is yours," he said. "Sandai Kitetsu—a cursed blade."
Then, more seriously:
"If you want it to acknowledge you, you do it yourself."
Kozaburo's eyelid twitched.
Another cursed blade… how many good weapons has this guy hoarded?
White Ghost left Zoro to figure it out, then walked to Kozaburo and handed him a case.
Inside were two broken pieces of a green-tinged sword.
"This was a blade that was just short of becoming a Great Grade," White Ghost said. "I cut it. See if you can melt it down and reforge it."
Kozaburo opened it and stared at the fragments. Even broken, the sword radiated a cold, hostile presence.
He studied it for a moment, then recognized it.
"Seven-Star Sword…"
This was the kind of weapon whispered about in old stories—too vicious for ordinary hands. Kozaburo didn't exaggerate when he said that if you tossed a thing like this into a country, it could drag the whole place into disaster.
He looked up sharply. "Who fought you with this?"
"No one," White Ghost answered calmly. "I broke it because I wanted what was sealed inside."
As he spoke, White Ghost opened his shirt.
Kozaburo and Koushirou's eyes widened.
On White Ghost's chest was a green Seven-Star mark, faintly glowing in the dim light—its ominous aura unmistakable.
"So that's why your killing intent earlier carried something else," Kozaburo muttered. "You subdued the demonic aura sealed in Seven-Star Sword… and made it your own."
Kozaburo exhaled slowly and steadied himself.
"Do you want it repaired—or do you want something new forged from it?"
White Ghost took out a design sheet and handed it over. "See if you can make something like this."
Kozaburo studied the drawing, then clicked his tongue in admiration. "Interesting shape. Never forged a blade like this before. Does it have a name?"
"Tang Hengdao."
Kozaburo grinned. "Good name. Good blade."
White Ghost then produced several bundles of high-quality forging materials and set them down.
"I'm not in a rush," he said. "Just finish it before I leave the East Blue."
Kozaburo and Koushirou stared at the pile, their eyes jumping.
These were rare materials—real treasure in a smith's hands.
"Alright," White Ghost said simply. "I'm leaving it to you."
Kozaburo's expression turned almost youthful, the itch of craftsmanship rising. "I won't disappoint you."
After he stored the materials, Kozaburo hesitated, then asked, "Can I look at Shusui again?"
White Ghost didn't argue—he still needed the old man's work.
He placed Shusui on the table. "Go ahead."
Then he turned, because Zoro had started moving.
Zoro stood, drew Sandai Kitetsu, and examined it carefully.
White Ghost watched quietly.
Is the famous scene about to happen…?
Kuina leaned close to White Ghost and spoke softly. "Can Zoro really tame that blade? It feels… wrong."
"It was always meant to be his," White Ghost replied.
Kuina relaxed.
Nearby, Nami tugged lightly at White Ghost's sleeve, pouting. "White Brother… I want to learn sword stuff too."
White Ghost smiled and patted her head. "Not yet. Focus on what I've been teaching you. I'm saving something better for you."
"Hmph…" Nami grumbled, but she looked pleased anyway and stayed near him, watching.
Kozaburo and Koushirou exchanged a look—saying nothing, but clearly thinking the same thing:
This crew really trusts him.
Zoro glanced up. "The previous owners of this blade… they all died in strange ways?"
White Ghost nodded without hesitation. "Not just strange. Horrible."
Zoro's lips curled, showing bright teeth. "Is that so?"
Then he lifted the blade.
"Then let's see if I'm worthy of it."
He tossed Sandai Kitetsu into the air.
He extended his left arm, palm up—directly beneath the falling blade—and closed his eyes.
Senior Pink watched with open approval. "That's a real man."
Urouge pressed his palms together. "A great will."
Pedro's eyes sharpened, impressed. "Betting his arm… what a lunatic."
Enel gave a short nod. "That one will be dangerous someday."
Jango grimaced. "Are all swordsmen insane?"
Everyone stared, refusing to use Observation Haki. They wanted to see it raw—luck against curse.
Sandai Kitetsu spun downward, howling through the air—
The edge aimed straight at Zoro's forearm, determined to take it.
By all logic, his arm should've been severed.
But at the last instant—
The blade turned.
The back of the sword skimmed Zoro's arm as it rotated.
Thunk!
Sandai Kitetsu stabbed into the deck, half the blade buried.
Zoro opened his eyes, smiling like he'd been waiting for this his whole life.
"I won."
White Ghost nodded. "Then it's yours."
Zoro pulled the sword free and sheathed it. Then his face turned dead serious as he looked at White Ghost.
"I only have two swords."
His eyes slid to Shusui.
"That one looks perfect for me."
White Ghost's expression went flat. "Keep dreaming."
Then, colder:
"Even if I gave it to you, you couldn't hold it."
"If the world learned you had a black blade in your hands, this village would be drowned in blood."
Koushirou spoke up quietly. "He's right, Zoro."
"People are dangerous. Until you have the strength to protect what you carry… you invite endless killing."
Zoro bowed deeply. "Understood, Teacher."
Then he looked back at White Ghost, stubborn as ever.
"So you're saying… once I'm strong enough, it's fair game?"
White Ghost had a rare moment of regret.
Maybe I should've hit him harder earlier.
He waved them off. "We're leaving. No more guests on my ship."
Kozaburo chuckled and turned away. Koushirou gave Kuina one last look—said nothing—and followed.
Zoro stared at White Ghost. "I'll take Shusui someday."
White Ghost dug a finger in his ear. "People die."
"Then we'll see who," Zoro shot back—and left after giving Kuina a final glance.
White Ghost looked at Kuina. "Not going to say goodbye properly?"
Kuina shook her head. "No need. I have my road. He has his. We'll meet again."
White Ghost nodded. "Fine. It's not like you're parting forever."
Then he clapped his hands once. "Alright—everyone back to it. My ship's free."
The Dragon Emperor raised its sails and set off again.
On the shore, Zoro watched it disappear into the distance.
"Hmph. I'll beat you… and I'll take Shusui."
Kozaburo smiled faintly. "If you want to beat a man like that, you'll need to work for it. He's already standing near the top of this sea."
He said no more, turning back with the materials in hand.
I'll treat my grandson-in-law's request properly.
◇ BONUS & SUPPORT ◇
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 10 reviews — drop a comment!
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ Read 60 chapters ahead on P@treon → patreon.com/StrawHatStudios