The dust slowly settled.
Shinichi straightened his body again. He slowly raised his right arm—the standard steel-forged long sword in his hand had already been completely shattered, reduced to countless fragnts scattered across the ground.
He took a deep breath, glanced at the remaining hilt in his hand, and without hesitation tossed it aside as if it were trash.
"That power is terrifying!"
"Even the blade shattered!"
"This is bad! Is Shinichi still okay?!"
A wave of gasps and worried exclamations erupted from the stands. Many people stood up nervously, their palms slick with sweat.
"Hah!"
At the center of the arena, the warrior who had landed the blow let out a hearty, exhilarated grunt. With one hand, he pulled the halberd from the crater he had smashed into the ground, then gave it a casual swing, shaking off the dust and debris clinging to the blade.
However, he did not press the attack. Instead, he simply planted the heavy halberd beside him, its tip lightly touching the ground with a dull thud.
He just stood there, waiting quietly—his gaze seed to say: Go get another weapon. Then we continue.
"Huh? He didn't keep attacking?"
"Is he waiting for Shinichi to get a new weapon?"
"This… this guy actually has so honor?"
"Didn't look so honorable when he used a firearm or stomped on toes earlier…"
A mix of surprise and reluctant reassessnt spread through the audience.
Though his thods were still looked down upon, this gesture—halting his assault despite holding an overwhelming advantage and waiting for his opponent to rearm—unexpectedly aligned with the audience's image of Iron Country samurai etiquette.
Up on the platform, the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, watched the scene with a thoughtful glint in his eyes.
After a brief mont of contemplation, he raised a hand. An ANBU who had been standing silently in the shadows behind him stepped forward imdiately and bowed.
It was his eldest son, Sarutobi Shinnosuke.
"Shinnosuke," Hiruzen said, taking out a scroll and handing it to him. "Go. Give this iron staff to Shinichi."
During the ti the Monkey King had trained Shinichi, it hadn't only been physical conditioning—he had also taught him the staff techniques of the monkey clan.
Hiruzen knew very well that Shinichi's mastery of staff techniques was no less impressive than his swordsmanship.
The mont these words were spoken, not only did Shinnosuke pause in slight surprise, but even the advisors Homura and Koharu showed clear shock.
The iron staff!
Of course they knew what that was.
It was the personal weapon Hiruzen had used most frequently in his youth—a staff forged from special tal, both heavy and extrely durable.
Most people associated Hiruzen with the Adamantine Staff, but that weapon was the transford Monkey King and couldn't be used at all tis. Moreover, even as a master of staff techniques, Hiruzen hadn't been born knowing them—he had trained regularly.
Thus, in his youth, he had carried another weapon for sparring and daily practice—the iron staff.
This staff had accompanied him through countless battles. Only later, as his strength grew to the point where ordinary enemies could be handled barehanded, and formidable foes were dealt with by summoning the Monkey King into the Adamantine Staff, was this iron staff gradually retired, preserved more as a keepsake.
And now, Hiruzen was actually giving it to Higashino Shinichi—to use in this very mont?
Koharu frowned, hesitating to speak. Homura, however, gave Hiruzen a deep look, seemingly understanding sothing, and ultimately said nothing.
"Yes, Lord Third," Shinnosuke replied, suppressing the turmoil in his heart as he accepted the order and vanished in a body flicker.
The next instant, he appeared beside Shinichi in the arena, presenting a storage scroll with both hands.
"Shinichi-kun!" Shinnosuke's voice ca muffled through his mask, low but carrying clear goodwill. "This is the weapon Lord Third used in his youth—the iron staff!"
Shinichi's face showed just the right amount of surprise. He accepted the scroll with both hands. "The Third Hokage's weapon from back then?"
Shinnosuke nodded, then couldn't help adding in a softer voice, "The Third Hokage places great expectations on you. But Shinichi-kun, you've already perford exceptionally—far beyond anyone's expectations. Don't push yourself too hard. Rember, no matter the outco of this match, both Konoha and the Hokage are proud of you."
"I understand. Thank you, senpai."
Shinichi took a deep breath, his gaze sharpening once more. Holding the scroll in front of him, he quickly ford a simple unsealing hand sign.
Release!
A burst of white smoke exploded outward. In his hands now was a pitch-black staff over two ters long, its surface faintly gleaming with a dull tallic sheen, thicker at both ends, simple and unadorned in design.
Heavy.
Far denser than ordinary steel—the weight in his grip felt as though he were holding a miniature mountain. The staff was cold, yet faintly carried the sense of battle-hardened toughness and killing intent forged through countless fights.
Shinichi tested its weight, flicking his wrist lightly. The iron staff traced a smooth arc through the air, producing a deep, pleasing whistle as it cut the wind.
He looked up, first toward the platform, and gave a solemn nod in the direction of the Third Hokage.
Then he turned toward the warrior standing patiently at the center of the arena, halberd resting on his shoulder. Gripping the staff with both hands—one forward, one back—he assud a stance that balanced offense and defense.
His aura seed to shift with the weapon—growing heavier, more grounded, as though he were firmly connected to the earth beneath his feet.
"Isshin-san! Sorry to keep you waiting!"
Shinichi's clear voice echoed through the now-quiet arena. "Let's continue."
"Interesting brat!" Isshin laughed loudly, swinging the halberd down from his shoulder and pointing the blade toward Shinichi. "Then co!"
Before the words had even settled, the ground beneath him exploded again. His massive fra surged forward like a primordial beast charging into battle, dragging the heavy halberd with crushing montum straight toward Shinichi!
Shinichi's eyes remained calm. He neither dodged nor retreated. Planting his feet firmly, he raised the iron staff horizontally before him.
Boom!!!
In the next instant, the crescent blade of the halberd collided with the staff in a direct clash of raw force and mass!
A deafening, bell-like roar rang out, accompanied by sparks and visible shockwaves—announcing the beginning of an even fiercer exchange!
This ti, however, with the iron staff in hand, Shinichi only slid back two steps under the impact before stabilizing himself.
The staff humd—but remained completely intact!
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The relentless collisions between staff and halberd rang out like war drums struck by heavy hamrs—deep, heavy, and soul-shaking!
Each impact kicked up visible airwaves and scattered sparks. The ground beneath their feet cracked and sank continuously, the battle zone expanding as dust filled the air.
Shinichi wielded the iron staff with sweeping, forceful movents yet subtle precision—smashing, sweeping, lifting, thrusting—handling the heavy weapon as though it were an extension of his own body. Layers of staff shadows overlapped, his defense airtight, his offense fierce and powerful!
He was actually holding his own against the terrifying halberd-wielding warrior, trading blows evenly!
"My god! Shinichi… he's this good with a staff too?!"
"Isn't he known for swordsmanship? This staff technique looks incredible!"
"His strength looks just as strong as his opponent's!"
"That move just now was beautiful!"
The audience erupted in astonished cries—Shinichi had once again shattered their expectations.
On the platform, Homura and Koharu watched the young figure moving steadily through the storm of halberd strikes, iron staff in hand. Their expressions grew distant, as if seeing a scene from decades past.
"This staff technique… this presence…" Koharu murmured, her tone complicated.
"So similar…" Homura adjusted his glasses, eyes filled with reminiscence. "Back when Hiruzen was young, he was just like this—sharp as a blade, yet steady as a mountain."
"Heh…"
Hiruzen said nothing, rely stroking his beard contentedly, unable to hide the smile at the corners of his eyes.
...
On the battlefield, the clash intensified!
"Ha!"
Shinichi's gaze sharpened. Seizing the mont when Isshin's sweeping strike had overextended, he shifted his footwork and slipped into the gap within the halberd's arc like a fish darting through water. His staff followed the shaft, twisting and guiding it—then the tip shot forward like a venomous dragon, spiraling as it thrust toward Isshin's abdon!
A perfect thrust!
The timing, angle, and force were all executed to perfection, using the opponent's own montum against him!
"Hm?!"
The blow struck Isshin's abdon, sending his massive body flying back over ten ters.
"Nice!"
"It hit!"
Cheers erupted from the audience.
Chirrrrrr—!!!
But a sharp, violent sound—like thousands of birds screaming in unison—suddenly cut through the cheers.
Brilliant blue lightning erupted, like serpents breaking free of their chains, surging from his right arm and wrapping around the halberd!
Electric arcs danced wildly across the blade, crackling with terrifying intensity!
The air itself seed ionized, filled with the scent of burning ozone.
It was the technique he had learned from Kakashi Hatake—Chidori.
Not only that—Isshin had gone further, incorporating the shape transformation principles of the Rasengan into it.
More controlled. More condensed!
"What?!"
"Lightning Release?!"
"How can a samurai use Lightning Release?!"
"Isn't he from the Land of Iron?!"
The entire arena erupted in shock—this completely overturned their understanding of samurai!
"Not done yet, Konoha ninja!"
Isshin laughed loudly, stomping the ground and launching himself forward once more!
The halberd, now wrapped in boiling lightning, descended with unstoppable force toward Shinichi!
Lightning Release: Chidori Blade!
This strike carried not only his overwhelming brute strength, but also the piercing speed, penetration, and numbing effect of Lightning Release!
In that split second, Shinichi's eyes narrowed. He raised the iron staff above his head with both hands.
Boom!!!
The lightning-wreathed halberd collided with the staff again!
But this ti, the sound was completely different—tallic impact mixed with the explosive roar of lightning!
Blinding electricity surged from the point of contact, racing up Shinichi's arms and across his body!
"Ugh!"
Shinichi grunted. His arms went numb instantly as he was pushed backward, his feet carving deep trenches into the ground.
"Hah!"
With a low roar, his muscles bulged as he exerted everything he had—tilting and redirecting the halberd's force just slightly.
With a grating screech of tal, the lightning-wrapped halberd was forced off to the side—just a fraction.
But in that instant—when Shinichi's strength had been spent, his body stiffened by lightning—Isshin's left leg, swinging like a battle axe, seized the opening and slamd brutally into Shinichi's abdon!
Boom!
A heavy, dull impact.
Shinichi was sent flying like a projectile from a siege engine, completely unable to resist. He traced a long arc through the air before crashing hard into the stone wall at the edge of the arena.
Boom—!
The wall caved inward, cracks spreading like a spiderweb as dust filled the air.
"Cough… cough…"
Sliding down the wall, Shinichi dropped to one knee, barely supporting himself with the iron staff to avoid collapsing. He coughed lightly—but inwardly thought: 'That's about enough. I've seen what I needed to see, felt what I needed to feel… Next…'
...
"Too strong! This warrior's power and thods are endless! He's even using Lightning Release!"
"He's basically a beast in human skin!!"
"For Shinichi to reach this level is already unbelievable! How old is he? His body hasn't even fully developed yet!"
"Exactly! Give him a few more years, and he might… no—he definitely will!"
The audience buzzed with worry, admiration, and regret.
Many could already tell—despite his incredible talent, Shinichi was still at a disadvantage in terms of raw strength, physique, and the opponent's unpredictable arsenal.
But it wasn't his fault.
He was only ten years old.
He hadn't even reached adolescence yet.
Boom!
Before the murmurs could settle, the warrior surged forward again—like a beast from a primordial age, charging with suffocating pressure straight at Shinichi!
Each heavy step struck like a war drum against the hearts of the spectators.
Facing the oncoming assault, Shinichi took a deep breath.
His right hand ford a sword-finger seal—
At the tip of his fingers, a drop of blood-red fla ignited out of thin air!
The fla was small, yet terrifyingly dense—its core a deep crimson, radiating intense heat that distorted the air around it.
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