"Oh my god, Konan, Yahiko—look! That kunoichi from the Leaf just made that massive crater with one kick! Is she even human?!"
Yahiko whispered in awe, practically bouncing with excitent as he mimicked Tsunade's stomping motion against the ground. Despite stomping until his leg went numb, he didn't even leave a mark on the dirt.
"Quiet! You'll get us spotted!"
Konan, eyes sparkling as she stared at Tsunade, reached out to stop Yahiko.
"She's amazing… I wish I could beco a kunoichi like her one day. If anyone tries to bully , I'll just beat them up!"
"Hmph. That good-for-nothing granddaughter of Hashirama... All she inherited was her grandfather's brute strength, huh?"
At that mont, a faint, mocking voice reached their ears.
Both Yahiko and Konan turned sharply toward the source, asking reflexively,
"Nagato? Did you just say sothing?"
"Huh?" Nagato blinked, as if just waking from a trance. He'd finally shaken off the strange sensation that had frozen his body earlier, but there was still an unease lingering in his chest.
"No, I didn't say anything. I think I'm just… not feeling too well."
Yahiko gave him a quick once-over.
"Then you better get so sleep when we get back. If you get sick, it's gonna be a problem—no way those doctors in town treat us without money."
Suddenly, Konan let out a soft gasp.
"Did you two just see that flash of green light?!"
…
Back on the battlefield, Hoshiyomi's Nine-Headed Dragon Flash was fully prid.
This was no technique he'd pulled from the system. It was a self-developed recreation, inspired by the legendary Battōjutsu style from Rurouni Kenshin—ticulously adapted and mastered by Hoshiyomi himself.
With his current high-level swordsmanship, Hoshiyomi couldn't unleash this move in normal conditions. It demanded the extre speed boost granted by opening the Sixth Gate—Gate of View from the Eight Gates.
The Nine-Headed Dragon Flash was a technique rooted in simplicity—a true secret art that embodied the essence of basic swordsmanship. There were no fancy flourishes, no spinning acrobatics—just the purest form of swordplay: nine foundational strikes delivered in an instant.
Downward Slash (Kesa-giri)
Upward Slash (Gyaku-kesa)
Straight Thrust
Left Lateral Cut
Right Lateral Cut
Left Rising Cut
Right Rising Cut
Reverse Wind Cut
Piercing Thrust
The principle was straightforward: cycle through these nine strikes in a blindingly short tifra, making it nearly impossible for the opponent to defend while simultaneously maintaining an impenetrable guard.
And that's exactly what Hoshiyomi did.
Caught mid-air, Hanzō had no way of performing a second Body Flicker. His only option was to engage in close-quarters combat.
Clenching his teeth, Hanzō unleashed the lightning reflexes he'd honed through years of Shunshin training. Unable to escape, he raised his sickle in a desperate counterattack.
But Hanzō wasn't just swinging blindly—he had a plan.
As he slashed with the sickle in his right hand, his left simultaneously hurled the weighted end of the chain, attacking from another angle. Two deadly strikes, one from each side.
It was a gamble—without the ability to escape, even Hanzō knew he couldn't completely parry both strikes. His goal was simple: if he couldn't win, he would force a draw. Maybe even turn the tide if Hoshiyomi hesitated.
But the result shocked him.
Two tallic clang sounds echoed—so fast they were indistinguishable—and both of his attacks were blocked.
Hanzō's eyes went wide in disbelief.
Impossible. He hadn't even seen Hoshiyomi move. A veteran Kage-level shinobi like himself couldn't track the attack with his eyes. The only reason he even realized the strikes had been deflected was due to the subtle differences in sound.
And the worst was yet to co.
Hoshiyomi's assault hadn't stopped. A third slash ca imdiately after—diagonally from Hanzō's left shoulder down toward his right hip.
Instinct—born from countless brushes with death—saved him. He leaned back just in ti, and the blade missed a vital spot by re inches.
Still moving, Hoshiyomi launched a fourth strike. Hanzō quickly raised his sickle to parry, managing to deflect it just in ti.
But his sickle was already on its last legs. The clash caused a loud crack—and Hoshiyomi changed tactics. He didn't press the attack directly. Instead, the fifth strike was aid squarely at destroying the sickle.
CRACK!
The sickle shattered completely.
Hoshiyomi originally thought that with Hanzō's weapon broken, his final four strikes would be enough to finish the fight.
He hadn't expected the "Demi-God of the Hidden Rain" to still have a trump card.
In a desperate counter, Hanzō—bleeding from a sword wound—spewed a concentrated cloud of poison mist.
This was no ordinary poison. It was even deadlier than what Ibuse had released earlier. Though small in volu, the purity was terrifying.
At such close range, Hoshiyomi had no ti to use his Wind Spiral technique to neutralize the gas. And even with Tsunade's antidote in his system, the toxin overwheld him.
The mont it entered his lungs, his limbs went numb. His furious onslaught faltered for just a split second.
But against a master like Hanzō, even half a second of hesitation was fatal.
Taking advantage of the opening, Hanzō launched himself backward—evading the sixth strike.
Even with his weapon destroyed, Hanzō didn't surrender. Gripping the remains of the sickle close to the blade, he swung the chain's weight like a teor hamr and flung it at Hoshiyomi while retreating.
If he managed to disengage, he would be outside the range of the Nine-Headed Dragon Flash.
This was a once-in-a-lifeti chance—if Hoshiyomi let him go now, he might not get another.
But Hoshiyomi made his decision in an instant.
Even with poison coursing through his body, he had the Sixth Gate's chakra cloak to protect him. As long as the weighted blow didn't hit a vital area, he could endure it.
And once Hanzō was wounded, Orochimaru and Jiraiya could finish the job.
He twisted his body, letting the weight smash into his back rather than his head or spine.
At the sa ti, Hoshiyomi aborted the remaining strikes of the Nine-Headed Dragon Flash…
…and unleashed the final thrust, the deadliest one of all.
For a mont, ti froze.
Hoshiyomi's glowing blade, Mikazuki Munechika, pierced Hanzō's abdon.
And in the sa instant, the chain weight slamd into Hoshiyomi's back.
Both warriors coughed up blood and locked eyes.
Blood still dripped from Hoshiyomi's lips—but he smiled.
Behind him, Orochimaru and Jiraiya had arrived.
Hanzō's gaze flicked to them, then back to Hoshiyomi.
"Lucky brat. If your blade had pierced just one centiter higher, you would've ruptured my poison sac. Then everyone here would've died."
He stared again at the two approaching Leaf shinobi.
A flicker of hesitation crossed Hanzō's face.
He was seriously considering… whether to rupture the poison sac himself.
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