Hinata: Byakurenden
Seven Samurai Minus One
The white lotus of the Nichiren Byakugan bloomed in the center of Hinata's pupils, a symbol of power and clarity that transcended her fears. Its intricate design pulsed faintly as natural energy flowed into her, merging seamlessly with her chakra. The fact that she could still access this power was proof that Kali was doing her part, silently drawing in the world's natural energy to mold and merge it for Hinata's use.
Kali hadn't abandoned her duty, despite the tension and the unresolved conflict between them. The shade of her mentor lingered at her back, still and steady, a silent but firm presence in this critical moment. A small wave of comfort washed over Hinata at this realization, dissolving the lingering doubts she had secretly harbored. She had feared, deep down, that when the time came, Kali might refuse to help her, might leave her alone in the face of such overwhelming danger.
But that fear had been pointless. Kali was still there, still guiding her, even if silently. Guilt bubbled to the surface, tinged with the bitterness of self-reproach. How could she have doubted her? Hinata resolved then and there that once the battle was over and she had a quiet moment to herself, she would return to the interstate of their shared minds and apologize. Not because she believed her own path was wrong, but because she didn't want to leave things between them strained. Kali had earned better than that.
Yet those thoughts would have to wait. Now, all that mattered was the battle before her.
The summit had fallen to chaos, Deidara and Kakuzu's devastating attacks having torn the Samurai fortress asunder, its once-proud structure reduced to a crumbled ruin in the valley of the Sanrō. Dust and debris lingered in the air as Hinata's enhanced vision tracked the Samurai retreating into a wide underground hallway—a hidden bunker carved deep into the mountain. It wasn't an escape route. The Samurai weren't running; they were fortifying, regrouping for their counterattack.
Hinata wasn't alone in her pursuit. Tayuya, Ei, Darui, and Shee were right behind her, each ready to fight at her side. Despite their combined strength, they were still outnumbered—six blades of the Bloody Mist against the five of them. But Hinata knew that the key to victory wasn't just their numbers; it was their ability to shatter the swords. She had done it before, and if she could do it again, they could quickly turn the tide of battle.
The thought struck her as surreal—fighting alongside the Kumonin to destroy the Seven Swords of the Mist. It felt almost impossible to reconcile. On her third birthday, it had been Kumogakure who had sent shinobi to kidnap her, their failure leading directly to the death of her uncle. Now, years later, here she was, trusting those same shinobi to guard her back as she fought for their survival as much as her own.
Her mind turned to Samehada, the sentient blade she had destroyed two years ago. Back then, it hadn't been a calculated act but a desperate one, born of sheer instinct to survive a deadly encounter between two S-rank Nukenin. Yet that singular moment had altered the legend of the Seven Swords forever, permanently reducing their number to six. Now, she was tasked with finishing what she had inadvertently started. It was strange how fate had a way of circling back, drawing her into battles she never thought she would face again.
The moment Hinata stepped into the underground hall, her Nichiren Byakugan painted the entire space in sharp, vivid clarity. The hallway stretched far beyond what normal sight could comprehend, its walls of rough-hewn stone reinforced with dark iron beams that shimmered faintly under the dim lighting of scattered sconces. The light flickered, casting long, dancing shadows across the expanse, the flames struggling against the unnatural tension in the air. Dust still floated in lazy swirls, remnants of the earlier destruction above ground.
This was no ordinary bunker. It was a massive, labyrinthine escape route carved out of the very earth, built not just for retreat but to withstand assaults. Its scale seemed almost endless, a stark reminder of the Land of Iron's military might. The air was thick, stale with the scent of dust, sweat, and the faint tang of blood—a space that had become a battleground as much as a sanctuary.
Hinata's group came to a halt at the first intersection, where the enemy was already waiting. The six samurai stood like statues, their gleaming armor catching the sparse light and throwing it in sharp reflections. Each of them exuded an imposing aura, their weapons—artifacts of legend—held with practiced ease. The soft clinking of their metal armor filled the silence as they shifted into defensive stances, their heavy footfalls resonating across the space like ominous drumbeats.
Behind them, the hall seemed to widen and darken further, fading into shadows where neither torchlight nor chakra could fully penetrate. The space was vast enough to allow for chaos, an arena that seemed designed to channel and amplify every clash of blade and chakra. It felt like stepping into the maw of some great beast, its gullet yawning open to swallow them whole.
Hinata stepped forward, her white lotus of the Nichiren Byakugan blooming vividly in her pupils as she came face to face with one of the samurai. He was the tall man with thick, pronounced eyebrows, wielding Hiramekarei. Wrapped in bandages like Samehada had once been, its silhouette was strange—broad and flat, resembling the body of a flounder. The man gripped it firmly with both handles, positioning himself between her and the armored samurai behind him, who wielded Shibuki, the sword with an attached scroll primed with explosive tags.
To her right, Tayuya squared off against the other unmasked samurai. He was bald, his dragon tattoo coiled menacingly across his scalp, and he wielded Nuibari, the needle-like blade with a long wire trailing behind it, as though it were an extension of his body. His sharp gaze was locked onto Tayuya, his presence as much a threat as the weapon he carried.
Ahead of them, Ei strode toward Mifune himself. The Raikage and the Shogun of the Land of Iron stood poised to clash in a battle of titans. Mifune gripped Kiba, the twin swords charged with electricity that crackled ominously in his hands. The eerie glow mirrored the lightning aura engulfing Ei's muscular frame, his signature Lightning Armor. It was an even match of raw power and technique.
Darui and Shee held their ground against the remaining two armored samurai. One bore Kubikiribōchō, the massive, butcher-knife-shaped blade, its jagged edge glinting ominously in the dim light. The other carried Kabutowari, the hammer and ax linked by a chain, each swing promising to shatter whatever dared to stand in its way.
"So it's come to battle, after all," Mifune said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. His eyes shifted between the ninja and his samurai, calm and calculating even in the face of open hostility. "We had hoped you would come to see reason. Amaterasu-sama is the light that guides the world, and all should feel honored to serve as her vassals."
"There's no honor in bowing your head to false prophets!" Ei roared, shrugging off his ceremonial Raikage robes to reveal his massive physique. His muscles rippled as the electric chakra surrounding him intensified. He took a single step forward, the sheer force of his energy sending a tremor through the ground.
Mifune, however, barely acknowledged him. His focus had already shifted to Hinata. "The White Lotus," he said, his tone carrying both recognition and curiosity. "In truth, we desired to test ourselves against you—the one who robbed us of the complete set of the mystical ninja blades. These treasures were long coveted by us samurai, who wield swords with honor. They never should have belonged to ninja, who only wield poison and fight from the shadows."
"She's not the only one you're fighting here!" Tayuya interjected, stepping protectively in front of Hinata. She held her arm out as though creating a barrier between the samurai and her friend. "Don't think we came here just to watch. I've got confidence in being able to break one of those oversized tin toys of yours, too."
Hinata glanced at Tayuya in surprise. Was she serious? Did she really think she could destroy one of the Seven Swords, or was this just Tayuya's trademark bravado? Either way, her fierce determination was undeniable.
"The young lady is right," Darui added, stepping forward with his broad sword glowing faintly with lightning chakra. "Sorry to say, but it'd be a dull fight if you underestimate the rest of us."
"Our apologies," the bald samurai said smoothly, pointing Nuibari directly at Tayuya. "I shall strike you down first, on my name as Okisuke."
"And I shall be the one to take your head, White Lotus," the tall man with Hiramekarei said as he stepped toward Hinata, bowing slightly. "My name is Urakaku. Don't think little of me and my companion for coming at you two on one. We cannot afford to take any chances with the one who already destroyed a blade of legend."
The armored samurai beside him, wielding Shibuki, stepped into formation without a word, their presence together as seamless as the blades they carried.
"There's no need to name yourselves!" Ei's voice cut through the moment like thunder, his contempt for their decorum evident. "This isn't one of your honorable samurai duels—this is war!" Without further warning, he surged forward, transforming into a streak of lightning too fast for most eyes to track. The crack of thunder and the boom of his impact echoed through the underground corridor.
The sudden explosion of action marked the beginning of the battle.
The clash between Ei and Mifune exploded through the hall with a sound like a thunderclap, the force of their strikes rippling outward in shockwaves that made the air vibrate. The Raikage's golden vambraces crackled with volatile lightning, clashing against Mifune's twin blades, Kiba, which sparked with arcs of electricity that lashed out wildly. The concrete beneath Mifune's feet fractured in a spiderweb pattern, his stance unyielding even under Ei's incredible strength.
Despite Ei's sheer power and speed, Mifune's legendary Iaijutsu technique made him an impossible target to overwhelm. Each swing of Kiba was a precise, blindingly fast counter to Ei's onslaught, their movements blurring together in a storm of crackling energy. Bolts of lightning ricocheted off their clashing weapons, whipping through the air like whips, gouging deep lines into the walls and floor. Any who dared remain near their battle would have been scorched to ash.
The other Samurai, recognizing the danger, leapt back in perfect synchronization, their movements sharp and disciplined. As they landed, the ninja immediately sprang into pursuit, the two groups splitting off into their own chaotic skirmishes.
"Raiton: Lightning Illusion Flash!" Shee barked from the rear, his hands moving in a rapid series of seals. A brilliant flare erupted, its radiance momentarily filling the hall with blinding light. The Samurai wielding Kubikiribocho staggered, the genjutsu disorienting him and stealing his sight. His head snapped back and forth as he tried to regain his bearings, his instincts screaming at him to prepare for the attack he couldn't see coming.
Darui, already moving with deadly precision, didn't hesitate. "Sorry, but I'll be claiming the first sword for myself," he muttered, his broadsword gleaming as lightning chakra surged along its edge. He swung down in a sharp, decisive arc.
Despite his blindness, the Samurai's instincts took over, honed through years of relentless kenjutsu training. He lifted Kubikiribocho in a desperate block, the massive blade rising just in time to intercept the incoming strike, his grip firm despite his disorientation.
The sound of the butcher knife-like Kubikiribocho splitting was almost as loud as the earlier explosion, the massive blade shattering in half under the force of Darui's strike. The Samurai behind it let out a strangled gasp as the blade continued through his armor, cutting deep into his shoulder and lodging in the bone with a sickening crunch. Blood gushed from the wound, painting the silver plates of his armor crimson as he collapsed, blind and defeated before he even realized what had happened.
"Got it!" Darui yanked his sword free, flicking the blood off with a sharp motion before planting his stance defensively. He shot a quick glance at Shee. "Nice setup."
Shee grinned. "Don't get cocky yet. Five more to go."
"That's what I'm talking about!" Ei's booming laugh echoed through the hall, his strikes against Mifune growing fiercer. The Raikage pressed his advantage with unrelenting aggression, his massive form surging forward like a living lightning storm. "This is the might of Kumogakure! Let's see how long you can keep up, Shogun!"
Mifune, however, remained unfazed, his face a mask of calm resolve as he sidestepped Ei's crushing blows. His twin blades moved like liquid lightning, cutting precise arcs that forced the Raikage to adjust mid-strike. "Arrogance is unbecoming in battle," Mifune said, his voice level despite the storm around them. "A true warrior tempers strength with discipline."
"Discipline won't save you from this!" Ei roared, pivoting with a sudden burst of speed. His fist came crashing down like a hammer, but Mifune was already moving, slipping past the strike with a flash of Kiba that sent a bolt of lightning across Ei's vambrace. The Raikage grinned, unfazed by the counterattack, his aura flaring brighter.
Amid the chaos, Hinata's sharp gaze darted between the combatants, her Nichiren Byakugan picking up the faintest irregularities. Her instincts screamed that something was wrong. The way Kubikiribocho had shattered under Darui's blade… it didn't add up. These were legendary weapons, artifacts that had withstood centuries of battle. They weren't supposed to break so easily.
She glanced at the remaining swords and the Samurai wielding them. The tall man with Hiramekarei stood in perfect readiness, his grip firm on the double-handled weapon. Behind him, the Samurai wielding Shibuki prepared an explosive attack, his movements measured and deliberate.
"Something's off," Hinata muttered under her breath, her attention zeroing in on the faint chakra patterns in the swords themselves. "These swords shouldn't be this fragile."
Tayuya, facing off against the bald Samurai with Nuibari, barked a laugh. "Who cares? Less work for us if they fall apart."
Hinata frowned, still uneasy. "No… I don't think it's that simple. Be careful."
"Can you afford to be distracted?" Urakaku's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, as his pride as a Samurai dictated that he would not strike an inattentive opponent. His tone was steady, but the chakra surrounding Hiramekarei surged, reshaping the blade into a massive, glowing mallet. The sheer weight of the chakra-coated weapon distorted the air around it as he swung down with the intent to crush her entirely.
Hinata turned, the bloom of her Nichiren Byakugan illuminating her determination just in time. "Shugohakke!" she called, her movements fluid yet forceful. Her hands traced intricate arcs in the air, leaving behind a lattice of glowing chakra streaks that expanded like an intricate web of silk. The massive chakra mallet collided with her defensive formation, sending shockwaves rippling through the underground hall as the two forces canceled each other out in an explosive burst of light and energy.
The reprieve was short-lived.
A blur of silver and steel streaked toward her from behind. The armored Samurai wielding Shibuki charged with relentless precision, his blade raised high, seeking to catch her off guard. He underestimated the nearly three-hundred-sixty-degree vision of her Byakugan. Without turning, Hinata twisted her body with graceful precision, the attack grazing past her harmlessly. Her sidestep was so perfectly timed that her long hair barely shifted in the rush of air from the sword's descent.
Shibuki struck the ground where she had been, triggering an eruption of deafening violence. The explosion sent chunks of stone and fire cascading into the air, the force of it rippling across the bunker and rattling the walls. Hinata's feet found purchase just outside the blast radius, her chakra reinforcing her stance as fragments of debris whizzed past her like shrapnel. As the smoke cleared, she could see the long scroll attached to Shibuki unfurl slightly, revealing rows of glinting explosive tags, primed for more destruction.
Her opponents had chosen weapons that didn't rely on direct strikes—tools designed to exploit her strength and neutralize her ability to counterattack. Urakaku's Hiramekarei could shift forms, conjuring lethal constructs of chakra, while Shibuki's explosions rendered distance irrelevant.
They might not have known the exact method she had used to destroy Samehada, but it was clear they understood one crucial detail: allowing her to come into direct contact with their blades would be a grave mistake. Both Hiramekarei and Shibuki were being wielded with strategies designed to maintain distance and overwhelm her with wide-reaching attacks. These Samurai were no fools; their tactics reflected a calculated respect for her abilities, even as they sought to neutralize her completely. They had no intention of giving her the chance to get close enough to repeat that feat.
The sound of boots scraping against shattered concrete brought her attention forward as Urakaku lunged again, his mallet now reshaping into a double-headed battle axe, its edges glowing white-hot with energy. Behind her, the second Samurai advanced, reeling back for another devastating explosion. The coordination between the two was seamless, their strikes leaving her no room to breathe.
How had Darui managed to cut through Kubikiribōchō so effortlessly? The Seven Swords of the Bloody Mist weren't ordinary weapons; they were legends, forged with abilities that defied logic and durability that surpassed comprehension. Just because she had broken one sword didn't mean the others would yield as easily. Hinata knew that well—perhaps better than anyone else on this battlefield.
The thought gnawed at her, distracting her even as the chaos of battle raged around her. Her Nichiren Byakugan's enhanced vision honed in on the so-called broken blade. She tracked the blood that had pooled around the fallen Samurai's body, noticing something strange—a movement, subtle but undeniable.
Something was wrong—terribly wrong. As if alive, the blade began to drink the crimson liquid seeping across the cracked stone floor, absorbing it with an almost sinister intent. Before her enhanced vision, the fractured sword slowly began to mend itself, the jagged edges knitting back together until the weapon looked as if it had never been damaged at all.
It wasn't broken—it was designed to split.
Hinata's pulse quickened. A blade like that wasn't something that could be shattered by sheer strength or precision alone, no matter how skilled its opponent. Yet Darui, unaware of this horrifying revelation, charged ahead, his confidence falsely bolstered by what he believed to be his victory over the first Samurai.
"Darui-san, wait—!" Hinata shouted, her voice desperate.
But the call came too late. Urakaku's Hiramekarei transformed mid-swing, elongating into a sleek, gleaming longsword that lashed out toward Hinata. She barely managed to drop to the ground, the blade whistling inches above her head before slamming into the stone wall with a crack that reverberated down the hall. The next attack came immediately, the wielder of Shibuki closing the distance and swinging the explosive blade down at her with deadly precision. Forced to roll aside, Hinata could only watch helplessly as Darui reached the next Samurai.
Darui, oblivious to the danger, brought his blade forward in a powerful horizontal slash aimed at the Samurai wielding Kabutowari. Their weapons met with a deafening clang, the ax of the legendary weapon halting his broadsword in a stalemate. Sparks flew from the clash, the air around them vibrating from the raw force of the strike.
"Seems your sword isn't as dull as the last one," Darui muttered through gritted teeth, doubling down as lightning chakra surged along his blade. Yet no matter how much power he poured into the strike, Kabutowari didn't budge.
"Perhaps not," the Samurai replied, his voice distorted through the respirator of his horned helmet, "but yours is about to be."
Before Darui could react, the Samurai raised the hammer half of Kabutowari in his other hand and brought it down with precision onto the anvil-like back of the ax. The force was catastrophic. A burst of chakra-enhanced power surged through the weapon, transferring into the ax and into Darui's broadsword.
The effect was immediate. The blade split cleanly in two as if it were made of glass, the ax's edge slicing straight through the metal and continuing into Darui's torso. Blood erupted from the wound, a crimson arc painting the air as the ax cleaved through him.
"Darui!" Ei's voice boomed across the hall, filled with disbelief and rage. Shee's cry followed close behind, his hands already moving in a desperate attempt to form healing seals.
Darui staggered, his body trembling as he collapsed to the ground, his broken blade clattering beside him. The Samurai stood tall, unshaken, his armor now splattered with the blood of one of Kumogakure's finest. The man who had wielded not only the Sandaime Raikage's black lightning but also one of the most revered Kekkei Genkai in the village—fallen in a single exchange.
It was unthinkable.
Ei's rage was palpable, the electric aura around his body flaring wildly like a storm barely contained. He gritted his teeth, fists clenched so tightly the golden vambraces of his armor creaked under the strain. To him, Darui wasn't just a subordinate—he was a man with the potential to lead Kumogakure into its next era. The fact that he had been cut down here, by what Ei had assumed to be a mere Samurai, was a blow to both his pride and his faith in their victory.
Hinata's stomach churned. It wasn't Darui's arrogance that had brought him down—it was his ignorance. He had underestimated the Seven Swords, unaware of their terrifying, almost mythical capabilities. This was the true reason the Swords of the Bloody Mist had been feared for generations, why their wielders had become legends.
The armored samurai raised the ax high above his head, the blade gleaming ominously under the flickering light of the battlefield. It was a killing stroke, aimed directly at Darui, who lay vulnerable and bloodied on the ground. The tension in the air crackled as the weapon began its deadly descent.
"Get away from him!" Ei bellowed, his voice a roar that carried over the chaos. Disengaging from Mifune in a flash of lightning, he surged across the battlefield like a storm unleashed, reaching Darui just as the next blow from the samurai's ax swung toward him. With a precision born of countless battles, Ei snatched Darui from harm's reach, the ax cleaving through empty air as he vanished in a crackle of energy.
The Raikage reappeared beside Shee, laying Darui gently on the ground, his movements uncharacteristically tender for a man of his size and strength. "Heal him now!" he barked, his voice carrying the force of a command that could not be denied.
"At once!" Shee responded immediately, his hands glowing with green chakra as he knelt beside Darui, already working to stem the bleeding and close the deep gash in his comrade's abdomen.
"I'm sorry, boss," Darui rasped, blood staining his lips as he tried to speak. His voice was weak, yet his determination remained steadfast. "Just leave me. You can't fight them and defend me at the same time."
"Be quiet!" Ei snapped, the sheer intensity of his words enough to silence even the battlefield around them for a moment. He straightened, his massive frame bristling with lightning as his armor flared brighter, larger. "I won't let any of my comrades fall here. Not while I still have my pride as the Raikage."
The words carried weight, not just to Shee and Darui but to all who could hear them. Ei turned back toward the two samurai who stood ready, their weapons gleaming with lethal intent.
"We would lose our pride as Samurai if you thought you could take both of us at once," Mifune declared, his voice calm yet unwavering. The twin lightning blades, Kiba, hummed with energy as he shifted his stance, the light reflecting off his armor. Beside him, the samurai wielding the ax and hammer prepared himself, the weapons raised in a perfect synchronicity that betrayed years of training and discipline.
Ei said nothing in return. Instead, he stalked forward, each step echoing like thunder in the cavernous hall. The air around him crackled with energy, the sheer voltage radiating off him enough to scorch the ground beneath his feet. His Lightning Armor grew fiercer, arcs of electricity snapping out like whips, daring anyone to approach.
In a blur of movement, Ei closed the distance between them. His massive fist swung in a devastating haymaker aimed directly at Mifune. The samurai was ready, Kiba flashing as he intercepted the blow, the clash sending a deafening shockwave rippling through the air. Sparks flew as lightning met lightning, neither side giving an inch.
At the same time, the armored samurai with the ax lunged forward, his strike aimed to take Ei from the side. With barely a glance, Ei brought up his other vambrace to block, the ax bouncing off with a metallic clang. But before he could retaliate, the samurai's hammer was already swinging down, aiming for the back of the ax to drive it through Ei's defense.
Snarling, Ei surged backward, putting distance between himself and the coordinated pair. Yet Mifune was relentless, closing the gap in an instant with a flurry of strikes, his twin blades a blur of motion. Ei blocked and countered, but the combination of Mifune's speed and the second samurai's relentless teamwork kept him on the defensive.
One-on-one, Ei had matched Mifune blow for blow, their battle an even contest of raw power versus skill. But now, with the hammer-and-ax wielder assisting Mifune, the balance had shifted. The Raikage found himself pressed back, the Samurai moving with a precision and unity that threatened to overwhelm even his immense strength.
The ground beneath their feet cracked and splintered under the force of their strikes, shards of concrete flying as the battle raged on. Ei's Lightning Armor surged brighter, his fury growing with each exchange. But even so, the challenge was clear—this was no ordinary fight, and the Samurai were proving themselves to be as formidable as their reputation suggested.
Tayuya crouched low, her fingers brushing against the fractured ground beneath her as she locked eyes with Okisuke. Her breath came in short bursts, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she sized him up. The wire attached to Nuibari hummed faintly, vibrating with tension as he spun the needle-like blade in wide arcs. It was mesmerizing and lethal, the blur of the weapon a deadly fan that sliced through the air with terrifying precision.
"I thought you Samurai liked to fight up close?!" Tayuya barked, darting to the side as the needle lanced through the air, aimed straight for her heart. She twisted mid-dodge, the blade whizzing past her cheek, so close it left a faint, icy sting.
"And expose myself to your fists again?" Okisuke replied, his voice calm yet edged with tension. His sharp gaze flicked briefly to the numerous craters that marred the ground, each one a testament to the raw power of her strikes. "I think not." He yanked on the wire, the sword snapping back into his hand with a practiced ease. His smirk carried an air of superiority, but Tayuya caught the faint flicker of caution in his eyes.
"Keep running, coward!" she taunted, raising her fists and stepping forward. Her stance was solid, her body coiled like a spring ready to explode. "You can't stay away from me forever."
Okisuke didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he began spinning Nuibari faster, the wire a shimmering blur as it built momentum. With a flick of his wrist, the blade shot forward again, this time angling for her throat. Tayuya twisted low, her muscles screaming with the effort, the blade slicing through where her neck had been moments before. It was a relentless dance of evasion, her every move dictated by the precise, almost mechanical rhythm of Okisuke's attacks.
She gritted her teeth. This wasn't going to work. If she stayed on the defensive, the battle would stretch on, giving the Samurai more time to overwhelm her allies. She needed to break the stalemate. Now.
"Two can play that game, asshole!" Tayuya yelled, planting her feet with defiant resolve. She thrust her chest forward, and from the center of her torso erupted an adamantine chain, gleaming with chakra so intensely it seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. The chain shot out in a sharp arc, its surface shimmering as though forged from molten metal, alive with power. It streaked toward Nuibari like a predator locking onto its prey, intercepting the needle mid-flight in a clash that sent sparks flying in all directions.
The chain and Nuibari became entangled in a chaotic, twisting struggle. Each movement of the needle sent ripples along the chain, but the adamantine bonds held firm, wrapping tighter around the blade with every second. The legendary wire of Nuibari, said to be unbreakable and able to pierce through entire platoons in a single strike, began to strain against the chains that had once bound the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox itself. The air between them crackled with tension, as though the very concept of unbreakability was being put to the test.
"What are you hoping to accomplish?" Okisuke barked, his voice cracking with disbelief. His grip on the wire tightened as he yanked it with all his might, the sword trembling in a futile attempt to escape the Uzumaki chains. "These blades were crafted to last beyond lifetimes—your pathetic chain can't—"
"Pathetic?" Tayuya's sharp grin sliced through his words like a blade. "Let's see which is stronger: your stupid toothpick or my Uzumaki adamantine chains!" Her hands shot to the length of chain emerging from her body, her muscles flexing as she planted her feet firmly on the fractured ground. With a guttural roar, she heaved with every ounce of strength she possessed, chakra coursing through her in waves as she pulled against Okisuke.
The wire vibrated violently, the tension between them mounting like a drawn bowstring nearing its breaking point. Okisuke staggered, bracing himself as the pull nearly ripped the sword from his grip. The air between them was electric, the crackle of their opposing energies echoing through the cavernous hall. Sparks flew as the chain and sword ground against one another in a brutal tug-of-war.
The legends of the Uzumaki adamantine chains flashed through Tayuya's mind, spurring her forward. These were not ordinary constructs of chakra—no, these chains were of a mystic lineage, said to have been forged by the Uzumaki clan's founders with alien metal brought to their planet by a meteor. Once used to bind even the most fearsome of tailed beasts, they were unyielding and absolute, capable of holding the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox in place when all else had failed. To the Uzumaki, they were more than weapons; they were the very embodiment of their unshakable will. And today, they would prove their worth against the vaunted Nuibari.
Tayuya surged forward, closing the distance in an instant, the chain dragging her toward the needle-like blade in a blur of motion. Okisuke's confidence faltered as her wild momentum caught him off guard. The needle strained under the tightening grip of the chains, its legendary strength meeting an immovable force.
"This is how you break a sword!" Tayuya roared, raising her fist high, chakra surging through her arm in tandem with the Doki spirits sealed inside her. The ground beneath her buckled and cracked as she slammed her fist down onto the tangled mass of chain and blade. The impact reverberated through the chamber like a thunderclap, sending a shockwave rippling outward. Dust and debris erupted from the point of collision, obscuring both combatants in a swirling cloud.
The adamantine chain constricted further, grinding against Nuibari's surface with a sound that sent shivers down the spine. Sparks danced like fireflies, and for a brief moment, it seemed as though the sword might hold. The legendary blade, tempered through countless battles, had been crafted to endure what no other weapon could.
Then came the first crack.
It was faint, a sharp ping that echoed through the hall like a death knell. Fissures began to spiderweb across Nuibari's surface, its perfect symmetry warping under the relentless pressure. Another crack followed, then another, each one louder than the last as the blade bent and twisted, unable to withstand the chains' merciless grip.
With a deafening shatter, Nuibari exploded into fragments, shards of the once-mighty blade scattering across the ground like fallen stars. The wire recoiled, lifeless and limp, as the sword's defeat became undeniable.
"Impossible!" Okisuke gasped, his single eye wide with disbelief. He staggered back, clutching the now useless wire of the weapon as if hoping to will it back to life. The weight of what had just occurred settled over him like a crushing tide. One of the Seven Swords of the Bloody Mist, legendary and unbroken for centuries, had been reduced to nothing more than shattered steel.
Tayuya didn't give him time to process the loss. With a fierce battle cry, she lunged forward, her fist trailing sparks of chakra as it collided with Okisuke's gut. The impact was bone-crushing, the sheer force sending him flying across the hall. He slammed into the stone wall with an earth-shaking crash, his body sinking into the fractured surface. Blood trickled from his lips as his consciousness faded, his body hanging limp in defeat.
Tayuya stood tall, her breath ragged but her gaze fierce. Her chains retracted back into her body, their gleam fading as the dust settled around her. "Told you not to underestimate me," she muttered, cracking her knuckles as if to summon her next opponent.
The Samurai wielding Kabutowari, the dual ax-and-hammer combination, paused. His gaze flicked to the shattered fragments of Nuibari scattered across the floor, then to Okisuke's limp form embedded in the wall. Rage rippled through him like an earthquake.
"Okisuke was beaten?!" he shouted, disbelief and fury blending into a battle cry that echoed across the bunker.
"Stay focused," Mifune ordered sharply, his tone unyielding. "If the White Lotus and her allies take another sword, our position will crumble. Deal with her. Now."
The Samurai didn't need to be told twice. With a fierce yell, he turned from the fight with Ei, his heavy footsteps pounding the ground as he barreled toward Tayuya, the ax in his right hand gleaming under the bunker's harsh light. Every step he took radiated a menacing confidence, his form a juggernaut of armor and weapons.
Tayuya turned at the sound of his approach, her sharp eyes narrowing as she assessed the incoming threat. "So you've got a death wish too, huh?" she sneered, summoning another adamantine chain from her abdomen. It burst forth like a striking serpent, coiling toward the Samurai with deadly precision.
The Samurai sidestepped the attack with shocking agility, his heavy armor clanking as he moved. The chain missed its mark, slamming into the ground where he had just been and leaving a small crater. "I won't make the same mistake Okisuke did!" he roared, his voice carrying an edge of disdain as he swung the ax in a devastating downward arc.
Tayuya twisted her body to dodge, but the blade wasn't aimed for her. Instead, it struck her adamantine chain mid-lash, the impact sending a shower of sparks raining down around them. The Samurai didn't stop there. Without hesitation, he followed through with the hammer in his other hand, bringing it crashing down onto the back of the ax with a resounding clang.
The combined force of the hammer-and-ax strike reverberated through the chain, which let out a strained metallic groan before snapping apart with a deafening crack. The severed ends of the chain recoiled violently, whipping through the air like broken tendrils. The Samurai stood tall, his ax and hammer poised for another strike, his glare unrelenting beneath his horned helmet.
Tayuya stumbled back, momentarily stunned. She stared at the broken ends of her chain, the unthinkable reality sinking in. Her Uzumaki adamantine chains—renowned for their unyielding strength, capable of restraining even the Nine-Tailed Fox—had been severed.
The Samurai's voice cut through her shock like a blade. "You Uzumaki talk a lot about your unbreakable chains, but they're nothing in the face of Kabutowari. The ax and hammer together—an unstoppable force."
For the first time, Tayuya's confidence wavered. She tightened her fists, a forced grin spreading across her face as she refused to show weakness. "Guess you're not just all talk after all," she said, her tone sharp but shaky. "Let's see if you can keep up."
Her mind raced as the Samurai charged at her again, his weapons swinging in wide, devastating arcs. His attacks weren't random; every movement was calculated, driving her back and cutting off any chance for a counter. The raw power behind each swing forced her to stay on the defensive, her usual bravado replaced with cold focus.
Tayuya ducked under a horizontal slash, the ax slicing through the air just inches from her head. She rolled to the side as the hammer came down next, striking the ground with enough force to send a tremor through the bunker. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling, the sheer impact cracking the stone floor beneath them.
"Fighting scared already?" the Samurai taunted, stepping forward with relentless determination.
Tayuya snarled, dodging another swing. "Scared? You wish!" She summoned another chain, this time using it to swing herself around a nearby support column. The maneuver gave her just enough space to catch her breath and reassess. Her chains might not be able to overpower his weapons, but that didn't mean she was out of options.
The Samurai paused, raising his hammer to rest it on his shoulder as he observed her movements. "Running won't save you. Kabutowari doesn't just break weapons. It breaks wills." His voice was calm now, almost mocking, as if victory was already his.
"Keep talking," Tayuya shot back, a dangerous edge creeping into her tone. "I'll make you eat those words when I grind your precious toy into dust."
The tension between them reached a fever pitch, the air heavy with the promise of their next clash. Tayuya's fists tightened, and her chakra flared brighter than ever. The Samurai, unyielding, raised his ax for another devastating strike.
Hinata took a sharp breath, her decision made. "First Gate: Gate of Opening—Release!" she cried, her voice steady despite the strain she was about to put on her body.
A rush of chakra burst outward, her body flooding with overwhelming energy as the Gate of Opening unlocked. The transformation was instantaneous—her muscles tensed and rippled under the pressure, tearing at themselves in an excruciating cycle of destruction and restoration. Kali's natural energy surged through her like a balm and a fire all at once, healing the damage as it occurred but not numbing the pain. Each step forward felt like walking a razor's edge, but the added speed and power made it worth the agony.
Hinata couldn't afford to hesitate. The battlefield had thinned just enough to unleash this devastating technique without risking her allies. With her Nichiren Byakugan guiding her, she moved—no, she blurred—into action, her figure barely visible as she tore through the narrow confines of the battlefield like a violet streak of light.
The Samurai wielding Shibuki and Hiramekarei reacted instantly, their movements sharp and deliberate as they swung their weapons in tandem, aiming to intercept her. Explosive tags flared to life as Shibuki's blade swept toward her path, while Hiramekarei, transformed into a massive chakra mallet, came down with devastating force. They assumed she was targeting them, and for a brief moment, they felt assured they could stop her.
But then she shifted, her trajectory veering sharply, slipping between their synchronized strikes like flowing water. Their attacks collided with empty space, shock flashing across their faces as they realized she wasn't coming for them at all. Instead, she followed the invisible guiding line of her Nichiren Byakugan—her true target wasn't their swords, but Kabutowari.
Tayuya had been playing her part perfectly. She led the Samurai wielding Kabutowari—the hammer-and-ax combination—closer to Hinata, her movements calculated despite her brash demeanor. She baited him with every strike, dodging just out of reach and luring him into position.
"When did you—" the Samurai began, his words cut short by Hinata's sudden and impossible speed. He didn't even see her coming until she was already there, standing within his guard. The hammer had yet to be lifted from the ax's anvil when Hinata's finger struck with pinpoint precision, her chakra piercing the natural tenketsu points within the sword itself.
The result was immediate and catastrophic. Kabutowari exploded into a cascade of fragments, the pieces scattering in all directions like shrapnel. The Samurai stumbled backward in shock, disoriented by the sudden loss of his weapon. Before he could regain his balance, Tayuya was there, her fist connecting with devastating force.
The impact caved in his iron helmet, the metal folding inward as though it were paper. The Samurai crumpled to the ground, lifeless before he even hit the floor.
Tayuya grinned savagely, turning to face the two remaining Samurai with Hinata at her side. "Looks like it's three against three now," she said, her voice brimming with confidence. With Kabutowari shattered, only Hiramekarei, Shibuki, and Kiba remained.
Hinata nodded silently, her muscles screaming in protest as the Gate of Opening continued its relentless toll on her body. She could feel the energy coursing through her, raw and unrelenting, and though Kali's influence kept her on her feet, the pain was unceasing. Every movement felt like both a victory and a punishment, her body caught in an endless loop of destruction and regeneration.
The two Samurai holding Hiramekarei and Shibuki hesitated for only a moment before charging, their weapons gleaming with deadly chakra. Tayuya launched herself forward with a battle cry, her chains flaring to life as she aimed to intercept them. Beside her, Hinata pushed past the pain, her Nichiren Byakugan tracking every movement with precision as she prepared for the next clash.
Behind them, Ei and Mifune's battle raged on, the Raikage's golden vambraces clashing against the twin lightning blades of Kiba. Each strike generated a shockwave that roared like thunder, the sound reverberating through the cavernous bunker. Sparks flew as their electric energy collided, neither gaining an edge over the other. They were locked in a fierce stalemate, two titans battling for dominance as the rest of the battlefield descended further into chaos.
"Hey, Shee…" Darui's voice, hoarse and strained, carried over the chaos around them. It was barely more than a rasp, but the determination in it was unmistakable.
"Raikage-sama told you to be quiet, didn't he?" Shee scolded, his hands glowing with the soft green of medical chakra as he poured energy into Darui's battered body. The external wound was sealed, but the damage inside was catastrophic. It was a miracle Darui was even conscious, let alone speaking.
"Sorry, but I need you to do me a favor," Darui said, his hand trembling as he gripped Shee's shoulder. He tried to push himself up but failed, his strength betraying him. "My body's feeling pretty dull. Could you help me up?"
"You'll die if I stop healing you!" Shee's voice rose with disbelief. "You're crazy, Darui. That wound—you're already lucky to still be breathing."
"Just for a minute, no—less than that." Darui forced a weak smile, the pain evident in every movement. "We can't let those Konoha ninja steal all the glory. You think the boss could hold his head high if we just stalled his fight long enough for someone else to finish it for him?"
Shee stared at him, incredulous, before shaking his head with a wry chuckle. "You're nuts, you know that? But…" He glanced at Ei, locked in a stalemate with Mifune, the Raikage's raw strength barely held in check by the Samurai's precision. "You're not wrong. Fine. One moment. Make it count."
Shee's healing chakra faded, and the pain rushed into Darui like a tidal wave. His breath caught, his vision swimming. It would have been easy to give in to unconsciousness, but he bit down hard, forcing himself to focus. His hands trembled as Shee propped him up into a sitting position, his body screaming in protest. Every muscle felt like it was tearing apart.
Through blurred vision, he spotted the Raikage. Ei's lightning armor blazed bright blue, his powerful strikes hammering against Mifune's twin lightning blades. The clash of their energy sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield. The blue sparks were like a beacon, grounding Darui in his purpose.
"Show him the true strength of Kumogakure, boss," Darui whispered, his hands moving through a series of seals with deliberate, painstaking precision. His fingers felt heavy, his chakra sluggish, but he wouldn't stop.
"Kuroi Kaminari!" Darui roared, summoning every ounce of strength he had left. His hands thrust forward, releasing a bolt of jet-black lightning. The dark energy crackled through the air like a living serpent, its malevolent power both mesmerizing and foreboding. It wasn't aimed at the enemy but at Ei himself.
The black lightning struck Ei's armor, merging with it seamlessly. The blue aura transformed into a dense, inky black that pulsed with ominous energy. The battlefield seemed to dim around him, the sheer intensity of the black lightning armor swallowing the light. It wasn't simply stronger than the original—there was something dangerous, almost feral, about its presence.
"Darui…" Ei's eyes flicked toward his subordinate, his surprised expression softening into a smirk of pure confidence. "As expected of my right hand!"
Reinvigorated, Ei surged forward with renewed ferocity. His arm came down in a devastating chop, the black lightning trailing behind it like a shadowy blade. Mifune's twin lightning blades moved in a blur, deflecting the strike just in time. The sheer power of Ei's attack sent vibrations through the air, cracks spiderwebbing across the ground from the impact.
Mifune's jaw tightened, his precision unmatched as he redirected Ei's overwhelming strength away from himself. The clash between Samurai and Raikage was no longer evenly matched. Ei, clad in black lightning, exuded a raw, untamed energy that pushed Mifune closer to his limit with every strike.
"I can tell this black lightning is different." Mifune's voice was steady, his movements even steadier, the twin lightning blades a blur of motion. He aimed for the Raikage's vitals with pinpoint precision, each strike calculated to pierce through the gaps in Ei's defense. But to his astonishment, even Kiba—blades imbued with their own potent lightning aura—couldn't cut through Ei's armor. The Raikage's black lightning flared, deflecting each thrust and swipe with ease. "Foul in nature and perhaps more powerful, but all that power means nothing in the hands of a wild boar." Despite his words, Mifune's grip on the blades tightened.
He couldn't ignore the sense that something had shifted.
Ei grinned, his teeth bared like a predator's. "Don't be so sure about that!" he bellowed, charging forward with unrelenting ferocity. The ground beneath him cracked and cratered under his raw power. In a blur of motion, his massive hands shot out and gripped the twin blades of Kiba by their edges. The room filled with the sharp, high-pitched screech of lightning meeting lightning as Ei held the legendary swords in his ironclad grip.
For a brief moment, Mifune hesitated. Even with all his experience, the audacity of the move was staggering. "What are you plotting, Raikage!?" he demanded, pulling hard to free the swords. They didn't budge. The black lightning enveloping Ei's hands acted like a protective shroud, keeping the edges of Kiba from slicing through his fingers. It shouldn't have been possible.
Mifune narrowed his eyes. "Very well, if you won't release them…" Channeling his chakra, he pushed a concentrated surge of lightning into the swords, amplifying their aura. The twin blades shimmered with an electric-blue brilliance, sharp and vibrant, as Mifune sought to overpower the Raikage's grip. The room became a battlefield of clashing energy, the blue lightning of the Kiba blades meeting the consuming darkness of Ei's black lightning.
Bolts snapped and hissed, carving into the walls and floor. The air crackled with tension, the ozone thick enough to taste.
The lightning around Kiba began to waver. The black lightning, dense and oppressive, started swallowing the blue aura inch by inch, like a predator enveloping its prey. Mifune's lips thinned. "What are you trying to achieve?" he asked again, his voice calm despite the chaos. "Do you think corrupting these swords with your lightning will stop me? You'll only strengthen them further."
Ei's grin didn't falter, even as blood began to seep from his fingertips, dripping onto the blade. "Ninja don't just reveal their tricks. Surprise is victory!" he growled, his voice tinged with strain. His arms trembled, veins bulging as he forced more power into the black lightning. The blood vessels in his arms began to burst, painting his skin red. His breathing grew ragged, but he refused to let go.
The Black Lightning was not without its price. A cursed technique passed down since the days of the Sage of Six Paths, it was a power so immense that few could wield it without succumbing to its destructive side effects. For Ei, the curse manifested as tearing muscle fibers, rupturing vessels, and unbearable internal strain. Every second he held onto Kiba brought him closer to collapse. He knew he couldn't last much longer.
But his gamble wasn't on himself.
If the black lightning could destroy him, couldn't it also destroy the swords?
The blades of Kiba were almost completely covered in black lightning now, the blue aura barely visible as it was crushed under Ei's power. Sparks flew wildly, and the oppressive weight of the clashing energy made it hard to breathe. Just as doubt began to creep into Ei's mind, he heard it—a faint hissing sound, sharp and insidious.
Smoke began rising from the swords, pouring out from the cracks in their metal. Ei's fingers burned against the heat, his grip faltering as the hissing grew louder.
"This… this can't be!" Mifune's eyes widened as the pristine steel of Kiba began to tarnish, the surface corroding and rusting before his eyes. The once-glorious twin blades of lightning were crumbling, their legendary durability failing them for the first time in centuries.
With a final, deafening crack, Kiba shattered in Ei's hands, fragments scattering across the battlefield like shards of a broken dream.
For a moment, there was only silence.
"Now there are only three swords left," Ei rasped, his voice barely audible over the ringing in his ears. His body shook from the strain, his knees threatening to buckle. But he wasn't done. He lunged forward, his massive hands snapping out to grab Mifune by the neck.
The Shogun's composure finally cracked, his eyes widening as Ei's grip tightened. The black lightning armor flickered, fading as Ei's strength began to wane, but he held on long enough to lift Mifune off the ground.
"No!" Mifune choked out, his voice a desperate rasp. But there was no mercy in Ei's eyes.
With a sickening snap, the Shogun's body went limp. Ei let him fall, the once-proud leader of the Samurai crumpling lifelessly to the floor.
Ei collapsed to his knees beside him, his black lightning armor dissipating entirely. Blood streamed from his arms and chest, pooling beneath him. He grinned through the pain, triumphant even as his body betrayed him.
"The Raikage of Kumogakure doesn't bow to anyone," he muttered, his vision swimming. He refused to fall entirely. Not yet. Not until this fight was over.
The Samurai with Shibuki stumbled back, his voice cracking with desperation. "Even Mifune-sama—!"
Tayuya snarled as she lunged forward, her adamantine chains whipping out toward the Samurai. "Keep crying about it, why don't you? Maybe the swords will fix themselves!" Her chains coiled around Shibuki once more, but as soon as they tightened, the explosive tags attached to the blade detonated, blasting the chains loose with concussive force. The recoil sent her skidding back, her feet carving deep gouges in the ground.
"Don't lose heart! We can still win!" Urakaku roared, gripping Hiramekarei tightly, the bandages unraveling with a dramatic flourish to reveal the true twin swords beneath. Blue chakra flared along the shimmering blades, their glow bright enough to light the dim hall. With a fierce yell, he split the sword in two, the twin blades radiating raw energy as if daring anyone to challenge him.
"Tayuya-chan," Hinata called, her voice calm yet resolute amidst the chaos. Without waiting for a response, she pressed her fingers firmly against the tenketsu on her head, her body already bracing for the surge of power. "Second Gate: Gate of Healing—Release!"
The explosion of chakra was immediate, radiating from Hinata like a violet flame. Her Shrine Maiden robes billowed violently in the energy's wake, her dark-blue hair lifting as though caught in a fierce gale. The very air seemed to tremble under the force, her Nichiren Byakugan glowing with a light so intense it cast shadows across the room.
"Leave it to me!" Tayuya shouted, determination etched into her face as she charged forward. Her chakra chains sprang to life, twisting and snapping toward both Samurai with relentless ferocity.
Urakaku sneered, his twin blades slicing through the air with precision. "Don't look down on us!" Blue spikes of chakra erupted from Hiramekarei, each one meeting Tayuya's chains in a clash of light and sound, sending fragments of chakra scattering across the battlefield.
The Samurai with Shibuki slammed his sword into the ground, the scroll of explosive tags unraveling in a deadly cascade. Another explosion rocked the room, the force pushing Tayuya back as debris and smoke filled the air. She coughed, gritting her teeth against the sharp sting of shrapnel cutting into her skin. She didn't have the luxury of retreating—she just needed to buy Hinata a little more time.
"Any time now, Hinata!" Tayuya yelled, releasing another set of chains that twisted and danced between the two Samurai, keeping them occupied.
Hinata's voice was clear and unwavering as she whispered, "Byakuren: Some no Mai."
The transformation was instantaneous. Hinata's movements became a seamless dance, her steps fluid and precise, each one radiating an almost divine energy. As she spun forward, chakra burst from her palms, each strike glowing with the intensity of a burning star.
The first blow landed on Hiramekarei, its twin blades vibrating violently under the force. Chakra surged through the weapon, disrupting the Samurai's grip as cracks began to form along the blade's shimmering surface.
The second strike targeted the hilt of Shibuki, the chakra tags unraveling in a flicker of sparks as their energy sputtered. The Samurai wielding it gasped, his hold faltering as Hinata moved with unrelenting speed.
Her third strike came a split second later, crashing into the midsection of Hiramekarei with a resonating force that split the twin blades further. Urakaku stumbled back, his confidence wavering as the weapon's legendary power crumbled in his hands.
The fourth strike was a precise, upward thrust into Shibuki's core. The scroll detonated prematurely, the explosion fizzling into harmless sparks as the internal chakra network was entirely severed. The Samurai cried out in dismay, his weapon no longer a source of power but a useless hunk of metal.
The fifth strike struck Hiramekarei's handle directly, the twin swords snapping apart with a loud crack. The shards of the once-mystical weapon scattered to the ground, leaving Urakaku stunned and defenseless.
Her sixth blow landed on Shibuki's edge, its weakened frame shattering entirely. The scroll and remnants of the sword clattered to the ground, reduced to nothing more than splinters and fragments. The Samurai holding it fell to his knees, disbelief etched into his features.
Hinata's seventh strike was the most precise yet, delivered with a spinning motion that generated an arc of chakra. The energy cleaved through both broken weapons simultaneously, ensuring no fragments could be salvaged. The glowing arcs of her strikes lingered in the air like trails of light, adding a surreal beauty to the destruction.
The eighth and final strike came as a twin-palm thrust, directed at the Samurai themselves. The chakra that had been sustaining their resilience was severed in an instant, sending both of them sprawling backward. The sound of the impact echoed through the cavernous hall, the force strong enough to leave indents in the ground where the Samurai landed.
Hinata's dance came to an end, her final step placing her between the two Samurai. The air around her shimmered with residual chakra, the faint image of a glowing white lotus blooming behind her—a testament to the power of her Nichiren Byakugan and the strength of her resolve.
"N-No way…" Urakaku muttered, his voice barely audible. His face had gone pale, his lips quivering as the realization of their defeat sank in. He and the other Samurai struggled to their knees, but there was no fight left in them. Just despair.
"Should we just put them out of their misery?" Tayuya asked, her voice dripping with disdain as she glared down at the defeated Samurai. Her hands were clenched into fists, her chakra chains slowly retracting back into her body with a metallic clink. To her, the two fallen men looked like worms groveling in the dirt, their shattered pride strewn around them alongside the broken remnants of their legendary swords.
Hinata shook her head, her expression calm but resolute. "There's no need," she said, her voice steady despite the exhaustion in her body. "For now, let's check on the others and then head above ground," her Byakugan had been monitoring the entire battlefield, and she already had a clear picture of their condition. Darui's grievous wound and the toll the black lightning had taken on the Raikage made it unlikely either of them could continue fighting. She doubted Shee would leave their side, either.
The faint sounds of battle echoed faintly from above the hall, but here, in the immediate aftermath of their skirmish, the air felt heavy with an uneasy calm. As Hinata began making her way toward the Kumonin, her steps faltered, and her Byakugan sharpened instinctively.
The Samurai that Darui had wounded earlier was rising to his feet. His arm, the one Darui had nearly severed at the shoulder, dangled uselessly at first, only to lift Kubikiribōchō in a firm grip moments later. It shouldn't have been possible—not with the bone shattered, the muscle torn beyond use. Yet here he stood, the massive blade held steady as if his injury had never happened.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," Tayuya muttered, stepping into a protective position beside Hinata. Her voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it, the tension in the air beginning to coil around them. "If you're still ready to fight with that arm, we'll be your opponents." Her tone carried no hesitation, but her sharp eyes flickered toward Hinata, silently questioning the sight before them.
Hinata's gaze didn't waver as she focused on the Samurai. The impossible was staring back at her—how could a man so gravely wounded stand, let alone wield a blade of such immense size? The segmented silver armor that encased his body was smeared with blood, but there was no sign of pain in the way he moved. His helmet, adorned with demon-like horns, cast a shadow over his mask-like faceplate, his glowing yellow eyes fixed on them with unsettling intensity.
The Samurai were known for their pride, for their unshakable resolve even in the face of death. Was this what they had heard whispered in rumors across the lands? That a Samurai's sheer willpower could defy the impossible? It was almost believable—if not for the unnatural quality of his movements, like a puppet straining against its strings.
"Tayuya-chan, leave this one to me," Hinata said softly, her voice measured but resolute. She took a step forward, assuming the graceful yet deadly stance of the Gentle Fist. If this man would put his pride on the line for one final stand, she would honor him with her own skill.
"…You got it," Tayuya replied after a moment, stepping back with a grudging nod. Despite her fiery personality, she recognized this as a duel of honor, one that belonged to Hinata alone.
Hinata gave a brief nod of thanks before turning her full attention to the Samurai. His armor gleamed dully under the faint light that filtered through the fractured ceiling of the hall, the worn but formidable metal giving him the appearance of an unyielding fortress. The respirator mask covering his lower face emitted a faint mechanical hiss with every breath, like the steady rhythm of a machine. Those glowing yellow eyes, devoid of emotion, locked onto her with a quiet intensity that felt less like determination and more like something else entirely—something unnatural.
"If you will name yourself, now is the time," Hinata said, her voice clear yet respectful, granting him the final courtesy of announcing his name before their fight. The Raikage had cut the others short, but she felt compelled to honor this man's resolve, no matter how strange or unsettling his presence felt.
The nameless samurai didn't speak. Instead, he moved with a deliberate slowness that seemed to heighten the tension in the air, his actions ominous and wrong. With his broken arm—a limb that should have been incapable of bearing any weight, let alone the immense butcher knife-like Kubikiribōchō—he raised the massive sword high above his head.
Hinata and Tayuya watched in stunned silence as the grotesque scene unfolded. The samurai positioned the blade so that the large circular hole in its center framed his helmeted head. For a fleeting moment, it seemed almost ceremonial, as though he were preparing for some macabre rite.
Then, without hesitation, he brought the blade down in a single, decisive swing. The wet sound of metal cleaving through flesh and bone echoed sharply, a brutal, sickening crack that silenced even the distant clamor of the battlefield.
His head tumbled from his shoulders, the massive blade cleaving through with eerie precision. The helmet struck the ground first, landing with a dull, metallic thud. As it hit, the severed head bounced free from within, rolling grotesquely across the blood-soaked floor until it disappeared into the shadows. The helmet, however, remained eerily still, resting upright in the expanding pool of blood as though it had rooted itself in place, waiting.
"What the fu—?!" Tayuya gasped, staggering back as a geyser of blood erupted from the stump of his neck. The crimson fountain arced high into the air, an impossible torrent that sprayed across the cavern, painting the walls and ceiling in streaks of gore. The blood rained down in a grotesque downpour, soaking the silver armor until it gleamed a slick, visceral red.
"This… this isn't seppuku," Hinata whispered, her voice barely audible over the relentless sound of blood splattering onto the stone floor. Her Byakugan flared, scanning the scene with growing unease. Seppuku was an honorable ritual, performed with grace and precision. This was no such act. It was savage, chaotic—a display of something far darker.
And the blood… It just kept coming.
Even with the arterial spray, this was far beyond what any human body could hold. The samurai had already lost a significant amount from Darui's earlier wound. Yet the torrent pouring from his neck stump seemed endless, pooling around him in an ever-expanding circle. Something was deeply, deeply wrong.
Hinata's enhanced vision turned inward, peering past the spectacle to the truth beneath. What she saw made her breath catch in her throat. The Kubikiribōchō—it was gone. Not discarded, not lying forgotten on the ground. It had fused with the armor, its essence merging into the blood itself. This wasn't the samurai's blood, not truly.
It was the sword.
Hinata's mind raced. The Kubikiribōchō, legendary for its regenerative abilities, repaired itself by absorbing the iron from the blood of its victims. But now, it wasn't merely repairing itself. It was consuming. Transforming.
Her Byakugan traced the eerie process as the crimson tide began to recede. The blood flowed unnaturally, retreating back toward the headless corpse, as though drawn by an unseen force. It writhed and slithered like a living thing, seeping into the armor. The silver plates drank deeply, darkening with every second until they glistened a deep, demonic red.
The helmet, which had fallen to the floor, began to tremble. Blood crawled toward it, creeping like hundreds of tiny, crimson insects. The helmet was dragged upward, as though possessed by an invisible will. It ascended the armor with grotesque fluidity, clicking into place atop the blood-stained shoulders.
The yellow glow of the samurai's eyes was gone, replaced by twin abysses of pitch-black nothingness. The horns of the helmet seemed to lengthen, curling upward like the gnarled antlers of some ancient beast. The whole figure exuded an aura of malevolence, the air around it growing heavier with each passing moment.
The corpse stirred.
At first, it was subtle—fingers twitching, knees bending, shoulders rolling. But soon, the movements became purposeful, deliberate. It raised its arms, clenching and unclenching its fists, inspecting the functionality of its new, horrifying form.
Hinata's Byakugan caught every detail, every unnatural shift. The corpse's muscles were inert, the nerves lifeless. Nothing biological drove its motions. The movements were being orchestrated entirely by the blood.
"Finally…" The voice that emerged was deep, raspy, and raw, as though dragged from the depths of a forgotten abyss. It reverberated unnaturally, seeming to echo not in the air, but within the marrow of her bones.
The sound shouldn't have been possible—its host's head had been severed clean, its voice box removed along with flesh and bone. And yet, the sentient blood spoke, its tone vibrating with an ancient, almost alien cadence. "How long has it been… a thousand years? Perhaps more?"
The entity wasn't speaking to anyone in particular. Its abyssal eyes—black as the void—remained fixed on its own hands, flexing and curling the blood-forged fingers with an eerie fascination, like someone rediscovering a part of themselves long lost. Then its head—if it could be called that—snapped upward, the black voids locking onto Hinata with a predatory precision.
"I have you to thank, don't I?" the voice rasped. "You, who shattered the first sword. You, who began the chain reaction that has finally freed me from my seal."
Hinata's gaze darted to the battlefield around her. The shattered remains of Nuibari, Kabutowari, Shibuki, and Hiramekarei lay scattered like the remnants of some tragic ritual. Kiba was a pile of corroded dust. Samehada, long dead, was buried beneath Konoha. The blood itself—the living remnants of Kubikiribocho—was the only sword left intact, and it had somehow gained sentience.
"Seal…" she echoed, her voice barely audible. The realization hit her like a thunderclap. Hinata's blood ran cold. Her Byakugan revealed no physical muscle or chakra system animating the form before her—only the blood, alive and pulsating, its movements defying all natural law. Even the air around it seemed to bend, heavy and suffocating, laced with an invisible malice that made her stomach churn.
"What are you?" she asked, her voice steady despite the instinctive dread clawing at her chest. Her choice of words wasn't accidental—this thing wasn't human. It exuded a presence that felt older, darker, and infinitely more dangerous than anything she had encountered before. Something primal in her screamed that this was no mere enemy, but an abomination against nature itself.
"You're a sharp one, aren't you?" The blood chuckled, though the sound was more like the groaning of ancient, rusted chains. There was no smile, no visible expression, yet the sheer malevolence in its tone conveyed a sinister amusement. "A perceptive question, but an impolite one. I forgive you, though. After all, You have done me a great service, and I would prefer to leave things as they are. If I have to kill the one who freed me. That would be… unfortunate."
Hinata forced herself to stand firm, swallowing the lump in her throat. "What are you!?" she demanded this time, the words trembling slightly despite her effort to sound resolute.
The oppressive weight in the air thickened, and Hinata felt herself almost buckle under the force of its malice. The blood's movements were deliberate as it flexed its fingers and tilted its helm, a grotesque mimicry of life.
"Very well. If you insist, I shall enlighten you," it rasped. The voice wasn't just in her ears—it vibrated through her very being, each word a nail driven into her resolve.
The blood-dripping armor took a step forward, and the battlefield seemed to darken, the air vibrating with the resonance of its unholy presence. "The Seven Blades were my chains—my body, my flesh, my blood. Weapons forged from my being to imprison me across time."
The ground trembled. Hinata tensed as the being's aura shifted, a crescendo of malice and power building with every word.
"I, who was once called the Demon King, was torn apart and sealed into steel." For a moment, it fell silent. The kind of silence that stretched unbearably, pressing against the mind until it begged for the noise to return—anything to drown out the dread.
And then it spoke again.
"My name is Kijin."
Chapter End
AN: The title of this chapter brought to you by mashing two popular Japanese films together: Godzilla Minus One and Seven Samurai.
The name "Kijin"（鬼人）is taken directly from the Japanese nickname for Hozuki Mangetsu, who was known as the "Second Coming of the Kijin." Or as Kijin is usually translated: Demon. So I just decided to take that literally and make the original an actual demon that was sealed in the swords.