Hinata of the White Lotus

by froznx

On the verge of death in her fight against Neji, Hinata awakens an advanced version of the Byakugan. Now with the power of an ancient ally on her side, she begins to unravel the truth of their world and her place in it. As her powers and confidence continue to grow while facing off against increasingly dangerous foes, she becomes known as The White Lotus. This is her legend.

55. Hinata vs Kijin

Hinata: Byakurenden

Hinata vs Kijin

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"Kijin…?" Hinata repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, the name hanging in the air like a curse. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, remained locked on the creature that loomed before her. It was clad in the battered armor of a samurai, its horned helmet glistening wet with crimson as though freshly forged in blood.

The blood, she realized, was not a residue of its brutality but its essence, its true form. This was no man; it was a sentient force—a nightmare clothed in viscera and metal. The realization settled in her chest like ice, chilling her resolve.

The entity, this Kijin, turned its abyssal gaze to her, the voids where its eyes should have been radiating an unnatural weight.

She had heard the tales, the whispered rumors from the Land of Water. Stories of a warrior called Kijin, the first to master all seven swords—the demon who turned bloodshed into an art form. Yet those were just stories. Legends exaggerated by time.

This… this was something else.

"You don't understand, do you?" Kijin's voice grated against the air, hollow and raw, like the grinding of rusted metal. It was void of inflection, yet it carried weight—a pressure that bore down on her, as if the air itself bent to his presence. "I suppose that's no surprise. After all, your kind was never meant to know my name."

Hinata swallowed hard, steeling herself. She needed to understand what they were facing, what had been unleashed from the remnants of the Seven Swords. "The Kijin I've heard of… he wasn't a demon. Just a man with extraordinary power. The first to wield and master all Seven Swords of the Bloody Mist. Was that… not you?"

The blood seemed to ripple, almost as if laughing without sound. "Ah, the stories men tell. Convenient lies to conceal inconvenient truths." It gestured with one crimson-gauntleted hand, the blood coating its form bubbling and pulsing as if alive. "They would have you believe I was a man. A prodigy of war. A swordsman so skilled that he transcended mortality. But no, Shrine Maiden. What stood before the world as the Kijin was nothing more than a shadow—an echo of my true form."

Kijin tilted its horned head slightly, the motion eerily fluid despite the rigidity of the armor. "Like you, I was born of this world, but I was more than human. Long before your shinobi villages, long before even the first Chakra Fruit was plucked, I walked this land as its sovereign. My name was whispered in reverence and fear alike, and my strength knew no equal—until she came."

Hinata stiffened. "She?"

Kijin's abyssal gaze seemed to narrow, the air around him growing heavier. "Ōtsutsuki Kaguya," it said, the name dripping with loathing. "An alien usurper, one who sought to claim this world as her own. She and her cursed progeny sought to turn the land into their dominion, to harvest it like fruit. And so, we fought."

"You fought Kaguya?" Hinata's voice trembled, her mind reeling. This being claimed to have contended with Kaguya herself, the progenitor of chakra and a power so vast it had once taken the combined strength of her own children to defeat her. "How—why haven't we ever heard of you?"

Kijin let out a low, mirthless chuckle, the sound like the grinding of jagged stones. "Because I lost," it said bluntly, its tone devoid of shame but heavy with something deeper—resentment. "Her power… it was not her own. She was a thief, a parasite, drawing from a source beyond this world. Even so, I nearly killed her. But her desperation was greater than my might, and in the end, I was betrayed—not by her, but by those that once served beneath me."

"Betrayed?" Hinata's breath hitched, her gaze darting to the remnants of the Seven Swords scattered across the battlefield. "The swords… they were your prison?"

Kijin's blood rippled again, its voice lowering to a deadly hush. "Yes. The same cowards who once knelt before me, who called me their protector and king, turned against me. They feared my power as much as they feared her, so they forged the swords—artifacts meant to bind my essence and scatter it across this land, ensuring that I could never rise again."

The pieces began to fall into place in Hinata's mind. The Seven Swords of the Bloody Mist were not just weapons; they were seals, fragments of this being's essence. The legendary power of the swords, the monstrous aura they carried—it wasn't the swords themselves. It was him.

"What are your plans if we let you out of here?" Hinata asked, her voice steady, though tension coiled in her chest. Deep down, she already knew the answer. She wanted to hope—against all reason—that this might not end in bloodshed. It was this part of her, the unwillingness to discard compassion, that had led to her fight with Kali. Yet, even now, she wouldn't change that part of herself for anyone.

"Plans?" Kijin's voice came in that same rasping monotone, though the weight of his words hung heavily in the air. "Let me think…" His abyssal eyes fixed on her, and for a moment, Hinata felt like she might fall into their void-like depths. "First, I'll take care of that upstart spreading her foolish religion. That so-called goddess has played her games for far too long."

Hinata's breath caught. He meant Amaterasu. So even Kijin had a reason to fight against her. For a fleeting second, she wondered: Could this truly be a case of the enemy of my enemy becoming an ally?

"Then…" Kijin continued, his tone sharpening with a quiet, menacing finality. "I will reclaim my rightful place as the ruler of this world."

The hope dissolved like a mirage in the desert heat. No, this wasn't a potential ally. If she allowed Kijin to walk free, she'd merely be trading one megalomaniacal tyrant for another. The blood-drenched demon before her was no better than Amaterasu. Perhaps worse. Letting him loose would solve nothing—just delay the inevitable confrontation and ensure it came with far graver consequences.

A literal deal with the devil, as it were.

"So what, you're not with the samurai then?" Tayuya asked cautiously, her tone sharp but edged with unease. She kept a step behind Hinata, her guard raised, hands trembling faintly in the tension-filled air. The Kumonin, too, had noticed the strange turn of events, their gazes locked onto the sentient armor. Shee's hands were still glowing with healing chakra as he worked on Darui, though his movements had slowed, wary of any sudden escalation. Ei remained standing, his injuries visible in the faint tremor in his posture. His body, riddled with broken vessels from the Black Lightning, looked as though it could give out at any moment.

"On the contrary," Kijin replied, his voice a rasping monotone devoid of any humanity. The unnatural hollowness of it filled the space, turning the silence that followed into something suffocating. "I desire nothing more than their deaths. Speaking of which…"

His head turned with an almost unnatural grace, the abyssal voids of his helmet fixing on the two remaining samurai. Urakaku and the nameless warrior remained on their knees, frozen in despair. They clutched the broken remnants of their swords, their expressions vacant, the weight of their defeat crushing them more thoroughly than any physical blow ever could.

The aura around Kijin shifted.

To most, it would have been imperceptible. But Hinata saw it. Her Nichiren Byakugan revealed the sudden distortion in the natural flow of energy around him, a ripple in the unseen currents that made the air feel heavy and alive with something primal, something wrong. It surged around Kijin's raised fist, the crimson armor amplifying the energy like a vessel, channeling the very essence of the earth into his hand.

"Please wait!" Hinata's voice rang out, urgent and commanding, but she already knew she was too late.

Kijin brought his fist down.

The air cracked with a deafening boom, the force of the impact rippling outward in a shockwave that slammed into the walls. For a split second, nothing seemed to happen. Then, with a grotesque squelch, the bodies of the two samurai collapsed into unrecognizable mounds of flesh and bone, their forms crushed flat into the floor. Blood and viscera splattered in every direction, painting the walls and ceiling with a grotesque mural of red. Chunks of armor were embedded into the stone, the insignias of their station shattered and smeared with gore.

It wasn't just violence—it was obliteration, complete and utter erasure. The brutality of it was amplified by Kijin's casual indifference. His blood-drenched armor didn't so much as flinch as the remains of the samurai soaked the ground in thick crimson that gleamed under the dim light.

Tayuya recoiled, a string of curses spilling from her lips. "What the actual hell?!" she snapped, her voice tinged with horror even as she instinctively positioned herself between Kijin and Hinata.

Hinata, however, stood frozen. Her Byakugan revealed the energy that had formed Kijin's attack—the same energy that had once radiated from Hiramekarei. He hadn't just crushed the samurai; he had replicated the weapon they once wielded, channeling its shape and destructive potential through pure natural energy. It was as if he had absorbed the very essence of the shattered swords into himself, reclaiming the power that had once imprisoned him.

"That is the fate of those who would seek to use my power for their own gain," Kijin intoned, his voice as hollow and unfeeling as before. He didn't look at the mangled remains of the men he had killed, as though they were beneath his notice. Instead, his abyssal eyes remained fixed on Hinata, unreadable yet oppressive in their intensity.

The lack of emotion in his voice, the complete absence of malice or pleasure, made the act all the more chilling. It wasn't rage that drove him to kill—it was simply a matter of course, a reflex as thoughtless as swatting a fly. Yet, the natural energy around him told another story, vibrating with an undeniable force of dominance and contempt.

Hinata's breath hitched. The oppressive weight of his presence pressed against her resolve, a silent warning of what would happen if he was allowed to leave this place. Like Amaterasu, he was a danger not just to those before him, but to the world itself. The twisted reflection of her own duty shone in him—a creature born of power, capable of annihilation with a single thought.

"It seems like you were right," Hinata said, settling into the flowing stance of the gentle fist. Her movements were deliberate, her determination reflected in the glowing white lotus of her Nichiren Byakugan. The lines of energy from the natural world trembled at her resolve. She glanced at Tayuya and the Kumonin, who took her posture as their cue to ready themselves for battle.

"We cannot allow you to pass," Hinata declared, her voice ringing with quiet authority.

Kijin exhaled, his rasping breath somehow echoing as if the air itself recoiled from him. "Humans with a taste for power are all the same, no matter the era," he said, crossing his arms and tilting his head upward. His stance was unnervingly relaxed, as if their resistance was no more than an amusing inconvenience. "Your place is in the dirt, crawling among the roots, incapable of comprehending the heights of divinity. Leave the complexities of ruling to those of us born with the divine right."

It was the most impassioned statement he had made yet, every word dripping with contempt. His voice was calm, but the natural energy around him churned violently, vibrating with an almost palpable disdain for those before him. He stood before them not as an adversary, but as a self-proclaimed sovereign, already assured of his victory.

Hinata's fists clenched tighter, her Byakugan flaring in response. His words didn't just challenge her resolve—they spat on everything she and her allies had fought for.

The others, too, bristled at his declaration. Ei, despite his wounds, growled low in his throat, his body still sparking faintly with residual lightning. Darui, with Shee's support, had pulled himself to his feet, determination etched into his battered features. Tayuya's gray eyes locked on Kijin like a predator sizing up its prey.

Even without fully understanding the weight of Kijin's existence, they could see him for what he was: a harbinger of destruction, one that couldn't be allowed to escape.

Kijin's empty gaze bore down on them, his body tilting forward ever so slightly. "So, the insects would dare challenge the hand that shapes the world?" His tone dripped with derision, but the natural energy around him surged, thrumming with the prelude of violence. "Very well. Let's see how long you can cling to your delusions of resistance before I grind you back into the dirt where you belong."

There was no mistaking it now: the battle had begun.

"Darui! Shee!" Ei roared, his voice thunderous as his blue lightning armor exploded outward, bathing the battlefield in its electric glow. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he vanished in a single clap of thunder, reappearing above Kijin in less than a heartbeat. His right arm was raised high, the vambrace crackling with deadly energy, poised to deliver a crushing blow.

"Raiton: Lightning Illusion Flash!" Shee's hands blurred through seals, unleashing his genjutsu. A blinding flash erupted, robbing Kijin of sight and rendering him vulnerable.

"Ranton: Laser Circus!" Darui's voice was strained but resolute. Even with his injuries, he managed to conjure his Kekkei Genkai, launching a barrage of glowing streams of electricity that snaked through the air with deadly precision, homing in on their target.

Taijutsu, Genjutsu, and Ninjutsu—each executed with expert precision—converged on Kijin in a devastating trifecta of power. Any ordinary opponent would have been obliterated, left with no room to evade or counter. But Kijin was neither ordinary nor human. His very existence defied their understanding of combat and power.

"How utterly boorish," Kijin muttered, almost disinterested. He waved his hand lazily, as though brushing away an insect. With that single motion, Ei's lightning armor vanished, Shee's genjutsu dissipated into nothingness, and Darui's Storm Release dissolved mid-flight. The chakra powering their attacks didn't disperse—it was absorbed into him, vanishing like a drop of water in an ocean. Just as Samehada had been capable of eating chakra, so too could Kijin.

"What—" Ei didn't have time to finish his exclamation. Kijin's hand shot upward, catching Ei's descending vambrace as if it were weightless. The demon's grip didn't just halt the Raikage's momentum—it reversed it entirely.

An explosion erupted from Kijin's palm, the sound deafening as it reverberated through the chamber. The sheer force of the blast rippled outward, warping the air with its intensity. Ei's massive frame was hurled backward like a ragdoll, his body twisting mid-air as though weightless. He collided with the far wall with a bone-shattering impact, the stone cracking and splintering outward in a web-like pattern from where he struck. Dust and debris cascaded down around him as he slumped to the ground, his normally unshakable form now crumpled and unmoving. Blood seeped from fresh wounds, staining the jagged rocks beneath him.

"I'll return this to you," Kijin said coldly, his voice devoid of inflection, almost clinical in its detachment. He raised a single finger, and from its tip shot a bolt of lightning that crackled with eerie familiarity—the unmistakable electric chakra of Kiba, yet tainted with malice.

Darui's battered body twitched as he tried to move, his muscles straining against the pain that tore through him. His arms refused to obey, his legs were too weak to respond, and his chest felt heavy with exhaustion. The lightning struck him before he could even fully react, the energy slamming into his torso with a sharp, sizzling crack. His body arched involuntarily from the force, the searing pain stealing what little breath he had left. He collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, his form limp and lifeless as the faint rise and fall of his chest became the only proof he was still alive.

"Boss! Darui!" Shee cried out, panic tightening his voice as his eyes darted between the two fallen shinobi. The tension in his body was palpable, his hands twitching with the instinct to act. But his hesitation—his moment of indecision—sealed his fate.

The ground beneath Shee groaned ominously, then split open with a sickening crack. From the dark fissures burst a web of glistening red wires, their surface wet and glinting like fresh blood. The tendrils moved with unnatural speed, snaking around Shee's arms and legs before he could even raise a hand to defend himself. They coiled tightly, binding his limbs and neck in a grotesque display of power, yanking him into the air like a marionette on bloody strings.

Shee's muscles bulged against the restraints, his teeth clenched as he struggled in vain to break free. The wires only tightened, their grip unyielding as they dug into his flesh, leaving thin, crimson lines where they cut into his skin. The sharp scent of iron filled the air as the wires pulsed with life, each movement precise and deliberate.

The sight was haunting—Kijin stood motionless, his abyssal eyes fixed on Shee as if admiring his handiwork. The tendrils moved of their own accord, a silent declaration of his dominance. Shee's breathing grew ragged, his voice caught in his throat as the wires wrapped tighter, leaving him suspended in midair like a grotesque effigy.

Each of the three elite shinobi—powerhouses of Kumogakure—lay defeated. Ei lay motionless amidst the rubble, Darui's chest barely rose with shallow breaths, and Shee hung helplessly in Kijin's grasp. The air in the room was thick with tension and the coppery tang of blood, the oppressive weight of Kijin's power pressing down on all who remained. This was no ordinary foe; this was a nightmare made flesh.

"You fight like ants swarming a mountain," Kijin said, his tone calm but dripping with disdain. He lowered his hand, and the wires around Shee were released, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

Hinata's Nichiren Byakugan flared, her vision piercing through the chaotic scene. She saw it clearly now: these techniques weren't just similar to the Seven Swords—they were the swords. The abilities Kijin displayed were no coincidence. They were the original powers from which the Seven Swords of the Bloody Mist had been forged.

Within moments, the greatest power Kumogakure had to offer—its Raikage, his second-in-command, and his trusted medic—lay broken. Each had been struck down with casual, almost dismissive ease. Kijin hadn't even exerted himself.

His abyssal eyes turned back toward Hinata, locking onto her as if he had just decided on his next prey. The battlefield was silent, save for the crackling remnants of dissipating lightning. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the next move.

"Tayuya-chan! Hold him in place!" Hinata shouted, the power of two gates still coursed through her veins, her body thrumming with energy as she prepared her next move. The First Dance of the White Lotus wasn't enough—she would have to unleash its full power in succession, performing the technique eight consecutive times to seal Kijin completely. She had no room for hesitation.

"Leave it to me!" Tayuya called back, her own determination burning just as fiercely. She activated her Sage Mode, her body transforming as horns sprouted from her forehead, sharp and jagged. The natural energy she gathered radiated from her like heat from an open flame, her connection to the Doki spirits amplifying her strength. Without hesitation, she unleashed her strongest adamantine chakra chains, their golden sheen shimmering with raw power.

The chains surged forward, twisting and coiling around Kijin's form like snakes closing in on their prey. They bound him in place, tightening around his arms, legs, and torso, pinning him where he stood. For a moment, it seemed as though they had succeeded. The Uzumaki chains—the legendary binding force that could shatter mystic swords and even restrain the Kyūbi no Yōko—seemed to hold.

But it was only for a moment.

"Please don't waste my time with childish tricks such as this," Kijin said, his voice as flat and unimpressed as if he were brushing off a speck of dust. With a deliberate roll of his shoulders, the adamantine chains—chains forged by the Uzumaki to bind the most fearsome of tailed beasts—shattered. Not with effort or strain, but with the sheer casualness of his motion.

The golden fragments exploded outward like shards of glass catching the sun, cascading across the battlefield in a dazzling, almost cruelly beautiful display. The ground trembled in response, the force of their destruction leaving jagged fissures in the stone beneath Kijin's feet. It was as though the earth itself recoiled at the power on display.

Tayuya staggered back, her breath caught in her throat as her horns trembled, barely able to process what she had just seen. Her eyes darted to the glittering remnants of her chains scattered across the floor, then back to Kijin's crimson form, her disbelief etched onto every line of her face.

"There's no way…" she choked out, her voice shaky and uneven, equal parts shock and fury. "Those chains… They're supposed to be unbreakable! They've bound demons—monsters! Nothing should be able to—"

"And yet," Kijin interrupted, his tone as disinterested as ever, "here we are." He spread his arms wide, as though inviting her to marvel at the aftermath. "If these are the best weapons your kind can muster, I suggest you begin praying now. It would be far less of a waste of your fleeting time." He chuckled darkly, the sound low and menacing.

Then Hinata moved, ever so slightly, and the atmosphere changed. "Third Gate: Gate of Life—Release!" she roared, her voice carrying the sheer force of her resolve. A torrent of chakra erupted from her, blending with the natural energy Kali had funneled into her. The energy swirled around her body like a violent storm, her shrine maiden robes and hair whipping wildly in its wake. Her Byakugan gleamed with intensity, the white lotus blooming in the center of her pupils.

Kijin's abyssal eyes locked onto her, "It would seem that, unlike the others, I cannot underestimate you," he said, raising a hand, his fingers splayed wide as an immense concentration of chakra began to swirl in his palm.

The air itself seemed to distort as he formed a massive chakra hammer, its presence oppressive and overwhelming. But this was no ordinary construct—it was infused with the combined powers of the Seven Swords. Lightning from Kiba crackled across its surface, its edges radiated the destructive force of Shibuki's explosive tags, and the sheer cutting power of Kabutowari coursed through its core. The mallet pulsed with murderous intent, a monstrous fusion of all the swords' abilities into a single, devastating weapon.

Hinata's Byakugan traced the intricate flow of chakra within the hammer, and her heart skipped a beat. The weapon was a manifestation of pure destruction, and its power was aimed directly at her.

"Tayuya-chan!" Hinata called out as she dashed toward her ally. Without hesitation, she grabbed Tayuya by the arm and flung her toward the fallen Kumonin with a strength born of desperation. Tayuya tumbled through the air, her startled expression shifting into one of reluctant understanding. Hinata's intention was clear—she wanted her to stay out of this fight and protect the injured, not rejoin the fray.

"Do you truly have the time to concern yourself with others?" Kijin asked, his tone detached, as though this entire battle was little more than a dull inconvenience. With a flick of his hand, the chakra he had been gathering erupted forth, a colossal wave of destructive energy barreling toward her.

"Yata no Kagami!" Hinata's voice rang out with steely resolve as she activated the sacred power implanted in her left eye. The astral projection of the Yata Mirror shimmered into existence before her, its radiant surface gleaming like a shield of pure light. The chakra hammer collided with it, the impact unleashing an earth-shattering explosion that shook the entire bunker.

The shockwave was devastating. Walls crumbled and debris rained down, the underground bunker collapsing in sections. Tayuya, exactly as Hinata had hoped, scrambled to shield the injured Kumonin with her chakra chains, protecting them from the cascading destruction. It was the last thing Hinata managed to glimpse before the explosion consumed everything in its path, obliterating the very ground beneath her feet.

Hinata barely had time to brace herself before she was hurled through the air like a ragdoll, the sheer force of the impact ripping her from her stance. The roar of the explosion deafened her, and her body spun uncontrollably as the remnants of the bunker fell away.

It took several heart-pounding moments before she registered where she was. High above the chaos, the icy sky stretched out before her, its stark clarity a sharp contrast to the smoke and destruction below. Beneath her, the jagged slope of one of the three mountains loomed closer, its snow-covered surface rapidly approaching. She wasn't falling; she was hurtling toward the mountainside like a meteor.

Summoning what little control she could, Hinata adjusted her trajectory mid-air. With the power of the gates still coursing through her, she landed on the slope in a controlled slide, the icy surface breaking her momentum as she skidded to a halt. Snow sprayed around her, her shrine maiden robes whipping in the biting wind. The sudden cold struck her like a physical blow, the chill seeping into her bones as her breath came out in visible clouds.

She steadied herself, glancing around to assess the situation. The mountain slopes were now an active battlefield, each peak and valley scarred by destruction. To her southeast, the remnants of one mountain were a battleground for four rampaging Bijū, their monstrous forms clashing in a cataclysmic display of raw power. To the southwest, she spotted Itachi, locked in combat with a grotesque, fleshy abomination that writhed and shifted like something torn from a nightmare. In the valley below, Naruto's unmistakable chakra flared as he clashed with yet another Bijū, their battle raging over the shattered remains of the Samurai Fortress.

The devastation was overwhelming. What had once been a carefully coordinated assault had spiraled into utter chaos, with every front escalating beyond anything they could have anticipated. Hinata's resolve wavered as she debated where her strength was needed most. Who should she aid first? Naruto? Itachi?

No—now wasn't the time to waver. She drew in a steady breath, the cold air biting her lungs, and forced her shoulders to relax, though her entire body thrummed with tension. The battlefield around her had splintered, scattered into chaos, but her priority was clear. She had to stop Kijin.

This wasn't just about defeating a dangerous opponent. If Kijin escaped, it wouldn't simply mean more destruction; it could herald the rise of a new calamity, one as catastrophic as Amaterasu herself. His presence felt like an anomaly—a force that couldn't be allowed to exist, a danger to humanity that had to be sealed here and now.

As she resolved herself to finish him, Kijin arrived with an eerie calmness, his footsteps crunching through the frost-dusted debris as if to throw her thoughts back at her. He stopped just down the slope, his crimson armor gleaming under the pale, fractured light filtering through the swirling mist.

"It would seem my impression of you was correct," he said, his voice quiet yet resonant, a dark weight behind every word. His abyssal eyes locked onto hers, unreadable yet somehow piercing. Slowly, almost casually, he spread his arms wide, the bloodstained gauntlets flexing as though testing their strength. "Just as you cannot allow me to leave, I too cannot forgive an existence such as yours. Our clash was inevitable from the start."

Hinata didn't move, didn't speak, her stance softening as she prepared herself—not physically, but mentally. Her breath steadied, her gaze unwavering as her right hand lightly brushed against the hem of her robes, a seemingly insignificant movement that brought her focus into razor-sharp clarity. She shifted her weight, angling herself slightly toward him, her Nichiren Byakugan glowing faintly as it traced his every subtle motion.

Kijin tilted his head, his helmet creaking slightly, as though in curiosity. "Just know," he continued, his tone almost cordial despite the malice it carried, "that you have my gratitude for freeing me from that wretched seal." His gauntleted fingers curled into loose fists before relaxing again, the motion so fluid it seemed almost deliberate, a reminder of his control over the situation. "But I cannot allow someone like you to live."

Hinata closed her eyes briefly, drawing a long, steady breath. When she reopened them, the white lotus of her Nichiren Byakugan bloomed brightly, reflecting her unwavering resolve. "I too am sorry," she said quietly. Her hands came together in front of herself as she gave a deep bow, her ponytail spilling over her shoulder. "For breaking your seal, only to become your enemy."

She straightened, her hands moving purposefully to her next tenketsu point. Her expression shifted, not into confidence, but defiance—a resolute acknowledgment of the odds she faced. Her fingers pressed into the fourth gate, and the air around her began to shift. A visible ripple of energy expanded outward from her body as if the world itself were responding to her call.

"Fourth Gate: Gate of Pain—Release!"

The words echoed across the mountain, carried by an invisible force that made the air tremble. A surge of chakra erupted from Hinata, enveloping her in a brilliant white glow. The snow beneath her feet melted away instantly, exposing the rocky surface below. Streams of natural energy flowed into her from all directions, weaving themselves into the torrent of chakra.

The energy swirled around her in violent waves, coalescing into the shape of a massive construct—a lion of pure white chakra. Its mane crackled with energy, each strand shimmering like starlight. The lion stood tall, towering over the battlefield, its eyes gleaming with the same radiant light as Hinata's Byakugan. The construct's presence was overwhelming, its every movement rippling with barely contained power.

Kijin's head tilted again, this time with a flicker of interest. "A lion, is it?" His voice was almost mocking, but his posture shifted ever so slightly, betraying a sense of wariness.

Hinata didn't respond. She extended her arms, palms facing outward, as the lion roared silently around her, its energy vibrating through the air like a song of rebellion. The fourth gate's power tore through her body, muscles straining and tearing, only to be instantly repaired by the natural energy coursing through her. Her breaths came in steady gasps as the pain coursed through her, but her eyes never wavered.

"Byakuren: Tsugi no Mai—Akejishi!" she declared, her voice ringing with clarity.

"But well, I'm afraid that I cannot allow you to do that either," Kijin interrupted, his voice as casual as if he were discussing the weather. He flicked his wrist dismissively, and in the blink of an eye, the colossal lion of chakra surrounding Hinata vanished. The radiant aura that had once dominated the battlefield was snuffed out like a candle in a storm, leaving only the biting cold of the mountains and the oppressive presence of Kijin.

Hinata blinked, her breath catching as she stumbled slightly, her body feeling suddenly lighter—but not in relief. Her strength was gone, her connection to the gates severed entirely. It was as if the power she had summoned had been siphoned away into an endless void. Her heart pounded as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

No. She knew exactly what had happened. She had been careless. Kijin had already demonstrated his ability to absorb chakra just as Samehada could, consuming her chakra attacks as if they were fuel. But she had convinced herself, foolishly, that her sage-enhanced chakra might be different. That the infusion of natural energy could circumvent his monstrous ability. Instead, she had handed him even more power.

"You Ninja," Kijin began, his tone tinged with mockery, "always seem to think bigger is better. Grand displays, large explosions—it's all so… unsophisticated." His pitch-black eyeholes fixed on her, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "But all that spectacle is such a bother for someone like me. Wouldn't it be preferable," he added, his voice dropping to an ominous murmur, "if you just… died quietly?"

Before Hinata could react, Kijin raised his hand, and with a sharp snap of his fingers, a web of blood-red wires erupted from the ground. The wires moved like serpents, weaving and slithering through the air, their edges glinting wickedly. They surged toward her, the speed and precision of their attack leaving no room for error.

Hinata's body screamed in protest as she leaped to the side, her movements sluggish without the power of the gates. The wires struck the ground where she had been standing a fraction of a second earlier, tearing through the snow and earth with a horrifying screech. The impact sent a spray of debris into the air, showering her as she rolled across the ground.

Pain shot through her as she hit the cold, hard surface, snow clinging to her robes. She scrambled to her feet, her breaths coming in sharp gasps. There was no time to think, no time to plan. Kijin's next attack was already in motion.

A bolt of lightning crackled to life in his palm, its energy warped and malevolent. He hurled it toward her with a flick of his wrist, the jagged streak of blue light cutting through the misty air. Hinata's Nichiren Byakugan narrowed instinctively, her vision honing in on the approaching attack. The world seemed to slow as she analyzed its trajectory.

There. She saw it—the natural tenketsu point within the lightning itself, a focal point where its energy converged.

Planting her feet firmly, Hinata extended her index finger, chakra gathering at the tip in a razor-thin thread of precision. She swung her arm forward, striking the bolt directly at its core. The impact sent a wave of pressure rippling outward, the sound like a thunderclap echoing across the mountain. The lightning split apart with a deafening crack, its energy dispersing harmlessly into the air.

Kijin tilted his head, an almost imperceptible gesture of intrigue. "Interesting," he murmured, his tone betraying neither anger nor frustration, only a cold curiosity. "I see now why you were able to stand against the swords. You're no ordinary human."

Hinata didn't respond. Her chest rose and fell with every labored breath, her body aching from the strain of dodging and countering his attacks. She knew this was only the beginning. Kijin wasn't even trying yet—and worse, she was already running out of options.

"How about this then?" Kijin growled, his tone dark and laden with contempt. With a single swing of his arm in a sideways chop, the energy he had absorbed erupted outward, a massive blue blade of chakra slicing through the air. It shrieked as it traveled, the sheer force of it warping the atmosphere, splitting clouds above the battlefield in a single instant.

Hinata had only a split second to act. She dove into the snow just as the energy blade passed, the sheer proximity of it sending a searing gust of wind that stung her skin.

The blade was impossibly large, stretching across the entire width of the mountain slope, and as it made contact with the earth, the impact was cataclysmic. The ground beneath their feet quaked violently, cracks spiderwebbing out from the point of impact as the mountain groaned in protest. The energy surged downward, carving a jagged, glowing scar through the rock face. Snow erupted in geysers from the force, avalanches cascading down on all sides.

The force flung her downward, and she disappeared into the snow as if swallowed by the earth itself. The cold bit at her as she tumbled through the icy mass, the sound of the collapsing mountain thundering in her ears.

The avalanche roared past her, carrying with it everything in its path. Rocks, shattered ice, and uprooted trees joined the deluge, a destructive tide consuming all in its wake. Hinata's body was buffeted by the rush of snow, but her experience and instincts guided her. She clawed her way upward through the freezing chaos, breaking through to the surface just in time to watch the wolf-shaped peak, now unrecognizable, continue its catastrophic descent.

The mountain, once a majestic peak shaped like a wolf's head, bore the brunt of Kijin's attack. The wolf's features—the sharp ears, the proud snout—were severed with surgical precision. The top half of the mountain, with no foundation to support it, wavered for a moment, suspended in an eerie stillness. Then, with a deafening roar, it gave way.

The massive slab of rock and snow began to tumble, its descent accelerating with unstoppable momentum. Entire sections of the mountain crumbled as gravity claimed them, sending boulders the size of houses hurtling downward. A shockwave rippled through the land as the colossal mass smashed into the slope below, triggering a chain reaction of destruction.

The collision unleashed a deafening cacophony, a sound so immense it seemed to swallow all other noise. Trees were uprooted, ancient pines and evergreens flattened like blades of grass. The ground convulsed, throwing massive chunks of rock and debris into the air.

Kijin stood unmoving amidst the devastation, the crimson of his blood-stained armor stark against the blinding white of the snow. Despite the chaos he had unleashed, his posture was casual, as if he were entirely unbothered by the destruction he had wrought.

"You're light on your feet, I'll give you that," he remarked, his raspy voice carrying a tinge of amusement. Despite his coarse tone, his words carried an eerie calm, as though the annihilation of a mountain were no more remarkable than swatting a fly.

Hinata shivered, not just from the biting cold but from the realization of Kijin's sheer destructive capability. He was holding back, treating this fight like an idle game, testing her limits and enjoying the spectacle of his power.

The way he spoke, his casual remarks in the midst of utter ruin, reminded her of Kali in a strange, unnerving way. She wondered if this demonic entity, sealed away for a millennium, was merely stretching his metaphysical muscles, using her as his entertainment while he reacquainted himself with the world. The thought filled her with dread, but also hardened her resolve.

If this was Kijin's warm-up, then she had to find a way to end this—before he unleashed his full power.

"Why am I still alive?" Hinata asked softly, her voice steady but edged with the weight of the destruction around her. She brushed the snow from her shrine maiden robes, her movements almost meditative. If Kijin had been serious, she shouldn't have survived his last attack. Yet here she was, standing amidst the ruins of the mountain. Survival itself was a miracle—or, perhaps, an opportunity. She couldn't waste it.

Kijin rolled his shoulders, the crimson armor creaking faintly as he shook out his arms, groggily brushing away imaginary dust. "You would be a little rusty too if you had been sealed for a thousand years," he admitted. His voice, still rough and apathetic, carried a faint tinge of amusement. "Fighting someone like you is good practice. A reminder of what my strength once was."

Hinata narrowed her eyes but said nothing, watching every subtle movement he made. He was testing her, she realized, sharpening himself like a blade. If she gave him the chance, his power would only grow sharper, more precise. That couldn't happen.

"So if you have more power," Kijin continued, his tone turning mocking, "now is the time to use it. My next attack won't miss." The words hung in the air, a casual threat delivered with absolute certainty.

Hinata nodded, accepting his challenge. "Thank you for your consideration," she said, her voice calm, as if she were speaking to a sparring partner rather than an ancient demon who had just cleaved a mountain in half. She pressed her hand to her next tenketsu point without hesitation. "Sixth Gate: Gate of View—Release!"

The change was immediate. An immense surge of energy erupted from within her, the very air around her vibrating as the gate opened. Snow whipped around her body, melting in the sheer heat of her presence. The power of the sixth gate flowed through her like a storm, her hair lifting in the current of her chakra. For a fleeting moment, the pressure of her presence was overwhelming, almost suffocating.

Kijin raised a hand, preparing to absorb her chakra once again, confident in his ability to nullify any power she unleashed. "You humans really don't learn," he said, his voice laced with disdain. "It doesn't matter how much you throw at me. I'll just—" He stopped mid-sentence, his arm frozen halfway to intercept her energy. His pitch-black eyes narrowed behind the crimson mask.

There was nothing.

The oppressive wave of chakra that had just engulfed the battlefield vanished entirely, as if snuffed out like a candle. Kijin could still see her, standing mere feet away, the snow settling around her form—but she had become an anomaly. There was no trace of power, no signature of chakra, not even the faint hum of natural energy. It was as though she had ceased to exist as a shinobi altogether, leaving behind only an empty shell of flesh and blood.

Kijin's gaze darkened, his curiosity giving way to a shadow of disappointment. His head tilted slightly, the movement slow and deliberate, as if he were observing something beneath his notice. "What is this?" he asked, his voice low and flat, laced with a faint, almost mocking edge. "You can't seriously mean to fight me like this."

He took a step forward, the snow crunching under his armored boots, the sound echoing unnaturally in the ruined stillness of the mountain. His abyssal eyes narrowed, scanning her stance as though searching for an answer. "Have you truly given up? After all that spectacle, all that defiance, you stand there as if waiting for me to end it?"

Kijin raised his bloodstained gauntlet, his movements slow and measured, almost ceremonial, as though readying to deliver the final blow to a pitiful adversary. "If this is how you intend to face me, then I misjudged you, Shrine Maiden. How disappointing. To think someone who could shatter the seal of my imprisonment would throw their life away so easily."

His words carried a faint, biting amusement, but there was no malice in his tone—only the quiet resignation of someone erasing an obstacle unworthy of their time. He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "What a waste."

Hinata didn't respond. Her focus was absolute. She inhaled deeply, the cold air stinging her lungs, and exhaled in a slow, measured release, her breath crystallizing in the frosty air. With practiced precision, she shifted into the Jyūken stance.

But this time, it was different.

Her hands, which should have been open with palms outstretched in the traditional style of her clan, were now clenched into tight fists. The change was subtle but significant, a break from centuries of Hyūga tradition. Her fists trembled faintly, not from fear but from the sheer tension in her body, her muscles coiled like springs ready to release.

Hinata stepped forward, her movement fluid, almost graceful, as if she were practicing a simple kata. Her fist swung out, the motion deceptively calm, carrying none of the flourish or flash typical of ninja techniques.

"What are you trying to do—" Kijin began, his voice tinged with disdain. But his words were cut off as a deep dent suddenly appeared in the breastplate of his crimson armor. The impact echoed like a thunderclap, reverberating through the mountain air. He staggered back, his body twisting slightly as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Air pressure? No, there hadn't been any shift in the wind. There had been no sound, no warning. It was as if the blow had materialized out of nowhere, bypassing all defenses and striking him directly. It wasn't something he could see, hear, or even feel until it had already landed.

Kijin's black, abyssal eyes narrowed behind his demonic mask. "What is this trickery?" he growled, flexing his shoulders as if to shake off the blow. The dent in his armor popped back into place with a grotesque groan of metal bending against itself. But he couldn't shake the nagging feeling—this was no ordinary technique. This wasn't something he understood.

Hinata stepped again, her movements steady, almost meditative, as if she weren't even engaged in battle. Her other fist swung forward, and Kijin instinctively moved to the side, confident he had dodged the attack. But his confidence was misplaced. A new dent appeared in his shoulder plate, the force of the blow nearly causing him to stumble.

His eyes widened. He hadn't misjudged her trajectory—he had been sure he had moved far enough away. Could she manipulate the direction of her attacks after they were thrown? Or was the reach of her strikes beyond what he could perceive? Worse, it was as if the natural world itself had struck him, as if Hinata were wielding the very air, the ground, and the energy of existence against him.

"You…" Kijin muttered, his voice lower now, tinged with something foreign to him—uncertainty. He straightened, his blood-forged armor creaking with the movement. "You're no mere Shrine Maiden."

Hinata didn't respond, didn't flinch. She took another step, her presence quiet and unrelenting, her fists curling tighter as she prepared another strike.

Kijin's fingers flexed into fists as he scanned her for any sign of a chakra signature, any indication of a weak point. There was nothing. It was maddening, this absolute void. The only thing he could sense was the faint disturbance in the natural energy around her, as though the world itself was bending to her will.

A dent appeared in his abdomen before he even realized she had moved again. The impact sent him skidding back, his boots digging deep grooves into the icy surface of the shattered mountaintop. His black eyes flared, and for the first time in centuries, Kijin felt something unfamiliar tightening in his chest—a sensation he hadn't experienced since the day he was ripped apart by the seven heroes and sealed into the swords.

Fear.

It clawed at the edges of his mind, an unwelcome intruder that sent ripples through his ancient composure. How could this girl—a mere human—create such an unrelenting presence? How could she, with her delicate frame and soft-spoken demeanor, wield such a terrifying, incomprehensible power?

His confusion gave way to a simmering rage, the fear morphing into anger. Kijin's bloodied armor began to hiss and writhe, radiating a crimson aura. He straightened fully, his towering form casting a dark shadow over Hinata.

"You…" he growled, his voice losing its apathetic edge and gaining a sharpness that echoed with fury. "You dare to make me feel this way!? I, who once carved out nations, who defied the gods themselves?" He stomped the ground, cracks radiating outward like a web of broken glass. "I will not allow this!"

Hinata exhaled softly, her breath visible in the cold air. She tightened her stance, her fists steady. She didn't need words. Her actions, her unyielding presence, and the silent fury of nature surrounding her spoke louder than any declaration.

For the first time in their clash, it was Kijin who hesitated.

"…You damn humans!" Kijin's roar shattered the silence, his usual apathy consumed by a rising tide of fury. The blood-drenched figure raised his arm, and with a gesture that shook the air itself, a massive construct of chakra began to coalesce. It was the unmistakable form of Hiramekarei's mallet, now amplified and monstrous, a shimmering weapon of devastating energy.

He swung the colossal chakra mallet down with the force of a falling star, the sheer pressure of its descent ripping through the mountain air. Snow and debris swirled in the wake of its trajectory, a whirlwind heralding annihilation.

Hinata stepped forward, her fist moving with quiet precision, unburdened by hesitation or fear. The invisible strike rippled outward, its impact unseen but undeniable. It collided with the mallet mid-swing, halting its descent in an instant. The collision released a shockwave that rippled through the battlefield, flattening stone and sending loose debris flying.

Kijin's eyes narrowed, the pitch-black voids searching for answers in her motionless form. "What are you?" he growled, his voice heavy with frustration. He kicked off the ground, moving with impossible speed. His form became a streak of crimson and lightning, closing the distance between them in the span of a heartbeat.

The ground beneath him cracked and splintered from the force of his launch, a jagged scar marking his path. He appeared where Hinata had stood, his fist surging with the raw energy of Shibuki's might. The blow struck with an explosion that rocked the mountain, sending a cascade of shattered stone tumbling down its slope. The once-mighty wolf-shaped peak crumbled further, its silhouette distorted beyond recognition.

Yet, when the dust settled, Hinata wasn't there.

Kijin's head snapped up, the dark abyss of his eyes scanning the battlefield. His blood-forged senses reached out for her chakra signature, but there was nothing. It wasn't as though she was suppressing it—no, she had vanished from existence altogether. It was as if the very air had consumed her presence, leaving behind only the faint echo of her defiance.

A sharp dent appeared in the back of his plate armor, the sound of the impact reverberating like a bell tolling his defeat. Kijin stumbled forward, spinning to locate her. There she was, standing behind him, her form calm, steady, and still. Her feet barely disturbed the snow beneath them, her presence blending seamlessly into the natural world.

With a snarl, he lashed out, unleashing a torrent of bloody wires surging with electricity. They cut through the air like a deadly web, crisscrossing in a pattern that left no room for escape. The wires arced toward Hinata, their edges glowing with lethal intent.

Hinata moved with an otherworldly precision, her body flowing like a river carving through stone. Her feet barely touched the snow as she stepped forward, her motions fluid yet sharp, each strike perfectly aligned with a purpose only she could see. Her fists blurred as they moved, cutting through the air in perfect arcs, their trajectories guided by the invisible lattice of destiny her Nichiren Byakugan revealed.

Her first strike cut through the closest wire, her knuckles grazing it with a barely perceptible touch that severed its energy flow. She pivoted on her heel, her left arm swinging outward in a crescent motion to intercept another thread as it lunged for her side. Her palm hovered for a split second before slicing through the attack, the movement so precise it seemed effortless.

With a seamless spin, her right fist snapped upward, shattering a cluster of wires descending from above. Each motion was deliberate, her strikes surgical in their execution. A flick of her wrist redirected an errant spark, her fingers brushing the web's threads with the gentlest force required to disrupt their energy. She stepped again, her movements too swift for the naked eye to follow, her strikes carving a path of destruction through the bloodied web.

Her arms never hesitated, each strike following the guiding lines with a grace that felt predestined. She spun low, her leg sweeping out as her fists continued their dance, splitting apart another barrage of wires converging from all angles. The air around her seemed to hum, each severed thread falling away like discarded strings of fate.

Hinata's movements were a perfect harmony of speed and precision, her body tracing an intricate pattern of defiance that dismantled the web piece by piece. The wires crumbled into sparks that scattered harmlessly in the snow, their energy dissipating into the frozen air.

"Enough!" Kijin bellowed, his anger igniting into pure, unrestrained fury. He surged forward again, a blur of red and lightning. His fist swung with the force to cleave another mountain, crackling with an aura of destructive chakra.

Hinata didn't dodge. She didn't block. And yet, the blow missed entirely. It wasn't that she had moved—it was as if the world itself had shifted around her, bending reality to place her outside his reach. Kijin stumbled forward, the aura of his attack dissipating harmlessly into the open air.

His frustration boiled over, and his voice turned into a guttural snarl. "How are you doing this?" He swung wildly, his attacks a flurry of strikes that obliterated the terrain. Each blow carved deep furrows into the snow and stone, yet not a single strike came close to her. It was as though the universe itself conspired to make him fail.

Hinata moved like a leaf in the wind, her steps so small and unassuming that they seemed almost meaningless. Yet every motion carried a profound weight, as if she were no longer a separate entity but a part of the natural world itself. She exhaled softly, her breath visible in the icy air, and took another step forward.

Kijin reeled back, his rage flickering with something deeper, something darker—confusion. Fear. This girl, who should have been nothing more than a mortal nuisance, was unraveling him. Each step she took seemed to peel back the layers of his ancient confidence, exposing the raw uncertainty beneath.

"Answer me!" Kijin roared, his voice a guttural echo that reverberated across the mountain, shaking its fractured remains. He thrust his arms skyward, and blood-red tendrils surged from his fingertips, merging with the storm-laden sky above. The energy ignited the air, and the clouds churned unnaturally, spiraling into a vortex of chaos. The once-clear heavens above the battlefield darkened as if night had fallen, the swirling storm an unnatural byproduct of their clash.

The air crackled with raw, unrelenting energy as jagged bolts of lightning, impossibly large and serpentine, tore upward from Kijin's hands, disappearing into the heart of the storm. The tendrils of electricity danced through the turbulent clouds, merging with the unnatural tempest. The storm pulsed, its edges glowing crimson like embers in a raging inferno. A heavy silence fell for a heartbeat—then the heavens answered.

With a deafening roar, the lightning surged downward, massive forks splitting from the sky in fiery arcs, each one illuminating the battlefield with apocalyptic brilliance. The strikes moved with devastating purpose, their jagged paths carving deep scars into the crumbling remains of the wolf-headed mountain. Snow exploded into steam upon contact, billowing clouds of vapor spreading in all directions. Stone turned molten, fissures snaking outward like veins as the bolts shattered boulders into dust.

The thunder rolled in waves, a relentless cacophony that seemed to shake the earth itself. Each successive bolt grew larger, angrier, as if the storm had become a living entity, intent on answering Kijin's fury. The energy in the air grew oppressive, crushing against the senses. It wasn't simply lightning; it was as though Kijin had summoned the wrath of the heavens themselves, a divine judgment meant to obliterate everything in its path.

The mountain, already fractured from their earlier battle, began to crumble further under the onslaught. Entire sections broke away, tumbling into the abyss below as the lightning gouged deeper and deeper wounds into the rock. The once-proud wolf's head, a natural monument of the Land of Iron, was unrecognizable now—its form reduced to molten slag and scattered debris beneath the relentless strikes.

Through the destruction, Hinata stood firm, her figure barely visible amidst the fiery glow of the collapsing mountain. The lightning raged around her like a tempestuous sea, yet her presence remained unyielding, a single thread of calm amidst the storm's fury.

Hinata didn't dare speak, even to answer Kijin's constant barbs and manic inquiries. She couldn't afford to. Her focus was entirely inward now, an unrelenting struggle to maintain her identity against the immense forces she had unleashed. Her body slid further down the mountain slope, her feet skidding across loose rubble and melted snow. Bolts of lightning struck where she had stood only moments before, each impact a devastating reminder of Kijin's monstrous power.

Her breaths came slow and measured, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She wasn't ignoring Kijin's taunts, but engaging with him at this moment felt… trivial. The real battle wasn't just with him—it was within herself.

The sixth gate had rewritten the battlefield, not just externally, but in the deepest recesses of her spirit. Physical pain, which had once been her greatest concern in unlocking the gates, was now secondary. Her muscles no longer tore themselves apart under the strain; instead, her very sense of being began to unravel.

Up to the fifth gate, her chakra had remained her own. The natural energy she mixed with it had amplified her strength and allowed her to create incredible constructs of white energy, such as the Dawn Lion. But the sixth gate had transformed that energy into something more profound. It was no longer a force that could be seen or shaped. Instead, it moved as if it were a part of the world itself, transcending the physical.

And it was consuming her.

The overwhelming flood of natural energy fused with her chakra in ways she could never be fully prepared for. Her sense of self—her identity as Hinata, her desires, her fears, her purpose—felt as though it were dissolving into the vast, infinite flow of nature. The storm of power coursing through her offered something terrifyingly serene: the allure of becoming something more than human—and something less. A Buddha who had transcended worldly concerns, but abandoned the fight she had committed herself to.

She exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the freezing air. The mountain trembled beneath another of Kijin's attacks, chunks of rock tumbling away as the avalanche intensified. Steam and dust swirled around her, the superheated snow vaporizing on contact with the lightning strikes. She could no longer see the world clearly, her vision obscured by the fog of destruction.

But then, through the haze, Kijin emerged.

The dents in his armor from her earlier attacks had already popped back into place, the crimson plates gleaming once more as if freshly forged. He stalked toward her with a predator's patience, his movements eerily fluid. The aura around him pulsed with raw malice, and the ground seemed to wither beneath his feet.

Hinata watched him closely, her Nichiren Byakugan piercing through the haze.

The Senken—her Sage's Fist—was a technique that concentrated natural energy into precise, cannon-like blows. It should have been unstoppable, a force capable of obliterating any opponent. Yet all it had accomplished against Kijin was to dent his armor. Then his body, infused with the power of Kubikiribōchō, healed with impossible speed, as though the very concept of damage was an insult to his existence.

Her fingers twitched, and she felt the energy around her shift in response. She had to focus, to recalibrate. If the Senken wouldn't work as a blunt force attack, she needed to find another way. But every adjustment, every decision, came with the risk of losing her focus and succumbing to the energy flowing through her.

Each step forward was a fight to remain Hinata, to hold onto her humanity against the relentless tide of natural energy. Kijin's pitch-black eyeholes locked onto her, his curiosity and anger mingling in his expression.

"If it's going to be like this," Kijin said, his voice steady now, the edge of rage replaced by cold determination, "then I have no choice but to go all out." His posture shifted, his movements deliberate as he stepped forward. Gone was the lazy, indifferent air he had carried throughout the battle. Now, his entire frame radiated purpose, his aura sharpening like a blade drawn from its scabbard.

He rolled his shoulders, his clawed fingers flexing as if testing their strength. "I see now that I've been far too lenient, far too slow to reclaim my former power." His voice deepened, resonating with an ancient authority that seemed to shake the very air around them. "Your little tricks… your fleeting victories… All of them stem from nothing more than my momentary rust. Let me remind the world of who I truly am."

He dropped into a low combat stance, his arms extending outward, blood trailing from his fingertips and pooling unnaturally on the ground below. It coalesced around him, rising like steam, before forming jagged spires that hovered in the air, trembling with anticipation.

"Your death shall serve as the offering for my return," Kijin declared, his voice ringing with an unsettling finality. "On my name as Demon King Kijin of the Demonic Blood."

Hinata stood tall, her chest heaving from the effort of holding the sixth gate open, her vision clouded by exhaustion and the haze of natural energy swirling around her. But her resolve did not waver. She ignored the heaviness in her limbs, and adjusted her stance. Her hands trembled slightly before she clenched them into tight fists, steadying herself against the storm raging within.

"I won't allow that to happen," she replied, her voice soft but firm. She took a slow, deliberate breath, her exhale visible in the icy air. The act grounded her, pulling her back from the brink of losing herself to the overwhelming tide of energy. Her Nichinren Byakugan flared, the white lotus in her eyes piercing through the fog of battle to focus on Kijin with unwavering clarity.

"I pledge this," she continued, "on my name as Hinata of the White Lotus."

The words seemed to echo in the broken silence of the battlefield, resonating not just outward but inward. Speaking her name—her identity—was more than a declaration. It was a tether, a lifeline she clung to amidst the maelstrom of power threatening to strip her away from herself. The White Lotus symbolized more than her strength; it was her connection to her purpose, her friends, and her will to fight for a world worth protecting.

The air between them crackled with tension as the two combatants stood poised, each radiating an entirely different kind of power. Kijin's malevolent energy seeped into the earth, the blood-forged spires twisting unnaturally, reflecting his dark dominion. Hinata, on the other hand, radiated an invisible presence, an almost serene intensity that seemed to fuse her with the very fabric of nature itself.

For a brief moment, time seemed to still. Then the mountain shook beneath their feet, heralding the next clash of titans.

The two moved as one, crossing the shattered terrain with a speed that defied comprehension. Kijin's fist, cloaked in crackling lightning and glowing with explosive energy, collided with Hinata's invisible senken strike. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, obliterating what little remained of the ground beneath their feet. The resulting crater was so deep it exposed the bedrock, fractures spidering out in every direction.

They barely paused before their next clash, their movements blurring with a deadly rhythm. Hinata twisted her body, launching another senken strike, the invisible force of her attack slamming into Kijin's crimson armor. A dent appeared, but Kijin didn't falter. Instead, he retaliated with a thunderous uppercut, the electricity surrounding his fist sparking like a living thing. Hinata swayed back, narrowly avoiding the blow, the energy crackling inches from her face.

Again and again, they moved and clashed, their battlefield shifting with each exchange. One moment they were atop a crumbling plateau; the next, they had descended into the jagged ruins below. Each strike carved deep scars into the earth, the remnants of the once-proud wolf-headed mountain now reduced to a chaotic wasteland of rubble and steam.

Kijin's strength was overwhelming. Each time Hinata's senken struck his armor, the dents seemed to vanish almost as quickly as they formed, the sentient blood that composed him repairing the damage with frightening efficiency. Hinata's sixth gate granted her an ethereal precision and the ability to merge with the natural energy around her, but it wasn't enough. Kijin's attacks carried the weight of an ancient, boundless power, and with each blow, he seemed to grow more accustomed to her movements.

Hinata's breaths came faster now, each one labored and visible in the icy air. She focused entirely on her movements, each step, each strike, a deliberate attempt to maintain control over the storm of energy swirling within her. She couldn't afford to let herself waver.

"Let's see how long you can keep this up." Kijin raised a hand, and from his fingertips erupted a web of bloody wires, each strand humming with electric chakra. The wires cut through the air like a swarm of serpents, their crimson gleam reflecting the eerie light of their battlefield.

Hinata's hands moved in a blur, striking the natural tenketsu points of the wires, dispersing them before they could reach her. Yet for every strand she destroyed, more seemed to emerge, their numbers endless.

Kijin took advantage of her momentary distraction, closing the distance in an instant. His figure blurred, appearing beside her with a downward chop that carried the weight of a collapsing mountain. Hinata sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the blow, but Kijin was relentless. From his strike erupted a maelstrom of electric chakra blades, the chaotic energy forming a tornado around her.

The air itself seemed to howl as the blades slashed at Hinata from every angle. She twisted and spun, her senken strikes deflecting the worst of the storm, but the sheer intensity of the attack began to push her back. The ground beneath her feet cracked and crumbled with every step she took, the force of Kijin's assault driving her closer and closer to the edge of the battlefield.

"You're slowing," Kijin observed, his voice taking on a mocking edge. "Even your gates have their limits. Do you feel it yet? The inevitability of your defeat?"

Hinata gritted her teeth, refusing to respond to his taunts. She lashed out with another senken strike, but Kijin was already moving, his blood-forged wires wrapping around the energy and dispersing it before it could reach him. He retaliated with a sweeping kick, the force of it sending her skidding backward across the rubble. She barely managed to catch herself, her feet digging into the broken ground for purchase.

For the first time, it was clear: Kijin was beginning to overpower her. His attacks came faster, his blows heavier, and Hinata could feel the strain of the sixth gate weighing on her. Each movement felt like dragging her body through quicksand, the spiritual toll of maintaining her sense of self alongside the physical exertion pushing her closer to her limit.

She needed to regroup, to find an opening, but Kijin gave her no room to breathe. His wires lashed out again, and this time, they caught her ankle. With a sharp tug, he pulled her off balance, sending her crashing to the ground.

"This is where it ends," Kijin declared, raising his hand for the final blow. His fist crackled with power, a vortex of crimson and lightning gathering around him. The earth trembled under the weight of his impending strike, the sheer force of it threatening to destroy what little remained of the mountain.

But even as she lay prone, Hinata's eyes sharpened, her determination unwavering. She wasn't finished yet. "Yata no Kagami!" Hinata shouted, her voice steady despite the storm surrounding her. From her left eye, the astral projection of the Yata Mirror materialized in an instant, its radiant surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow. The storm of Kijin's chakra blades crashed against it, the mirror absorbing the relentless onslaught and reflecting the chaotic energy back into the battlefield.

Kijin snarled, his frustration evident. "That infernal mirror again!?" His crimson armor seemed to ripple with his rising anger, and without hesitation, he lunged forward, his fist glowing with a terrifying mix of blood-red and electric blue energy. The impact of his blow against the Yata Mirror was cataclysmic. The shockwave it produced sent snow and debris spiraling into the air, scattering in all directions.

The force was enough to hurl Hinata backward, her body cutting through the frosty air like a falling star. She crashed into a crater's slope, sliding further down the remains of their previous clash. The cold bit into her skin as she rolled to a stop, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

Kijin stood atop the rubble, his black eyes glaring down at her. "You can't keep hiding behind that thing forever, girl," he growled, flexing his fingers, the power of his attacks still crackling around him.

Hinata pulled herself to her feet, her shrine maiden robes torn and dusted with snow and ash. She clenched her fists, briefly glancing at the faint glow of the Yata Mirror still lingering in the air before it faded away. Despite her exhaustion, her determination hadn't wavered.

Perfect. The distance Kijin unintentionally created was exactly what she needed. She exhaled slowly, her breath crystallizing in the frigid air, using the brief moment of respite to steady herself. Time was against her, but this fleeting moment of reprieve would be enough. It had to be.

Hinata held her hands steady, her palms facing one another, as if cradling an invisible weight between them. The air around her thickened, and the atmosphere seemed to vibrate with an almost imperceptible hum. She closed her eyes for a moment, tuning herself to the flow of natural energy that surrounded the deep crater. Her breathing slowed, her focus narrowing to a single point between her hands.

The space there began to warp, distorting as if reality itself were being bent and folded inward. The snowflakes in the air around her melted instantly, turning to steam before vanishing completely. The ground beneath her feet groaned under the pressure, cracks spiderwebbing outward as the energy she gathered condensed further. It wasn't just chakra—this was something beyond, something primal and absolute.

She started with the five fundamental elements: Lightning, crackling with violent unpredictability; Fire, swirling in molten streaks; Water, shimmering like liquid glass; Earth, solid and steady; and Wind, spinning in razor-sharp currents. Each element manifested in its rawest form, their individual presences threatening to destabilize the space around her. Yet, as Hinata moved her hands closer together, these chaotic forces began to meld.

She compressed them, forcing them to coexist, binding them with the vast natural energy she had drawn from the land itself. The orb began to take shape—a tiny, dense point of energy that pulsated with a deep, resonating hum. Its color was a shifting void, darker than black, as if it were a tear in the fabric of reality itself. The very space around it bent and twisted unnaturally, as if the orb were pulling light, sound, and time toward itself.

Finally, she brought the forces of Yin and Yang into play. The ethereal balance between creation and destruction, life and death, swirled around the edges of the orb, acting as the binding force that kept the volatile energy contained. The orb floated peacefully between her palms, its small size belying the monumental power stored within. The air around it was utterly silent, the kind of silence that was almost deafening. The faint hum that emanated from it was both soothing and terrifying, as though the orb itself was alive, waiting for a command.

Hinata's face remained calm, but beads of sweat ran down her temples. She knew that a single misstep in the process could cause the entire thing to detonate, obliterating not only herself but everything in a vast radius around her. Yet, her resolve never faltered. Her body ached from the strain of the sixth gate, and her mind screamed against the weight of maintaining her identity amidst the overwhelming tide of natural energy, but she pressed on.

The Gudōdama, the Truth-Seeker Orb, was complete. It hung between her hands like a singularity of absolute potential, the culmination of her training under Kali, a feat that should have been impossible for anyone without the innate gifts of the Rikudō Sennin.

For a moment, Hinata allowed herself to admire it—a perfect, impossible creation. Then she channeled the image imprinted on her right eye into it.

"Gohei!" Hinata's voice rang out, clear and resolute, as she extended her hands. The Gudōdama pulsed, its impossible energy shifting, reshaping itself. The dark orb transformed into a short staff, smooth and sleek, its shaft impossibly balanced between raw power and refined precision.

In her left eye, the astral projection of the Yata Mirror shimmered, but it was her right eye that revealed the Gohei's true form: A ceremonial wand unlike any other, its shaft hewn from the wood of the God Tree, untouched by time, dark as the void yet gleaming with an inner light that suggested its divine origin. At the end of the staff, two intertwining paper seals unfurled, their edges fluttering in a nonexistent breeze. They moved as if alive, dancing to an unseen rhythm, their motion both graceful and unsettling. The seals shimmered faintly, alternating between blinding brilliance and shadowed depth. Inscribed upon them were ancient symbols, etched in a language older than any living civilization. These markings, barely discernible even with the Nichiren Byakugan, whispered the essence of Hakke, the Eight Trigrams.

Hinata waved the Gohei gently, watching as the paper seals danced with her movements. To an observer, it might have seemed like nothing more than a relic from a long-forgotten shrine. But to Hinata, it was a weapon of divine reckoning, capable of influencing the very balance of existence. It was Kali's original Gohei, a sacred tool once wielded to commune with gods, now repurposed as a symbol of judgment. With each delicate sway, the seals resonated with the natural energy around her, aligning and spinning the great celestial mechanism that was the Hakke.

Kijin stopped, his abyssal gaze locked on the strange artifact in her hands. Though he had no visible expression, the unnatural stillness of his form betrayed his unease. "A shrine maiden's wand?" His voice carried no mockery, only quiet curiosity. "Do you intend to purify me with that… thing?"

Hinata didn't answer. Her focus remained entirely on the Gohei, the act of holding it helping her maintain her fragile sense of self amidst the storm of natural energy. The Eight Trigrams had begun to align beneath her feet, an intricate pattern forming on the rock, glowing faintly as if in response to the Gohei's presence.

Surrounding the central pinyin were three concentric circles, their surfaces inscribed with ancient markings. The innermost layer contained numerical symbols, each pulsating faintly as if imbued with latent energy. The outer layer of the three circles displayed rows of characters—eight in the first, and twenty-eight in each of the outer two. Together, these characters completed the sixty-four hexagrams of the Hakke, the essence of balance and transformation.

Kijin tilted his head, his abyssal gaze fixed on the artifact. The power radiating from it caused the blood coursing through his form to churn uneasily, a subtle ripple betraying his composure. "I see… that's no mere relic," he said at last, his voice carrying a faint edge of caution. "A tool of the gods, is it? A fragment of divinity itself. In other words—your ultimate weapon."

He extended his hand slowly, the movement almost ceremonial, palm upturned as though he were making an offering to the heavens—or perhaps summoning something down from them. The snow around him instantly evaporated, the air itself thickening with an ominous pressure. His abyssal eyeholes narrowed, and a grotesque sound emanated from his body, a sickening mix of gurgling and tearing, as crimson liquid began to seep from his wrist.

The blood, thick and almost black in the dim light, did not spill or scatter. Instead, it defied gravity, rising upward in tendrils that coiled and twisted unnaturally. The blood swirled in midair, spiraling upward with a ritualistic grace. It moved like a living thing, pulsing with an unsettling rhythm that seemed to echo a heartbeat long forgotten. The tendrils grew longer, intertwining with one another, weaving themselves into the shape of a long, slender pole.

Kijin's voice, raspy yet resonant, broke the silence. "Mine weapon is not merely forged but born," he intoned, his tone carrying the weight of ancient authority. "It is the embodiment of vengeance, despair, and dominion—a blade that has tasted gods and carved kingdoms into existence."

As he spoke, the pole began to solidify, the blood condensing into a glossy, obsidian-like shaft that radiated malevolent energy. At its apex, a curved blade began to form, its edge shimmering with an otherworldly gleam. The blade itself seemed almost alive, undulating faintly as if craving release. Crimson veins pulsed across its surface, a reminder of its origin—a weapon not of steel but of living blood, twisted and hardened into something far more terrifying.

When the weapon was complete, Kijin twirled it effortlessly, the motion elegant yet brimming with menace. The air around the scythe hissed, distorted by its very presence. Snowflakes that dared drift too close disintegrated instantly, and the faint sound of wailing whispers echoed around them, as if the weapon carried the voices of countless souls it had claimed.

The scythe's curved blade gleamed in the pale light, a crescent moon of destruction. Its pole was as black as midnight, faint rivulets of blood still crawling along its surface as though alive. Kijin rested the weapon over his shoulder with a casual ease that belied its destructive potential, its blade glinting dangerously close to his horned helmet.

"Behold," Kijin declared, his voice resonating with a strange blend of pride and disdain. "The Shinigami Blood Scythe, forged from my essence and sharpened by the despair of a thousand years. It was with this very tool that I carved the Land of Water from the heart of the continent. A single stroke split the earth, gouging it so deeply that the ocean poured in, drowning the land and leaving only the fractured islands that would one day become the Village Hidden in the Mist."

His tone grew colder, more direct, as his abyssal gaze locked onto Hinata. "You have created your weapon, and I have summoned mine. Let us see which of us wields the stronger will—your borrowed balance or my absolute chaos."

The scythe pulsed once, sending out a shockwave of malevolent energy that rippled through the battlefield. Snow melted, steam rose, and the already scarred terrain seemed to groan under the weight of its presence. Kijin shifted into a low stance, his scythe poised like a grim executioner preparing to deliver a final, unassailable blow.

The Gohei gleamed in Hinata's hands, a perfect contradiction: dark as night yet brimming with the purity of dawn. Its presence seemed to reshape the battlefield itself, the storm of destruction left in Kijin's wake momentarily stilled.

Hinata strode forward, her movements deliberate and measured, as if she were walking through sacred grounds rather than a battlefield. The Gohei in her hands swayed gently, its seals twirling with grace, their motion hypnotic and reverent. Her Shrine Maiden robes, their purple and white hues stark against the ruins of the wolf-shaped mountain, billowed in the icy wind as if moved by a power greater than nature itself. She didn't spare a glance for Kijin, her focus entirely on the Gohei, as though the battle had already been decided in her mind.

Kijin, standing amidst the fractured remnants of the mountain, observed her with silent contempt. His scythe, the blood-forged weapon pulsating with an ominous rhythm, glowed a deep crimson, veins of raw power coursing along its shaft and blade. The storm of his aura grew violent, his presence warping the very air around him as blood-red mist coiled at his feet, soaking into the snow. His abyssal eyes narrowed, their void-like depths radiating a malevolent anticipation.

He shifted his stance, the scythe glinting as he raised it high. The blade arced above him like a crescent moon soaked in blood, its edge radiating with an energy so intense that the air itself trembled. His stance was commanding, his entire form exuding destructive intent.

"Chigiri!" Kijin roared, his voice a proclamation of doom. He brought the scythe down with the force of a falling star, the motion sending a tidal wave of crimson energy surging forward. The attack ripped apart the ground as it traveled, tearing through stone and snow alike. The power of the scythe extended far beyond the immediate battlefield, the red wave radiating outward with enough ferocity to annihilate not only the Sanrō but the entirety of the Land of Iron. The heavens seemed to weep as the attack ascended to its climax, the sheer force of it sending shockwaves that shattered what little remained of the mountain peaks.

Hinata's pace did not falter. Even as the ground beneath her fractured and the air split with the screech of raw destruction, she raised the Gohei high above her head, the seals flaring to life. The Eight Trigrams beneath her feet glowed with a brilliance that rivaled the blood-red wave barreling toward her. For a single heartbeat, time seemed to stop, the battlefield frozen between destruction and defiance.

"Byakuren: San no Mai—Kagura!" Hinata's voice rang out like a divine decree, cutting through the chaos with absolute clarity. With the declaration of her technique, the third dance of the White Lotus began.

The seals on the Gohei spun faster, their light blending into an intricate, ethereal pattern. The Hakke beneath her feet responded instantly, the trigrams aligning in perfect harmony. The spinning circles of characters illuminated the battlefield with a radiant glow, an otherworldly light that contrasted starkly against the crimson destruction advancing toward her. With a single wave of the Gohei, the power of her dance began to unfold, a sacred energy flowing through her movements.

Kijin's attack roared closer, a manifestation of chaos and annihilation. Yet Hinata, poised and resolute, stood firm, her every movement an invocation of balance and harmony. The clash of their powers was imminent, the air crackling with anticipation as two forces—one born of divine order, the other of blood and destruction—hurtled toward their inevitable collision.

The circles stopped spinning, their alignment now complete. The character for "Dispersing" shone brightly in the second layer, its brilliance radiating outward like a beacon. The air itself seemed to freeze in reverence for the moment, as if nature itself held its breath. And then, in an instant, the impossible happened.

Kijin's crimson wave reached the boundary of the trigrams—and vanished.

Not dissipated, not countered, but erased. The apocalyptic surge of energy was undone with such thoroughness that it was as though it had never existed. The fractured ground ceased trembling, the oppressive weight lifted, and the air became eerily still. The battlefield was left silent, the destructive wave removed from existence as if by divine decree.

"W-What is this…?" Kijin's voice, usually so composed or scornful, now trembled with disbelief. His abyssal eyes darted across the field, searching for some trace of his attack. But there was nothing. Where there should have been a crater consuming the Land of Iron, there was only the unyielding light of the trigrams, their radiant glow unbroken.

Hinata didn't answer Kijin's question. Her focus was elsewhere, centered entirely on the movements of the Gohei in her hands.

She waved the wand in a gorgeous arc, the black seals trailing behind it as if caught in an unseen current. Each motion was fluid and purposeful, her body moving with the grace of a seasoned performer in a sacred dance. Her shrine maiden robes billowed gently with each step she took, the violet and white fabric rippling like a calm ocean under moonlight. Her feet moved with practiced precision, tracing the edges of the glowing eight trigrams beneath her.

As she spun on her heel, the Gohei came around in a wide sweep. The seals fluttered in the cold air, their blackness stark against the radiant light of the trigrams. The concentric circles surrounding her began to turn once more, their motion smooth and mesmerizing. Symbols and characters shimmered in the rotating layers, glowing with an otherworldly intensity. Each alignment of the layers radiated a pulse of energy, like a heartbeat reverberating across the battlefield. It wasn't merely light; it was an undeniable force of nature, ancient and all-encompassing.

With a final, decisive motion, Hinata brought the Gohei to a halt above her head. The circles ceased their spinning, locking into place with an audible hum of power. The character for "Holding" glowed brightly in the outermost circle, its meaning etched into the fabric of reality itself. The light spread outward in rippling waves, its brilliance bathing the battlefield.

Kijin's eyes widened as he attempted to move. His muscles strained, but his limbs refused to obey. He willed himself forward, his body rejecting his commands as though he had been disconnected from it. He stood frozen in place, watching as the dance unfolded. For all his strength, for all his power, he felt an unfamiliar weight settle over him. It wasn't physical—no chains bound him, no hands restrained him. It was something deeper, something primal. A force that reached into the very core of his being and commanded him to stay. It was as if the world itself had turned against him.

The glow of the trigrams intensified, lines of light shooting up from the pattern beneath Hinata, forming a translucent dome around her and her captive. The lines shimmered, pulsing with energy, each pulse reinforcing the invisible bonds that held Kijin in place. It wasn't chakra or sage energy. It was something far beyond his comprehension—a force older than either of them, imbued with the authority of gods.

Blood-red wires sprouted from his armor as he attempted to break free. The wires lashed out in all directions, striking at the dome, but each one disintegrated upon contact, reduced to nothing more than faint wisps of smoke. Even his own blood rebelled against him, refusing to aid him in his escape.

Hinata waved the Gohei once more, her movements precise yet imbued with an elegance that seemed almost divine. The glowing characters etched into the spinning trigrams responded instantly, the circles rotating faster than before, their luminescence intensifying to a blinding brilliance. The air hummed with an oppressive energy, a vibration that resonated not just in the battlefield, but deep within the essence of all who witnessed it.

The circles stopped suddenly, locking into place as the character for 'Abounding' flared to life. Its radiance eclipsed all the others, flooding the entire area with a golden-white light so bright that it cast no shadows. The energy it released surged outward in cascading waves, filling the space with a force so overwhelming that even Kijin, for all his strength, felt his knees buckle under its weight.

Hinata stood at the center of this maelstrom, her form now wreathed in an otherworldly aura. Her shrine maiden robes glowed with the same ethereal light as the trigrams, the white of the fabric almost too pure to look at. The violet accents of her attire seemed to ripple like liquid, catching and reflecting the celestial energy surrounding her. Her ponytail billowed in the unseen currents, each strand appearing like threads spun from moonlight.

The abounding power surged into her, flooding her veins with a force that transcended any form of energy she had ever wielded. It wasn't chakra or sage energy—it was something far older, something divine, bestowed by a higher plane of existence. Her very presence became overwhelming, as if she were no longer bound by mortal constraints. The air around her crackled with intensity, the sheer weight of her newfound power distorting the space around her. It was as though the laws of reality were bending to accommodate her.

Kijin could feel it now—this wasn't simply energy. This was judgment, a celestial force that seemed to hold dominion over existence itself. He gripped his scythe to keep it from drooping as he fought to remain upright, attempting to rally his strength, but it was like trying to stand against a tsunami with nothing but his willpower.

Hinata's expression remained serene, but there was something in her eyes that Kijin found unsettling. They were calm yet unwavering, as if she had become an extension of the very heavens that had granted her this power. She raised the Gohei once more, its black surface now glowing with traces of gold, the paper seals dancing like they were alive, their motion dictated by the divine energy radiating from her.

The ground beneath her feet cracked and fissured, unable to bear the sheer magnitude of the force she was channeling. Yet Hinata herself stood unyielding, as though she had transcended the chaos of battle and stepped into a realm of perfect harmony. The trigrams beneath her began to ripple like water, the symbols shifting slightly as if responding to her heartbeat.

For the first time since their battle began, Kijin felt something he thought he was no longer capable of—true, unrelenting awe. "You… you are not human anymore," he murmured, his voice trembling with equal parts anger and fear.

Yet again, Hinata waved the Gohei with a type of divine grace, her movements more measured, almost as if she were conducting an unseen orchestra. The trigrams spun rapidly in response, glowing brighter with each rotation. The air became heavier, laden with an invisible pressure that seemed to crush everything under its weight.

The spinning circles abruptly stopped, locking into place, and the character for 'Humbling' flared to life. It pulsed with an eerie, golden radiance, emanating waves of energy that rippled outward. The once-dominant crimson aura surrounding Kijin flickered like a dying flame, dimming with each pulse of the character's light. The oppressive aura he exuded—his power, his dominance—was being unraveled thread by thread, stripped away with merciless precision.

Hinata's Gohei moved again, the paper seals fluttering in a seemingly delicate dance, yet each motion carried the weight of inevitability. The 'Humbling' character pulsed again, brighter this time, and Kijin felt the full force of its meaning.

The crimson blood of his armor darkened, losing its otherworldly luster. The once-formidable aura that had granted him the strength of the Seven Swords seemed to collapse inward, leaving him a pale imitation of the force he had been. His demonic blood scythe began to dissolve, its blade leaking droplets of blood that evaporated before they could hit the ground.

"You dare… reduce me… to this?" Kijin gasped, his knees buckling under the crushing weight of his own diminished power. The strength that had allowed him to bend the laws of nature, to rend mountains and oceans, was gone. He attempted to reach out with trembling hands, trying to summon even a fragment of the force that had once made him the Demon King, but there was nothing. He was bound by the very energy that Hinata commanded, humbled in every sense of the word.

The trigrams beneath Hinata glowed brighter still, their intricate symbols shifting subtly, as if savoring the act of reducing an ancient terror to something mortal. Kijin's breaths came in ragged gasps, his towering form now visibly smaller, the weight of the humbling energy compressing him into submission. He could do nothing but glare up at Hinata, powerless, fury blazing in his dark, empty eyes.

"You… will regret this…" Kijin rasped, his voice a shadow of its former dominance. But even as he spoke, the words lacked conviction, as though he himself knew they carried no weight. He was trapped, stripped of his might, his existence teetering on the edge of irrelevance.

Hinata's expression didn't waver. Her grip on the Gohei tightened slightly as she prepared to select the next character, her resolve as unshakable as the celestial energy that surrounded her. For Kijin, there would be no mercy. Only judgment.

She gave one final wave of the Gohei, as if sealing Kijin's fate with a sacred ritual. The trigram beneath her feet spun once more, the symbols aligning with an almost ceremonial finality. As they came to a stop, the character for 'Swallowing' ignited in a pale, ominous light, its meaning manifesting in reality with the opening of a rift beneath Kijin.

The ground split open soundlessly at first, but soon a deep, resonant hum filled the air, a soundless vibration that reverberated in the bones of all who heard it. The rift expanded outward in perfect symmetry, its edges impossibly smooth, as though carved by the hand of a god. What lay beyond was not a simple void but something far more alien and consuming. It was darkness, yes, but not the absence of light. It was a presence, a living abyss that seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions, swallowing even sound and energy into its endless maw. The edges of the rift shimmered faintly, as if reality itself was recoiling from its existence.

Kijin felt his feet begin to sink into the abyss, his crimson armor creaking as if resisting the pull of the void. The inky blackness clung to him like tar, pulling him deeper with each passing moment. It wasn't quicksand—it was far worse.

The abyss didn't just swallow him; it erased him, consuming him piece by piece as though unmaking his very essence. The tendrils of darkness moved with an eerie sentience, coiling around his form and pulling him downward, indifferent to his attempts to resist. Kijin's once-dominant aura of crimson power flickered and sputtered out, leaving only the faint glimmer of his crimson armor. The rift showed no mercy, no hesitation, no consideration for his ancient might.

As he sank deeper, Kijin let out a long sigh, the apathy returning to his voice like an old companion. "Ah… so this is my loss," he murmured, the faint echo of his words vanishing into the oppressive silence of the abyss. The void swallowed his legs, then his torso, reducing the once-mighty Demon King to nothing more than a head and shoulders. His blackened eyeholes turned upward, locking onto Hinata with a gaze that conveyed a strange contradiction—a blend of anger, resignation, and something almost akin to admiration.

"You've bested me, Hinata of the White Lotus," he said, his voice no longer carrying the weight of arrogance or malice.

"I'm sorry," Hinata said softly, her voice steady and sincere. She held the Gohei before her, bowing deeply, her long ponytail falling over her shoulder. Her shrine maiden robes fluttered gently in the cold mountain wind as if bidding him a final farewell. Her movements were serene, respectful, but unyielding, a reflection of her own convictions.

The abyss consumed him further, the dark tendrils now coiling around his neck. Kijin chuckled faintly, a sound that carried no malice but a kind of resigned acceptance. "The strong don't need to apologize," he said, his voice barely above a whisper now, almost lost to the endless void. "This is your victory. Reshape the world in the way you see fit… If you believe this will be enough to stop that sun goddess."

His final words hung in the air for only a moment before they, too, were swallowed by the abyss. The rift pulsed once, a low, ominous thrum echoing across the battlefield, and then Kijin was gone, erased as though he had never existed. The rift closed with a sharp crack, leaving only a faint disturbance in the air where it had been.

Hinata straightened, her breathing heavy but even, her hands tightening around the Gohei. The trigrams beneath her feet faded slowly, their brilliance dimming as they returned to the ether from which they had been summoned. The world fell silent, the weight of her actions pressing down on her shoulders. She had done it—sealed away a being of ancient and unparalleled power. Yet even in her triumph, Kijin's last words lingered in her mind like a dark shadow.

The mountain they had fought on was no more, reduced to a jagged expanse of rubble and dust. What had once been the proud wolf-shaped peak was now scattered across the frozen landscape, the destruction stretching as far as the eye could see. Snow and debris swirled together in chaotic patterns, the winds howling mournfully through the desolate remains.

Hinata stood at the center of the devastation, the Gohei still clutched in her hands, though its shimmering power had begun to fade. Her shrine maiden robes were tattered and dust-streaked, her hair disheveled, but her posture was steady. She turned slowly, surveying the battlefield with the piercing clarity of her Nichiren Byakugan.

What she saw confirmed what she had already suspected. The other two mountains, once flanking the battlefield like silent sentinels, had met similar fates. Their towering forms had been obliterated, their slopes scarred by titanic clashes. Great fissures marred the land where the Sanrō once stood, and the air was thick with the scent of scorched earth and ozone. Each mountain had borne witness to battles of unparalleled scale, and none had survived.

She exhaled deeply, a misty cloud forming in the frigid air. The battles were over. Her allies had fought valiantly, their efforts ensuring the defeat of their formidable foes. Though she couldn't see them now, she felt the flickers of their chakra—wounded, exhausted, but alive. Relief tempered the weight in her chest, though it did little to erase the ache of exhaustion that permeated her body. She tightened her grip on the Gohei and began her descent through the ruins. The destruction they had wrought was a grim reminder of the stakes they faced.

Kijin had been defeated, but his warning about Amaterasu lingered in her mind, casting a long shadow over their hard-won victory.

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Chapter End

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AN: This third dance is perhaps the most abstract of my ideas, so I would like to talk about the inspirations and the inner-workings behind this one.

First, I'll start with the name. Byakuren: San no Mai—Kagura（白蓮・参の舞・神楽）or "The Third Dance of the White Lotus—Kagura." The San no Mai part is keeping with tradition of following the naming scheme of Rukai's Shikai from Bleach. Kagura is a ritualistic dance performed by Miko（巫女）or Shrine Maidens, to divine oracles from the gods. One important tool in this ritual is the Gohei（御幣）or a kind of wand, that the Shrine Maiden's use as part of their dance. For quick reference to what I was imagining, then please consider Hakurei Reimu from the Touhou games.

Now for the dance itself, I incorporated the Hakke（八卦）or the Eight Trigrams, the green markings you see below the feet of any Hyūga character before they use the Sixty-Four Palms strike and its variations. Written inside this trigram, there are Japanese characters, or Kanji. It's possible for there to be up to 64 of them, and this dance is able to make use of them all, divining meaning and power from the character selected. I divided the circles of characters into 8, 28, and 28. The first 8 are used as the kind of prime characters, their meaning often associated with the elements. By combining them in different ways, you can get the other 56 characters, which can be split into a "lower" tier and an "upper" tier. If you're curious and want more information about how I envisioned it, then I recommend going to the English Wikipedia and typing in "Bagua", then scrolling down to the Hexagram lookup table.

So there you have it. The third dance is a combination of a Shinto Ritual, where Hinata dances as a Shrine Maiden to call upon the power of a Hindu Goddess, Kali, to divine powers from the Daoist symbol of the Hakke. I know that's kind of a lot of inspirations, and all from different cultures, but I was very excited to bring this to you, so I hope it wasn't so convoluted that you couldn't enjoy it.

One final translation note, Kijin's final attack, the Chigiri（血切）can be translated as "Blood cutter" which is much more simple and straight-forward than Hinata's technique.