The sound of the waves crashed against the hull of the ship, yet on deck, there was only silence.
Kaida took another step forward, his sword glistening under the sunlight, his gaze cold. Across from him, Ryuga stood frozen, his grip tightening around the hilt of his blade.
'Maybe saying all those things was not necessary,' he thought, controlling his body from showing any sign of fear he was feeling.
And yet, something inside him rebelled against it, a tiny shiver kept on shaking his body now and then. But in front of an enemy, showing signs of fear was the same as sentencing oneself to death.
'I was a Jonin of Kirigakure, a warrior of blood and steel, forged in the brutal traditions of the Bloody Mist. I could not—no, I would not—allow myself to cower before a child, no matter what.'
With a deep breath, Ryuga forced his fear into the depths of his soul, replacing it with resolve. He exhaled, his muscles relaxing, his stance shifting. The panic faded. His mind cleared. And then—
He understood.
The blade in his hand felt different, as if for the first time, he could feel the very essence of steel itself, the flow of the battle, the breath of the world around him. Everything slowed, his senses sharpened, and in that moment, his control over the sword increased to the next degree.
His eyes gleamed with newfound determination. If he was going to die here, then he would not die as some nameless fool slaughtered in an instant. He would show this boy—the world—that his sword had meaning. His life had meaning.
Kaida tilted his head, sensing the shift in his opponent's aura. A subtle smirk formed on his lips. "You finally stopped shaking. Good. Show me what you've got."
Ryuga didn't waste a second. He exploded forward, the blade in his hand moving with such fluidity that it was as if the blade had vanished and reappeared in different positions within the same breath. Kaida barely twisted his head to avoid a strike aimed at his throat, his Sharingan tracing every subtle shift in Ryuga's muscles.
Steel met steel, sparks flying as the sound of clashing blades shattered the quiet night. Ryuga's sword danced with newfound grace, his movements so refined, so precise, that for a brief moment, it looked as if he had reached a level only few swordsmen ever achieved.
'Maybe...' a thought came out from the depths of desperation, producing a spark of hope in his heart. With newfound hope and determination, Ryuga kept on attacking from unconventional angles, each strike containing the momentum of the previous one as well, each becoming more lethal than before.
Just when he thought he was about to land an attack on the monstrous boy, a single parry disrupted Ryuga's flow, but the Jonin recovered instantly, launching a flurry of slashes that even a seasoned warrior would struggle to follow. He was faster than before, sharper, his strikes guided by instinct and clarity. He knew he had never fought this well in his entire life.
And yet—
Kaida was faster.
Each of Ryuga's perfect strikes was intercepted effortlessly, Kaida's Sharingan predicting every feint, every shift in weight, every tiny adjustment before the blade even moved. It was a battle between an artist who had finally completed his masterpiece and a god who had already seen it a thousand times before.
"You...!" Ryuga gritted his teeth. He had expended shit tons of his chakra during the whole duration to fill the ship with mist, the mist which had the property of inducing mild hallucinations, a subtle genjutsu.
He had eliminated various enemies way stronger than him during his chunin days. Feeling the mist had reached the desired density, his blade twisted mid-strike to change the angle of his attack. The move was brilliant—an unpredictable variation of an old Mist technique that even the greatest swordsmen of his village would have struggled to counter.
But, Kaida didn't struggle.
With a simple step to the side, he evaded the blade completely, his own sword flashing forward like lightning.
Ryuga barely had time to react before he felt it—
The cold bite of steel against his flesh.
He staggered, staring down at the deep gash that now ran across his chest, blood pouring freely. There were various other small slashes on his body, but he had ignored them till now because they were not life threatening. But seeing their location now, that boy had intentionally done this. He could have ended this fight way before. But 'he was toying with me...' His sword slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the wooden deck. His newfound clarity, his enlightenment, his ultimate technique—none of it had mattered.
The power gap was too great.
His knees buckled, his body growing numb as he fell backward, his vision blurring. He had thought, just for a moment, that he could win—that his sword could carve his name into history.
But in the end, he had only been another corpse beneath the sky.
Kaida flicked the blood off his blade and turned away, stepping over the fallen Jonin without another glance.
The battle was over.
And Ryuga... was nothing more than another forgotten soul lost to the sea.
...
"Welcome back, boy," Taizen said, as Kaida came back to the ship, while he heard a collective sigh of relief from many of his teammates. When the enemy Jonin covered his ship in mist, everyone on his team became agitated. He was even planning on going for Kaida's rescue, as this technique had taken more lives than he would like to remember at that moment.
The famed blood mist technique of Kirigakure. But before he could even prepare himself to go to the death zone, the mist started to disperse and Kaida was back to their ship. He could understand why all of his teammates were relieved. If they lost their young prodigy for something like this, 'I don't even want to think what would happen then.'
"Thanks, captain."
"Oh boy, that was badass. I initially thought you were being overconfident about your strength, but man, was I wrong. How the hell are you this strong at this age?" Akito said, ruffling Kaida's hair.
"Hahaha, I am still not that strong. You will understand once you meet my brother," Kaida said.
"Oh yeah, I forgot you were brother of Shisui Uchiha. Maybe it is in the blood," Fushiro said, with a smile.
"Praises aside, we now have to think what we have to do with that ship," Taizen said, gesturing towards the ship.
Normally the pirates don't have much bigger ships than a boat, and if the off chance there were some bigger ships, it was almost certain that there would be ninjas on the ship as well.
And in fighting against such a crew, the ship either gets destroyed, or blown up out of spite to not give the enemy any loot. So getting a ship of that size was not a normal occurrence at all.
"Well, we can't leave that here. That is millions of Ryo floating there," Fushiro said.
"Maybe we can make a return trip, since it is only four hours ride. One of us can go and deliver that ship to the port, and then come back to join us," Akito said.
"There's no ship to our destination for the next two days. How the hell will he come back?" Fushiro said.
"Why would he come back?" Kaida asked, getting everyone's attention to himself.
"I mean, they can just wait there till the village somehow retrieves the ship. I am sure we will do fine with even one less member," Kaida finally gave his suggestion.
"Well, we should first consult with our client. From what I heard, he wanted 20 Jonin, so maybe he would not like the idea of losing one of his guards when he got less first hand," Taizen said and sent Akito to bring the merchants back to the deck.