"Kirigakure Ryūsuke, we're not enemies here. Why not work together against the Suna forces?"
Clearly, Umino Yoru only wanted to lead the Konoha Hundred-Man Unit out of the Land of Rivers—not pick a fight with Kiri.
The Kirigakure Navy was overwhelmingly powerful—even Konoha couldn't match them, and only Kumogakure could rival them at sea. If they wanted to return to the Land of Fire by water, it was best not to provoke these Kiri madmen.
"White Blood Demon, if you want to cooperate with the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, your little squad isn't qualified."
Kirigakure Ryūsuke sneered, utterly dismissive of the Konoha forces.
He'd already scouted them—their actual combat strength was pitiful. Their reputation was built on luck and ambush tactics, not real power. In a head-on fight, they couldn't even match a standard ninja battalion.
A force this weak? The Seven Ninja Swordsmen alone could slaughter them all—without breaking a sweat.
Ryūsuke's arrogance was palpable as he looked down on them like insects.
"You're Shirakumo Yamanaka, right? Your swordsmanship isn't bad." He pointed his blade at Yamanaka, his demeanor shifting from cold calculation to psychotic glee. "If you can last three moves against me, I'll make your death quick."
Yamanaka didn't waste words. He vanished in a shunshin, his sword flashing toward Ryūsuke's throat.
But Ryūsuke dodged effortlessly, weaving past each strike with mocking laughter.
"Too slow. Pathetically slow. How have you survived this long?"
"Vacuum Blade!"
Yamanaka's eyes sharpened. He reversed his grip and unleashed a barrage of wind blades.
This time, Ryūsuke didn't dodge. He swung his sword, slicing through the storm with his own sword aura.
"Good. Very good!"
Ryūsuke's laughter turned manic. "Shirakumo Yamanaka, you've earned the right to die by my blade!"
He blitzed forward, his greatsword descending like a guillotine.
"Shit—!"
Yoru's face darkened.
"Wind Breathing: First Form—Cleaving Fish Slash!"
He exploded into motion, his blade intercepting Ryūsuke's strike just in time.
Yamanaka staggered back, blood dripping from a shallow wound—but alive, thanks to Yoru's intervention.
"Oh? A swordsman, are you?" Ryūsuke's grin widened, his eyes glinting with bloodlust. "Interesting. Very interesting!"
His attacks grew more frenzied, each swing carrying enough force to split boulders.
Yoru activated Wind Breathing, his face markings flickering as he dodged and parried with explosive steps.
When Ryūsuke realized he couldn't overwhelm Yoru, he finally got serious.
"Sky-Rending Slash!"
Chakra condensed along his blade, tearing through the air itself.
"Wind Breathing: Second Form—Water Wheel Slash!"
The two techniques clashed, canceling each other out in a storm of wind and steel.
Then—Yoru's sword twisted unnaturally.
"Wind Breathing: Third Form—Phantom Willow!"
Suddenly, Ryūsuke saw willow branches coiling around him, warping space itself.
"Genjutsu?!"
He broke the illusion instantly, but the momentary lapse cost him—
"Too slow."
Yoru's blade grazed his throat, leaving a thin red line.
Ryūsuke licked the blood from his lips, his excitement boiling over.
"You almost took my head… How exhilarating!"
He formed hand signs, and with a puff of smoke—
"Twin Swords: Hiramekarei!"
Yoru's pupils contracted. "Who the hell are you?"
Ryūsuke's demeanor shifted again—cold, calculating, but no less bloodthirsty.
"A name is just a label. I can be Chagakure Ryūsuke, Hōzuki Ryūsuke… or anyone else."
"So you're the most mysterious wielder of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen."
Yoru's grip tightened.
The Seven Ninja Swordsmen were legendary—Zabuza, Kisame, the Demon Brothers—each a monster in their own right.
And this man? No exception.
But Yoru didn't call for backup. Instead, his fighting spirit burned hotter.
His hands blurred through seals—five per second—for several long seconds.
Ryūsuke didn't interrupt. He watched, intrigued.
"Three Heads, Six Arms Technique!"
Yoru's body warped, sprouting two extra heads and four additional arms.
"What the—?!"
Even the spectators stared in disbelief. This was no known jutsu.
This was Yoru's original creation—inspired by the Inuzuka's Three-Headed Wolf Transformation, but reimagined.
His goal wasn't raw power, like Inuzuka's beast forms.
It was efficiency.
Six arms meant uninterrupted hand signs.
Three heads meant flawless battlefield awareness.
(Though with his sonar radar, the latter was redundant.)
The technique was still incomplete, but its side benefits were undeniable—
Like his swordsmanship.
"Konoha Nine-Sword Style," Yoru declared, drawing five Suna jonin katanas from a scroll. "Let's dance."
With six blades (one in each hand), he was a walking fortress of steel.
Compared to Killer B's Eight-Sword Style, Yoru's Nine-Sword Style was more refined—no awkward limb grips, just pure, coordinated devastation.
"Nine-Sword Style?" Ryūsuke raised an eyebrow.
(It was clearly six swords, but semantics didn't matter.)
All that mattered was—
This fight just got a lot more fun.
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