Chapter 3: An Emperor's Personal Attention
A sharp, racking groan tore from Darui's lips as he pushed himself up from the crater of splintered wood and disturbed earth. His ribs screamed in protest, and a dull ache throbbed through his entire body. That single, casual gesture from Julius had hit with the force of a rampaging tailed beast. Gravity release, Darui surmised, his mind already analyzing, and on a level I've never encountered.
Before he could fully reorient himself, a flicker of movement registered in his peripheral vision. He instinctively tensed, hand flying to the hilt of his folded Cleaver Sword.
Julius Novachrono stood before him, not ten feet away, his regal red robe unstained, his blond hair untouched by the violent displacement he'd just caused. The serene, almost pitying smile was still firmly in place.
"Commander Darui, I trust your impromptu flight wasn't too jarring?" Julius inquired, his purple eyes glinting with an unreadable emotion. "My apologies for the rough landing. Precision with such raw power can sometimes be… elusive."
Darui spat out a fleck of blood, his gaze hardening. "You pack a hell of a punch for someone who looks like they belong at a tea ceremony, 'Emperor'."
Julius chuckled softly. "Appearances can be deceiving, can they not? Rest assured, your comrades are being… adequately entertained by a part of myself. I, however, thought it only proper to give the commander of this little expedition my personal attention."
Darui's grip tightened on his sword. He could hear the distant sounds of combat – explosions, the sharp crackle of lightning (his men's, he hoped), and other, more alien noises that sent a shiver of unease down his spine. His men were elite, but if this was the power of the original…
"So, this is it then?" Darui said, his voice low and steady, the earlier anger now tempered by a grim resolve. "You going to monologue about your grand plans before you try to finish me off? Seems to be the style for guys like you." Despite the bravado, he was already formulating strategies, assessing his opponent.
Julius's smile widened slightly. "Monologue? Perhaps a brief elucidation. Consider it a professional courtesy. You see, Commander, your Raikage, in his… boisterous enthusiasm, has stumbled into something far beyond his comprehension. He seeks to assert dominance where he should be offering fealty. A common error among the 'flawed'."
"Fealty?" Darui scoffed, finally drawing his Cleaver Sword, the segments unfolding with a series of sharp clicks into a formidable broad blade. "Kumo bows to no one, especially not some self-proclaimed ruler hiding out in demon territory." Chakra began to coat his blade, a faint shimmer of blue. "Lightning Release!"
"Demon territory no longer, Commander. It is the Land of Serenity, the foundation of a new, more perfect world," Julius corrected, his tone patient, as if explaining a simple concept to a child. "And I am its architect."
Darui didn't wait for further explanation. With a burst of speed that belied his earlier injuries, he lunged. His lightning-infused cleaver aimed for Julius's neck, a swift, decisive strike designed to end the fight before it truly began. He was fast, incredibly so, a blur of motion that would have overwhelmed most opponents.
Julius didn't move. Not in the conventional sense.
Just as the supercharged blade was a hair's breadth from his throat, it stopped. Not blocked, not parried. It simply hung in the air, inches from its target, vibrating with frustrated energy. Darui felt an immense, crushing pressure emanating from Julius, locking his arm, his sword, his very body in place. Gravity Magic.
"Predictable," Julius sighed, his purple eyes looking directly into Darui's widened ones. "Speed and power. The cornerstones of Kumo's might, are they not? Admirable, in their own way. But so easily… contained."
With a flick of his wrist, Julius redirected the immense gravitational force. Darui was wrenched sideways, his attack aborted, and slammed violently into the trunk of a massive tree. The impact was bone-jarring, knocking the air from his lungs.
"You rely on what you can see, what you can predict based on conventional combat," Julius continued, taking a leisurely step closer as Darui gasped for breath. "But the true powers that shape reality operate on a different stratum."
Darui pushed himself off the tree, grit and determination etched on his face. "Dull… really dull," he muttered, shaking his head to clear the spots from his vision. "So, it's gravity, huh? Nasty trick." He raised his sword again, this time taking a more defensive stance. "Alright, Emperor. Let's see what else you've got."
Juliua extended a hand towards Darui. From his palm, a single, impossibly sharp shard of bone, almost needle-like but radiating an unnatural density, shot forth. "Bone Magic: Piercing Lance."
Darui channeled chakra, his hands forming a series of seals. "Water Release: Water Formation Wall!"
A massive torrent of water erupted from the ground around Darui, swirling upwards to form a protective, translucent barrier. It was a standard defensive jutsu, but executed with a Kumo commander's precision and power.
The bone shard struck the swirling water wall. Instead of being deflected or slowed, it tore through the water with barely a ripple, as if the dense liquid offered no resistance at all. It continued its trajectory, aimed directly at Darui's chest.
Darui's eyes widened. He twisted his body at the last possible second, the bone lance grazing his side, drawing blood and tearing through his Kumo flak jacket. It wasn't a deep wound, but the ease with which it bypassed his defense was alarming.
"My bones are not mere calcium, Commander," Julius explained, his voice calm. "They are an extension of my will, imbued with a nature that transcends simple physical matter."
Darui gritted his teeth against the stinging pain. This was bad. His opponent could neutralize his defenses with contemptuous ease and wield attacks that defied conventional understanding. He needed to create distance, to utilize his ranged capabilities.
"Storm Release: Laser Circus!"
Darui's hands flashed through seals, and a halo of bright energy spread around them. Multiple beams of crackling, light-infused energy shot out, zipping through the air like guided missiles, all converging on Julius from various angles.
Julius watched their approach, his expression unchanging. Instead of dodging or erecting a barrier, he simply… allowed them to hit.
The beams of Storm Release energy slammed into his body. Explosions of light and sound rocked the clearing. Dust and debris were kicked up, obscuring Julius from view.
Darui tensed, ready to press the attack if there was an opening, or defend if his opponent emerged unscathed – which, given what he'd seen so far, seemed depressingly likely.
As the dust settled, Julius stood exactly where he had been, his red robe slightly singed in a few places, but otherwise, he appeared completely unharmed. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer seemed to ripple across his skin where the beams had struck, before fading. Body Magic. He had tanked the direct hits, his very flesh reinforced and regenerating minor damage almost instantaneously.
"Impressive energy output, Commander Darui," Julius complimented, brushing a non-existent speck of dust from his sleeve. "Storm Release, is it? A rare and potent combination. Such a shame its wielder lacks the vision to apply it to a truly grand purpose."
Darui was starting to feel a genuine sense of frustration, a feeling he rarely encountered in battle. "You just… took that? What the hell are you?"
"I am the future," Julius replied simply. "And you, Commander, are an obstacle."
Julius extended both hands, palms open. From holes that seemed to momentarily form in his palms, dozens of sharp-pointed bone fragments began to emerge, rotating at high speed. "Bone Magic: Bone Bullets."
But before he launched them, a new, more disturbing element was added. From those same openings, and perhaps from unseen pores on his arms, high-pressure streams of crimson blood erupted. "Blood Magic: Jets of Blood!"
These sanguine streams didn't just spray wildly; they unerringly converged with the spinning bone bullets, coating them, engulfing them, and acting as a propellant. The blood wasn't just decorative; it visibly bolstered the speed and kinetic force of each bone projectile. They transformed from mere sharp fragments into blood-red, supercharged harbingers of pain, leaving crimson trails in the air as they prepared to launch, the sound a low, ominous hum mixed with a wet, visceral hiss.
"Let's escalate this slightly, shall we?" Julius suggested, his voice still holding that unnerving calm, but his purple eyes now held a colder, more predatory light. The air around his hands thrummed with the combined power of bone and blood, promising a barrage far more devastating than simple bone shards.
Darui felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. His initial assessment had been a gross understatement. This "Julius Novachrono" wasn't just powerful; he was monstrous, wielding a combination of abilities that seemed designed to systematically dismantle any opponent. His own considerable arsenal felt distressingly inadequate. But Darui was a Kumo shinobi, the Raikage's right hand. He wouldn't break.
"Dull," Darui muttered, gripping his Cleaver Sword tighter, black sparks beginning to dance along its edge – the first hint of his true power. "Guess I'll just have to get less dull then."
The real fight, he knew, was only just beginning. And the odds were terrifyingly stacked against him.