The arena buzzed with excitement as the third day of the preliminaries continued. The crowd had barely recovered from Kaya Kaguya's cold, elegant victory when the proctor's voice cut through the chatter.
"Next match: Daigo Hagoromo, heir of the Hagoromo clan… versus Kyousuke Shimura, heir of the Shimura clan!"
The announcement drew a wave of murmurs. The Hagoromo were feared not just for their chakra-rich heritage, but for their possession of the Treasured Tools of the Sage of Six Paths. The Shimura, though less renowned than the Uchiha or Senju, had earned respect for their discipline, wind mastery, and cunning strategies.
Keiji Uchiha leaned forward in his seat, eyes narrowing. Beside him, his shiny Gengar hovered cross-legged in the air, glowing grin stretching wide.
"Another powerhouse fight," Keiji murmured. "This one… it'll be less about elegance and more about raw ideology—force versus calculation."
Gengar's red eyes gleamed mischievously. "I like the one with the horns. He looks like trouble."
---
The Fighters Appear
Daigo Hagoromo strode into the arena like he owned it. His golden-and-silver armor gleamed under the sun, the crest of his clan etched into his broad chest plate. Blond-and-silver hair fanned like a lion's mane, and the black horns rising from his head made him look like a myth brought to life. His voice carried arrogance even in silence—every step boomed with the weight of confidence.
Opposite him, Kyousuke Shimura entered quietly. No pomp, no arrogance—only sharp calculation in his narrow eyes. His lean frame was clad in dark blue armor, his movements subtle but deliberate. His clan crest shone faintly against the reinforced plating on his forearms. He said nothing, but the tension in his stance suggested a predator waiting for the first mistake.
The contrast was stark: one was a storm of pride and power, the other a scalpel of calculation.
"Begin!"
---
Opening Moves
Kyousuke moved first, fingers flashing through seals.
"Wind Release: Gale Blade!"
A crescent of compressed air ripped across the battlefield, sharp enough to cleave stone.
Daigo scoffed, swinging the massive Bashōsen with one hand. A sheet of fire roared forth, devouring the wind and scorching the arena floor. The crowd gasped at the destructive display.
"Pathetic," Daigo muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.
Keiji folded his arms, frowning. "He's not just confident… he's drunk on his power. That kind of arrogance can kill—or dominate."
Gengar tilted his head, snickering. "He burns, he blows, he shocks… shiny toy fan makes him a cheat code."
---
Strategy vs. Power
Kyousuke wasn't rattled. His eyes narrowed, calculating the rhythm of Daigo's swings. He leapt back, weaving more seals.
"Summoning Jutsu!"
Smoke burst, and from it emerged the Baku—a massive, elephantine beast with a gaping maw that sucked air, chakra, and debris alike. The arena floor trembled as the suction pulled dust, rocks, and even strands of Daigo's chakra toward its abyssal mouth.
The audience roared in shock. To wield the Baku was a feat rarely seen, even among seasoned warriors of Shimura Clan.
Daigo grinned, planting the Bashōsen into the ground. With a mighty sweep, he generated Earth Release, spikes jutting up to anchor him against the pull. "Is that all the Shimura can do? Borrow strength from beasts?"
Kyousuke used the suction as cover, darting forward with chakra-infused fists.
"Wind Release: Vacuum Palm Barrage!"
His strikes landed on Daigo's joints, slipping between plates of armor. For a heartbeat, the crowd thought the tide might shift.
Keiji's lips curved slightly. "Not bad… He's turning the fan's weight and Daigo's arrogance against him."
But then, Daigo laughed.
---
Treasured Tools Unleashed
Daigo swung the Bashōsen high, flames erupting to drive the Baku back. With his free hand, he unsheathed the glowing Shichiseiken. The Seven Star Sword shimmered, runes pulsing as it inscribed Kyousuke's last words into its blade.
Kyousuke's eyes widened. He knew what came next.
Daigo's grin was feral as he lifted the Benihisago, the Crimson Gourd. Its lid glowed with hungry anticipation.
"Shimura Kyousuke… speak again, and you'll seal yourself."
The crowd hushed in awe and terror. The heir of the Hagoromo clan wasn't merely fighting—he was reenacting legends with weapons said to shape nations.
---
Desperate Counter
Kyousuke bit his tongue, forcing silence. He dashed backward, weaving one last desperate jutsu.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
A hurricane-like blast ripped through the field, amplified by the Baku's suction into a whirling vortex. Dust and rubble filled the arena, visibility dropping to nothing.
For an instant, it seemed Daigo might actually falter, pushed back by the compounded storm.
Keiji's Sharingan flickered, analyzing. "He's gambling everything on misdirection. He thinks if he can disrupt Daigo's rhythm long enough, he might force a slip…"
But when the dust cleared, Daigo was still standing—unshaken, unfazed.
---
Decisive End
Through the swirling winds, Daigo unleashed the Bashōsen's fury. Fire roared, lightning cracked, water surged, earth spiked, and gusts of wind followed—all five chakra natures, one after another. The display was overwhelming, drowning out the Shimura heir's resistance.
Kyousuke's chakra flickered. His knees buckled, exhaustion sinking in.
Daigo's voice thundered: "Your strategies are nothing before overwhelming power!"
The Shichiseiken slashed forward, binding glowing kanji around Kyousuke's body. The Benihisago rattled violently, eager.
Kyousuke snarled, sweat dripping, blood in his mouth. He tried to remain silent—but as the kanji constricted, pain tore a single word from his throat.
"Damn—!"
The gourd roared, sucking him inside in a blinding flash of light.
The arena fell silent.
"Winner: Daigo Hagoromo!"
---
Aftermath
The crowd erupted in awe, fear, and wild speculation. To see the Treasured Tools wielded so ruthlessly was a reminder of how ancient relics could still shape destiny.
Daigo raised the fan high, basking in the roar of the spectators, pride swelling.
In the stands, Keiji's expression darkened. He rested his chin on his hand. "The Shimura heir… cunning, ruthless, sharp with wind release… It almost reminded me of another Shimura."
His thoughts flashed briefly to Danzō Shimura, the man who would one day scheme in Konoha's shadows. But Keiji dismissed it with a shake of his head. "No. That's just the clan's nature—calculated, pragmatic. This boy fought with his own will."
Gengar snickered, swinging its stubby arms like a fan. "But still… he got sucked like ramen noodles into that jar."
Keiji allowed himself a faint smirk. "True. And Daigo Hagoromo… He's more than just an heir. He's a storm wrapped in relics. If he keeps this up, he'll dominate the entire competition."
The drums sounded, signaling the day's matches were not yet over. The tension in the air thickened—rival heirs would soon rise, and the competition's blood would only burn hotter.
The proctor raised his voice, preparing to announce the next match.
"Next competitors—step forward!"
The arena hushed, anticipation crackling in the air.
Keiji leaned forward, Sharingan flickering, heart steady but sharp. Gengar's grin widened, eyes glowing red.
The stage was set for the next storm.
---
End of the Chapter
---