Before the words left his mouth, the killing intent arrived.
It wasn't a sound. It was a pressure on the skin.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Three blurry figures tore through the white wall of the mist. Their swords flashed with cold, lethal light.
"Right side, diagonal chop," the Swordsman Spirit barked the coordinates instantly. "Left rear, kidney stab. Front, leg sweep. You are the priority target."
To a normal Genin—or even a Chunin—blinded by the Hidden Mist, this was a checkmate. They would be diced before they knew they were under attack.
But Kiyohara had a cheat code.
He didn't think. He trusted the voice.
He stomped his foot.
His core muscles—tortured for days by the massive Stone Rod—contracted instantly.
His body twisted like a compressed spring, snapping diagonally backward. The leg sweep from the front missed him by an inch.
Clang!
Sparks flew in the fog.
Kiyohara's right hand brought his Kunai up, parrying the diagonal chop from the right.
"Kiyohara! Behind you!" Kurenai screamed, seeing the shadow he hadn't blocked.
Kiyohara's expression didn't change.
He sank his shoulder. He twisted his hips.
'Waist and Horse as One.'
The rotation generated from his core whipped his upper body around. The kidney stab grazed his vest but found no flesh.
"What?"
The Mist Ninja was stunned. 'He dodged? In zero visibility?'
Kiyohara didn't hesitate. The kinetic energy from his dodge was now loaded into his shoulder.
He unleashed it.
He chopped down with the Kunai, aiming not for the armor, but for the gap in the shoulder blade—the precise moment between the enemy's exhaustion of old force and generation of new force.
Pfft!
The blade sank deep.
The ninja screamed. His sword clattered to the forest floor as he stumbled back, clutching his shoulder.
"Not bad," the Swordsman praised. "Now, clear the field."
"Right."
Kiyohara's hands blurred.
Tiger. Ox. Dog. Rabbit. Snake.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
WHOOSH!
A compressed blast of air hammered the injured ninja, sending him tumbling back into the fog.
Kiyohara spun, slapping his hand on the ground.
Ram. Snake. Tiger.
"Lightning Release: Earth Flash!"
CRACKLE!
A blue snake of electricity tore through the mud. The second attacker, who was winding up for a strike, convulsed as the current locked his muscles.
It was over in three seconds.
Two enemies neutralized.
Kakashi stood nearby, his visible "dead fish eye" widened in shock.
He had been preparing a rescue, but Kiyohara didn't need it.
'When did he get this good at Taijutsu?' Kakashi wondered. 'He used to be a backline support... was he hiding his strength?'
Rin and Genma were equally stunned. They just saw Kiyohara dance through the fog, a blur of motion and sparks.
Kiyohara panted, feeling the burn in his arm.
'90% of that was the Spirit's warning,' he admitted. 'But the body... the body held up.'
He threw a shuriken to finish off the paralyzed ninja.
As it hit, a sound like a thousand birds chirping erupted from the left.
CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP!
"Raikiri!"
Kakashi became a blue flash. Guided by the noise of Kiyohara's fight, he lunged.
His hand, wreathed in high-density lightning, punched through the chest of the third attacker.
The scream was cut short.
Two down. One dead.
But the leader remained.
Mizunami, the Mist Jonin, watched his squad die with cold indifference.
He drew the weapon from his back.
It wasn't a katana. It was an Odachi—a greatsword longer than a man's torso.
"Konoha brats," Mizunami growled. "Don't get arrogant!"
He exploded forward.
He ignored Kakashi. He charged straight for Kiyohara, the exhausted link in the chain.
WHOOSH!
The Odachi cleaved the mist, descending like a guillotine aimed at Kiyohara's skull. The pressure was immense—this was the strike of a Kenjutsu specialist.
"Kiyohara!" Rin screamed.
Kakashi was too far. He had just used Raikiri; his speed was on cooldown.
Kiyohara scooped up a dropped Mist sword from the ground.
It was unfamiliar. Heavy. Unbalanced.
'I can't block this,' he realized. 'He'll crush my guard.'
"Future Me!" Kiyohara shouted internally. "Take the wheel!"
"Possession Link: Active."
"Very well," the Swordsman's voice was calm. "It's been a while since I danced."
Kiyohara's posture changed instantly.
His knees bent. His breathing shifted rhythm. The panic vanished from his eyes, replaced by the stillness of a frozen lake.
The Odachi came down.
Kiyohara didn't block.
He stepped into the guard.
He traced a soft, circular arc with his borrowed sword.
CLANG!
He didn't hit the blade edge-on. He struck the Node of Vibration—the weak point on the blade where force is transferred but stability is lowest.
He applied lateral pressure.
Mizunami felt his wrist go numb.
His devastating overhead chop didn't stop, but it slid. It was deflected harmlessly to the side, slicing into the mud.
It felt like hitting a ball of spinning cotton. His force was neutralized, not opposed.
"What?!"
Mizunami's eyes bulged.
To deflect a heavy weapon with a light one required master-level technique.
'How is that possible? He's a kid! He was using a Kunai five seconds ago!'
Kiyohara—possessed by the spirit—smiled thinly.
He held the sword with the ease of a veteran who had swung a blade a million times.
"Is it hard to understand?" the Spirit mocked, speaking through Kiyohara's mouth.
"To me... your swordsmanship is like a toddler waving a stick."
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