The atmosphere in the Mizukage's hall turned even heavier, the weight of unspoken challenge settling in the air like a dense mist. Renjiro was not sure if this was all a part of their act or their natural reactions as he wasn't sure if everyone present was filled in on their plan but anyway. Either way, Renjiro decided to go with the flow.
The Silence stretched after the swordsman's proposal, but it was the Six-Tails jinchūriki, Juro, who broke it first.
"What do you mean?" Juro's voice was sharp, his tone laced with irritation as he snapped his head toward the swordsman who had interrupted his claim to battle Renjiro.
His eyes flickered with annoyance, the glow of his chakra subtly surfacing in response to his growing frustration. To him, this was nothing short of an insult. It was as if his prey was being stolen away right in front of him. He had been the one to challenge Renjiro first and had been the one to corner him into a response.
And yet now, this so-called comrade of his had stepped in and redirected the challenge to himself.
Renjiro, meanwhile, was now more preoccupied with figuring out which of the legendary Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist he was going to be dealing with.
'I wonder which of the Ninja Swordsmen he is…'
While Renjiro had extensive knowledge of their names and the legendary swords they wielded, he had never actually seen them in person. Their appearances were not as widely known, at least not to the point of reaching Renjiro's ears. He could identify their swords at a glance, but their faces? That was another matter entirely.
'He can't be Konno Momoe or Honda Minako,' Renjiro mused, mentally eliminating the only two female members of the group. 'Momoe wields the Kubikiribōchō, and Minako has the Shibuki sword.'
That last realization brought a twinge of disappointment.
'Damn. If I was going to fight one of them, I would've preferred going against the Shibuki wielder.'
As a fūinjutsu specialist and lover, Renjiro had always been fascinated by the mechanics of explosive tags. The idea of clashing against a sword that actively incorporated them into its attacks? That would've been more of a dream than a fight. It would have been a challenge in a way that actually intrigued him.
But alas, that wasn't the case.
'He also can't be Date Yuichi since I already killed that guy, and Kiri never managed to replace him because his sword ended up in Konoha's hands.' That only left four other possible swordsmen.
A smirk almost tugged at his lips.
'Great. Just great. That means I could be dealing with Samehada, Kiba, Nuibari, or Hiramekarei… Any of which would be interesting to fight but not as interesting as the Shibuki sword.'
Even as his thoughts churned, he remained aware of the ongoing exchange between Juro and the swordsman.
The latter finally spoke, addressing Juro in a tone that carried both deference and conviction.
"I mean no offence, Juro-sama," he said smoothly, keeping his voice respectful, "but this matter concerns more than just your challenge."
Juro narrowed his eyes. "Oh?"
The swordsman nodded, then turned his gaze toward Renjiro. "This boy," he continued, "defeated Date Yuichi, the former wielder of Kabutowari. Konoha has had possession of the sword ever since, and we, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, have been unable to replace him."
A hush fell over the room.
Renjiro noted how some of the onlookers stiffened at the reminder of Yuichi's death. Even Juro's expression shifted, his irritation momentarily overridden by words.
The swordsman pressed on.
"This has brought shame upon us," he admitted, voice unwavering despite the weight of his words. "We have been waiting for the opportunity to avenge our fallen comrade and return honour to our group."
Juro scoffed but didn't immediately argue. The swordsman had spoken carefully, choosing his words in a way that wouldn't provoke outright hostility. He had acknowledged Juro's superiority in power and authority while still making his case.
Renjiro, meanwhile, fought the urge to roll his eyes.
'Why are they wasting time?'
At this point, he was certain this had been pre-planned. They were dragging this out purely for the theatrics, and he was sure some of them were enjoying wasting his time.
Finally, the Mizukage himself intervened.
"Yuji," the Kage spoke, his voice even but laced with scrutiny, "are you sure about this?"
'So it's Sakurai Yuji?'
Renjiro's sharp eyes flickered toward the swordsman, now with full recognition.
'Fine. I can handle the Kiba swords.'
For just a moment, the corner of his lips curled into the faintest smirk before he forced himself to remain composed. He knew the Mizukage had caught that brief reaction, but he didn't care.
Hiroshi studied him for a beat before finally turning to Renjiro directly.
"Well, what do you think?"
Renjiro tilted his head, regarding Sakurai Yuji with quiet amusement. Then, with deliberate slowness, he spoke.
"Fine. I agree to the challenge."
There was a shift in the air, a palpable sense of anticipation rising.
Renjiro continued before anyone could react.
"Since I will not be getting anything in return for indulging you," he added, his tone almost casual, "I'll give you the option of choosing another shinobi to help you, perhaps another swordsman of the mist. After all, I already defeated one of you, so I have to find a way to make this challenging for me."
Silence.
Complete, deafening silence.
Even the Mizukage seemed at a loss for words.
A dark shadow passed over the faces of the assembled shinobi as they grasped the hidden insult in Renjiro's words. He had openly demeaned the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, implying that fighting one of them alone wasn't enough of a challenge. And worse? He had backed it up with facts.
They couldn't even refute him.
Renjiro basked in the feeling of their reactions.
'You wanted a show? he thought. Fine. I'll give you one.'
They had planned on cornering him, on forcing him into a situation where he had to prove himself. Well, he had just returned the favour, and now they were the ones struggling to respond.
Then, unexpectedly, Sakurai Yuji laughed.
It was a full, genuine laugh, one that echoed through the hall and broke the tense atmosphere.
"I like your spirit," Yuji said, grinning. "Fine, then."
He turned to the two other men standing nearby.
"Jurou. Seiji." His voice was firm, commanding. "It's time we restore the honor of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist."
The two other men present in the hall stepped forward, their expressions unreadable but their eyes alight with determination.
Yuji turned back to Renjiro. "Since you wanted to make it challenging, three of us shouldn't be too much, right?"
Renjiro barely batted an eye. He exhaled through his nose, a small smirk returning to his lips.
"Since only three are available at the moment," he said smoothly, "That will do."
That was the moment the Mizukage's composure finally cracked.
Renjiro caught it—the slight twitch in the Kage's brow, the subtle way his fingers curled against the armrest of his chair.
And then—pop.
A vein visibly bulged on the Mizukage's forehead.
For the first time since Renjiro had met him at the Kage Summit, Hiroshi's mask of control faltered. Giving hints to his real face.
The others in the room had even stronger reactions.
Some clenched their fists, while others fought the overwhelming urge to attack Renjiro outright. His words had driven the metaphorical nail even deeper into Kirigakure's pride, hammering down the insult he had just delivered.
The Mizukage stood.
His presence was immediate, commanding the room's attention with a single motion.
"Well," Hiroshi said, voice calm but carrying unmistakable authority, "since the challenge has been accepted, we should move to the training grounds to see it through."
And with that, the confrontation was sealed.
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