As he instinctively became aware of his own condition, he suddenly noticed a strange new chakra surging within him.
This constantly flowing chakra was not only repairing his body, making his physical form stronger, but also nullifying incoming ninjutsu. Blue steam-like radiance enveloped him, bursting outward in waves like the eye of a living storm.
The sheer force of this scene was staggering—so much so that even Tajima Uchiha's towering Susanoo could only manage to stand on equal footing.
Such powerful chakra.
Through his Sharingan, Tajima could clearly see the changes inside this shinobi's body. His injuries have completely healed. Has he awakened the body of a Sage? Or is it that inexplicable chakra that descended from the heavens?
But the fully restored Myōken Senju gave him no time to ponder.
In an instant, he sprang forward—moving faster than the limits of an ordinary three-tomoe Sharingan could follow—stepping through the air itself as he charged straight at Tajima's massive Susanoo.
Tajima's eyes, after all, were not Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan. Though his earlier barrage had shattered the Senju defenses with great force, he now faced the problem of dwindling stamina.
And retreat was no longer an option.
"Come!"
At his command, Susanoo surged upward, releasing a blast of wind pressure before compressing and wrapping tightly around his own body.
This was the Mangekyō Sharingan's attached technique—Susanoo: Martial God Armor.
But Myōken Senju charged fearlessly, driving a straight punch toward his foe's chest at such speed that the air itself failed to escape in time.
Tajima, clad in his Martial God Armor, was nearly a manifestation of the legendary Susanoo himself. His taijutsu spiked instantly, and combined with his terrifying Mangekyō insight, he met fist with fist.
The moment their blows collided, the Martial God and the mysterious chakra clashed head-on. The shockwave erupted outward from them, reducing everything in sight to drifting powder.
Yet even such an overwhelming strike was not the sum of their full power.
Neither man yielded—one arm deadlocked in that colossal clash while the other surged forward, chakra flooding their strikes. The second exchange was even more ferocious, and both were knocked backward by the immense force.
In an instant, their first exchange was over. Beyond the deafening sonic booms and relentless explosions, no one could clearly follow their movements.
The surrounding terrain was obliterated. Lesser shinobi couldn't even dream of joining combat at such a level, left only as spectators.
In moments, what had been the battlefield of two great forces became an arena for these two overwhelming presences.
With his Martial God Armor, Tajima's staying power was greatly increased—but he had no wish to drag this fight out, knowing his eyes were not Eternal Mangekyō.
He attacked again, faint arcs of lightning dancing over his form. Combined with his armor, his speed leapt even higher as he lunged for Myōken.
But Myōken, with years of taijutsu training, judged and controlled his power with lethal precision. Though slightly slower, his uncanny instincts and experience let him read Tajima's moves. His hands shot out, seizing Tajima's arm, body leaning back to redirect the attack into the open ground behind him.
Then, twisting in midair, his legs whipped counterclockwise before scything down toward Tajima's face.
"Senju Monstrous Strength Whirlwind!"
The devastating technique, backed by monstrous strength, tore toward Tajima. With one fist caught, Tajima drove the other upward to meet the blow, even as his Martial God Armor manifested a circular shield-like divine weapon.
The second clash exploded between them—Myōken's superior taijutsu and monstrous power forcing Tajima's second punch aside, but the shield absorbed the full brunt of the kick, leaving him unharmed.
The massive recoil sent searing pain through his legs, nearly shattering the bones. But the near-limitless chakra flooding his body kept repairing the damage. At the same time, a terrible burden began to bite back, racking him with agony.
The two combatants retreated apart. Tajima Uchiha's eyes twitched faintly, blood trailing down from beneath them.
"Impressive. To force me to use my divine tools with taijutsu alone—you can be proud of that." Tajima's voice was calm, though his chest ached fiercely. Even with divine protection, the shock of that strike had injured him internally.
"Though withholding one's name is common practice on the battlefield, you've earned the right to be remembered. What is your name?"
"Of the Forest Senju clan—Myōken Senju."
"Myōken Senju, is it?" Tajima's brows rose slightly. "I recall your clan's leader is Butsuma Senju. Why is he not here?"
"The clan head has more important matters to attend to. I'm enough for here." Myōken's trembling legs finally steadied. Even with his astonishing regenerative support, his leg bones were barely half-healed.
At that moment, two young Uchiha who had broken through the Senju lines returned—Madara Uchiha and his brother Izuna.
Izuna called out, "Clan Head, the Senju high command is gathered about ten kilometers ahead, and their leader is attempting to recapture the Eight-Tails with a Sage Clan monk."
The news spread like wildfire. Tajima immediately moved to the brothers' side, intercepting Myōken's attempt to silence them.
"Are you certain, Izuna?"
"Madara and I captured a Senju chunin squad. Under Sharingan genjutsu interrogation, their answers matched perfectly. The information is reliable."
Tajima laughed heartily. "As expected of my sons—well done."
"Even if you know, it won't help you." Myōken's voice was calm.
"Father, who is this man? How can he have such immense chakra?" Madara's Sharingan was already active, studying the formidable warrior who rivaled their father. That vast, fathomless chakra felt like an abyss beyond his control.
"A foe worthy of my full effort." Tajima waved a hand. "Madara, Izuna—your mission is complete. Withdraw."
They knew well this was a battle beyond them and retreated cautiously.
"Myōken Senju, my Sharingan sees your body's state clearly." Tajima's Martial God Armor drew a golden tachi from its back, the sword's chakra-laced edge carving web-like fissures into the ground with a mere graze.
Susanoo: Martial God Armor, complete form—Sword of Kusanagi and Mirror of Yata. In the Warring States era, this was peerless in attack and defense.
Myōken said nothing. His body was at its limits. Around him, time seemed to stretch, each second dividing into countless frames.
Mysterious chakra… if you have a will of your own, help me one last time.
"Hm?" Watching intently, Satsuki was surprised. This man's strength was negligible, but his willpower was terrifying. Through resonance with her Tenseigan's chakra, his plea had reached her mind—an almost impossible feat.
Mysterious chakra… if you have a will of your own, help me one last time.
The same call echoed again.
Satsuki understood his meaning.
Through exceptional taijutsu and the support of her Tenseigan chakra, Myōken had, on first touching the Eight Gates technique, reached the Seventh Gate, unleashing Kage-level might. Even so, he had only fought Tajima's Mangekyō to a draw. Against both of Tajima's divine tools, his only chance was the Eighth Gate.
But Myōken could not open it alone.
And even if he could, the Eighth Gate's fatal backlash was immediate. Below the Seventh, Satsuki could just barely keep his body from collapsing. With the Eighth, lacking special training or Yin–Yang Release, even her chakra's support would not save him.
A taijutsu master's awareness of his own body rivaled that of a skilled medic-nin. Such consequences could not be unknown to him. His desire to open the Eighth Gate meant only one thing—he had accepted his death.
Perhaps he meant to show a third path to power beyond strength and wisdom: the Eight Gates Formation, the art that fully unleashes a mortal's potential.
Satsuki closed her golden Tenseigan.
"Since my goal is already met, a little extra performance can't hurt."
In the next heartbeat, her golden eyes snapped open, and a world-shaking surge of chakra crossed time and space, flooding into Myōken.
This time, there were no restraints. Every limit, every safeguard in his body was torn away. Blood boiled from his pores, vaporizing into steam. Red light replaced the former blue, shining with a force many times greater.
Eight Gates Released Formation—Open!