Takama was being swept away by the wave from Gaara and the Suiton user's, dragged by the powerful current alongside Mifune. One of the enemy warriors seemed to be deliberately letting the wave carry him as well—his presence, sharp and defined, was unmistakable. As the torrent subsided along the coastline, his aura cut through the air like a blade. The sword in his hand bore the signs of relentless use, a weapon honed in the pursuit of perfection. His crimson hair marked his lineage clearly—Uzumaki—and the energy surrounding him was unmistakable. Only a legend of that clan could radiate such presence.
Takama spoke without hesitation, his voice calm and certain. "You're the Edge of the Sea, aren't you?"
The warrior fixed his gaze on Takama and Mifune, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire. At last, he spoke. "I am Shogo Uzumaki, Edge of the Sea. My true opponent was meant to be the Silver Lady… It's a shame I couldn't find her. I was eager to cross blades with her—her style intrigued me."
Mifune narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone measured but resolute. "If the stories are true, he possesses two of the Uzumaki clan's greatest gifts… and yet, he's known above all for his swordsmanship. We'll need everything we have to face him properly."
Shogo's lips curved into a smirk, a fire lighting in his eyes. The presence of two master swordsmen before him only deepened his desire to test the edge of his blade. "Then I suppose I'll have to settle for a duel against the Soul Cutter and the Mist Walker. Your reputations haven't gone unnoticed in this war. It will be an honor to cross swords with you both."
Shogo Uzumaki, Edge of the Sea vs Takama Gin & Mifune
The silence broke with a single step: Takama launched forward with an explosive burst of strength enhanced by the Blooming Fire Breath, his katana glowing with heat from his searing chakra. Mifune followed, shifting smoothly into the Mist Breath, moving almost silently.
Shogo met them with the calmness of still water. His sword parried Takama's powerful downward arc with minimal motion, then twisted just enough to evade Mifune's gliding strike. His feet barely moved. It was as if his body predicted the rhythm of battle before it began.
Takama exhaled sharply. "Again."
The second exchange came like a storm. Takama abandoned basic forms and shifted into more advanced movements—Blooming Fire Breath – Fast and Slow Ascendants, alternating tempos to create a terrifying, fluid disorientation. Mifune lunged with a slicing feint that turned into a piercing thrust. Shogo did not counterattack—he redirected, his blade dancing like a falling leaf, intercepting Takama's impossible cadence while reflecting Mifune's nearly imperceptible strike.
"He's not just sensing... he's listening to our intentions," Mifune said between breaths.
"Not enough." Takama focused and inhaled deeply. The temperature around him rose, water beginning to evaporate as he unleashed a forbidden technique only made possible by his body's strength—Blooming Fire Breath – Ninth Form: Dying Nova. Abandoning all subtlety, his explosive technique pushed his speed beyond natural limits, his sword carving flames into the air with every movement. He clashed directly with Shogo, forcing full engagement. Mifune took the cue, hiding behind Takama's pressure and slashing from blind angles, his sword wrapped in mist born from Takama's heat.
Shogo was finally forced to retreat. A flash of true effort showed in his eyes. For the first time in a long time, his defense required real exertion.
Then… a pulse.
Golden chains burst from Shogo's back, spinning and anchoring into the ground. Each one buzzed with sealing power, forming a spiraling web of control.
Takama's expression sharpened. "He's using Uzumaki Golden Chains."
With the chains in motion, the battle changed. Shogo's sword moved in concert with the golden restraints—blocking, binding, and countering all at once. Mifune's Mist Dance was halted mid-stride as a chain wrapped around his blade. Takama powered through with a strike infused with all his strength—surprising Shogo, as Takama's sword was able to cut through his chains. But Shogo turned with a single, elegant twist and sent him sliding back across the sand.
The next moments passed in a blinding fury: slashes, pulses, golden flares, sparks—and then silence.
Takama stood with his blade lowered, blood staining the edge of his coat. Golden chains bound him from all sides, sealing his chakra and the impossible fire around him—yet none dared touch his sword. Mifune knelt on one knee, breathing heavily, a faint smile beneath a grimace, pinned to the ground by three golden hooks.
Shogo sheathed his katana with a reverent gesture.
"…Takama, the Soul Cutter… Mifune, the Mist Walker… you are both remarkable swordsmen. You are among the few I could not defeat with kenjutsu alone. But your peaks are still ahead of you."
He bowed slightly, with the respect of a warrior.
Before both fell under the terrible cut of his blade.
Shogo Uzumaki, Edge of the Sea vs Takama Gin & Mifune → Winner: Shogo Uzumaki, Edge of the Sea
<<<< o >>>>
A could feel it—the unmistakable killing intent radiating from the man with white eyes. The bulging veins around his temples revealed the presence of the Byakugan, yet his feral aura left no doubt: he was of the Kaguya Clan. Lucky for the world, they were thought extinct. That clan had been filled with bloodthirsty lunatics.
When the massive wave born from Gaara and the Suiton user's clash surged across the battlefield, A moved at lightning speed, retreating inland before it could hit. Predictably, the bloodthirsty Kaguya, empowered by his Byakugan, had no trouble tracking him down.
Good, A thought. This might actually be fun.
As the stranger closed the distance, he began to speak. "I am Ro Kaguya—"
But before he could finish that irritating introduction, A launched into motion, aiming a crushing strike straight at the man's smug face. Though Ro's eyes followed the movement, at this speed—with his Lightning Armor crackling—A still landed the blow.
Or so he thought.
At the moment of impact, A felt a surge of danger—Ro's bones and blood responded as if alive, sharp growths piercing through the Lightning Armor. A managed to dodge the full counterattack, but not without taking a shallow wound.
Troublesome, he thought grimly. This opponent's more dangerous than expected.
Ro casually reset his jaw with a wet crack, grinning wide. "How rude… I am the Blood Fest. And I think it'll be thrilling to taste your blood this fine afternoon."
His blood twisted unnaturally, forming whips tipped with jagged bone. It was clear now—his clan's infamous kekkei genkai had mutated in his case. The ability to control his own bones had merged with something even darker… and with the Byakugan to guide it, this fight would be anything but simple.
Ro Kaguya, the Blood Fest vs A, the Fourth Raikage
A surged forward again with a roar, his Lightning Armor flashing brighter with each movement. He pummeled Ro with devastating force—yet every strike seemed to miss its true target. Ro's body responded mid-impact: bones shifted, muscle tension realigned, and blood pressure absorbed the shock. It was infuriating.
The Raikage ducked under a crimson whip of blood and drove a shoulder into Ro's torso. A jolt of lightning coursed through him—but again, the enemy's body flowed like liquid and broke the force apart.
"He's reading me…" A muttered. "His eyes… they see too much."
Ro cackled, his smile stained red. "You're wasting effort. All that speed, all that force—beautiful, but meaningless against me."
The words struck deep. A realized the truth: each motion of his raw power gave Ro too much information. The Byakugan caught every twitch, every build-up of tension, every surge of chakra.
Then A remembered something… not a technique, but a lesson—one he would have ignored, if not for the strange gift he received from the Iron Princess. It was a singular method to deliver impact without overt movement, taught to him by a monk in the high mountains in the far north.
"When strength fails, strike with intention. When speed betrays you, strike with silence."
A's body slowed.
Ro narrowed his eyes, confused. The Raikage had dropped into a relaxed stance, no longer crackling with lightning.
"You giving up?" Ro taunted.
"No."
A took a single step forward—and his fist moved less than an inch, barely brushing Ro's chest with a motion so gentle it seemed like a child's untrained strike.
The impact was catastrophic.
Ro's ribs compressed inward as if struck by a mountain. He coughed blood, stunned and unable to see the strike that landed. Before he could reset, A twisted, moved his elbow exactly one centimeter—and broke Ro's shoulder with the smallest motion imaginable.
These weren't punches—they were echoes. Shocks of intent transmitted from subtle movements so efficient they bypassed all defense.
Ro tried to react, but the Byakugan's precision was now his weakness—it was tracking motion that didn't happen. His senses were overwhelmed by phantom impulses.
Ro tried to dodge, but A moved with fluid precision—slow, but flawless. Despite the apparent sluggishness of his strikes, they were inescapable at such close range. A shoulder, an elbow, a knee—three phantoms struck, each with the force of a mountain. Blood erupted from Ro's mouth. He collapsed, the bones in his legs shattered before he even understood what had hit him.
A stood over him, breathing calmly.
"…Power is only true power when you know how not to use it."
Ro blinked once—and passed out.
Ro Kaguya, the Blood Fest vs A, the Fourth Raikage → Winner: A, the Fourth Raikage