Can humans truly stand shoulder to shoulder with gods?
It's impossible to imagine such a thing through mere speculation. But step by step, through struggle and perseverance, perhaps humanity really can one day stand alongside the divine.
Right now, Netero seemed like a god of destruction incarnate. The authority in his hands was raw, destructive power—each strike enough to shatter the very earth.
Mothra spread her wings wide, sending rippling waves of light across the sky. The dazzling brilliance outshone even the stars above.
As if provoked by the Hundred-Type Guanyin, Mothra let out a furious cry and unleashed a radiant energy wave at the colossal avatar.
Netero lowered his gaze, serene as an enlightened Buddha removed from worldly concerns. Hands pressed together in prayer, lips whispering sutras, he commanded his Guanyin to strike toward the heavens.
Meanwhile, on the ground—
Aoyama roared like a mad beast, his voice echoing with savage fury. His eyes brimmed with murderous intent, and his surging aura spread like blades slicing at Netero.
But Netero's aura easily deflected it.
Golden light, radiant and pure, could ward off all evils.
With Mothra keeping the Guanyin occupied, Aoyama no longer had to worry about its overwhelming might. All that remained was a direct clash with Netero himself.
The only spectator left was Hisoka. Dragging his battered body away from the battlefield's edge after surviving a strike from the Guanyin, he stared at the fight with bloodshot eyes.
For him, this was an unprecedented sight—an earth-shaking clash that dwarfed any battle between even the strongest Nen users. Compared to Chairman Netero, the so-called "top-tier" ability users looked like children.
In both quantity and quality, Netero's aura was overwhelming. His body alone surpassed the durability of magical beasts, radiating despair to any challenger.
Aoyama drove his fist forward, heavy as a meteor. The impact thundered across the land, breaking apart the very ground beneath them.
But Netero only clapped the dust from his hands. Unharmed, he shook his head as if instructing a student:
"Your aura is plentiful, but your technique is too crude. Without mastering the basics of Ken and Ko, you'll never break through my defenses."
Ken and Ko—fundamental techniques of Nen.
The Nen system was vast, far beyond simply mustering aura. There were countless applications. For example, En expanded one's aura into a domain, sensing everything within. In a concealed aura, Zetsu cut it off entirely. These skills were essential for any seasoned user.
Hisoka had taught Aoyama the methods, but battle was another matter. Mastery required long practice and habit, not theory alone.
Still, Aoyama wasn't weak.
He was a shinobi first, trained in taijutsu and raw combat. Like a beast in its natural element, his true strength lay in close-quarters battle.
A wicked grin split his face. Teeth ground together, sparking like clashing steel, and a devilish laugh rang out:
"I'll stop hiding it—time to play the ninja way!"
"Taijutsu Art—Mountain-Crushing Strike!"
Netero's eyes gleamed with joy, as though he'd just heard a sutra recited aloud. He raised a hand to meet the blow head-on, unflinching.
BOOM!
Their fists collided, erupting into a storm of wild energy that ripped apart the ground. Even the stars seemed to retreat, hiding behind clouds in fear.
Once again, Hisoka suffered collateral damage, torn by shockwaves that slashed open new wounds. Yet he gritted his teeth, refusing to look away. He swore to witness this clash of god and devil until the end.
The battle raged on—unceasing, deafening. Like endless thunder, like an engine roaring without pause, the sound of fists colliding filled the night.
Above, Mothra tangled with the Guanyin, diverting much of Netero's aura and focus.
The Titan Queen's body was far too resilient; even Guanyin's devastating blows couldn't ground her for long.
To Aoyama, Netero was no longer just a man—he was a god of war. But unlike mythical gods, Netero had reached this peak through sheer willpower.
Day after day, year after year, he had thrown punches at barren cliffsides, through countless cycles of spring and winter. His martial arts had been honed to perfection. Now, he stood at the absolute pinnacle of humanity.
No bloodline advantages. No divine gifts. No "cheats."
Only faith—unyielding conviction in his invincibility.
Aoyama's blows could shatter stone, yet against Netero, they did next to nothing. Netero's punches, by contrast, shattered Aoyama's bones, each strike exploding with terrifying force.
Monster.
No—beast.
Netero's body was like that of a magical beast, tireless and mechanical, delivering punch after punch beyond the limits of mortal endurance.
If this were humanity's peak, then what kind of nightmare would the Ant King be? Sadly, Aoyama would never see it with his own eyes.
Not because he would die, but because his time here was running out.
When he unlocked Mothra, he'd discovered the ability to travel to other worlds. But only as a traveler—a tourist. His stay in this Hunter world was limited. Less than a month remained before he would be pulled away.
He wouldn't live to see the rise of the Ant King. Not even the clash between the Phantom Troupe and the Kurta Clan's vengeance.
But that was fine.
To battle Netero himself was far more exhilarating than fighting Hisoka. Against Hisoka, even with the Eight Gates, victory was uncertain. But here, opening the Gates allowed him to meet Netero head-on.
Netero—truly the peak of mankind.
No flashy tricks. No theatrics.
Just pure, unadulterated destruction.
BOOM!
Mothra was slammed down by the Guanyin, her massive body crashing into the earth, raising a storm of dust like a sandstorm.
Aoyama staggered back, grimacing in pain. Maintaining the Eight Gates took its toll. His body screamed for rest, for the comfort of his ninja world.
But Mothra rose again, wings beating furiously. With a cry, she ascended and fired another radiant energy wave at the Guanyin.
Then Aoyama's eyes widened. He shouted upward with all his strength:
"Mosura! Lend me all of your energy!"
The Titan Queen tilted her head, puzzled. Human bodies were too fragile to endure such power.
But when she saw the unwavering determination in Aoyama's eyes, she chose to believe.
Her wings lit with ancient sigils, glowing brilliantly. All of her stored energy surged outward—pouring directly into Aoyama's body.
Among Titans, Mothra possessed the ability to channel energy into others, empowering her allies.
Each Titan had its method of gathering and unleashing energy. Godzilla, for example, focused it through his dorsal fins. Others bore different gifts.
But Mothra was special. The Queen of Titans, not only for her power, but for her beauty and kindness.
And now, she entrusted it all to Aoyama.