Night. The forest was shrouded in darkness.
The air hung still, heavy with the scent of burnt ozone. The ground was shattered, scorched black by countless arcs of lightning chakra. Even the air seemed to sizzle.
Armani and Leo stood facing each other, both panting heavily, eyes locked like two seasoned hunters circling their prey.
That lightning armor of his gives him terrifying defense and speed. To pierce it, I'll need something sharper—something that can cut through anything, Leo thought.
This brat's strength is bizarre. I've spent too much chakra already—if this drags on, I'll lose. I have to end it fast, Armani calculated grimly.
Among the Five Great Hidden Villages, the Cloud was famed for its eEXPlosive power—but that power came at a cost. Lightning Armor, chakra activation, and Nintaijutsu all demanded massive chakra and stamina.
Only monsters like the Third Raikage could fight twenty thousand shinobi for three days and nights without rest. Such men were rarer than phoenix feathers.
Leo's eyes gleamed. He reached into his ninja pouch and tapped it lightly. With a puff of smoke, a storage scroll appeared in his hand.
It was a sealing scroll—standard issue for the ANBU. Every member could requisition one for missions, used to store tools like kunai, shuriken, or eEXPlosive tags. Carrying them all physically was impractical; thus, the storage scroll was born.
"Release!"
Leo formed hand seals and spread the scroll open.
Poof!
A burst of white smoke erupted—and when it cleared, a black blade rested in his hand.
Leo gripped the hilt tightly. It was none other than one of the Twenty-One Great Grade Swords — Enma!
Enma's blade was over three feet long—slender, sharp, and elegant. Strange flame-like engravings ran down its spine, as if hellfire itself clung to the steel.
The curved tip gleamed like a crescent moon, emanating an icy, murderous light. Even from afar, Armani could feel the blade's killing intent—cold enough to freeze the soul.
As Enma was unsheathed, wisps of dark violet energy coiled from it like demonic mist. The chill seeped into Leo's palm.
He had never trained in kenjutsu, yet the moment he gripped Enma, his stance transformed—calm, poised, exuding the aura of a swordsman who had honed his blade through endless battles.
"What kind of sword is that?" Armani demanded, his tone grim. From that single glance, he felt the presence of death itself.
"Its name…" Leo raised the blade to his chest, his eyes flashing scarlet. "Enma. The Blade of Hell—it cuts through all creation."
"Enma, huh? A demonic name for a demonic brat. How fitting." Armani sneered. To him, both boy and blade were aberrations—unnatural.
"Nintaijutsu: Thunderstorm Fist!"
With a roar, Armani lunged forward, lightning eEXPloding around him as he charged like a living thunderbolt—an unstoppable tank of pure destruction.
But the chill from Enma sharpened Leo's mind to a razor's edge. His right arm began to darken again—turning pitch black.
That was Armament Haki, seeping through his arm and into the sword.
The smooth black steel of Enma drank in the Haki greedily, and the blade itself turned fully black—transformed into a Black Blade.
Instinct took over. Leo drew and swung the blade in one fluid motion—calm, precise, flawless.
The heavens trembled. The world fell silent.
In that instant, a jet-black slash ripped through the air, cleaving the night itself.
The world lost its color. The slash carved reality apart.
Where the black arc passed, everything was cut in two—trees, rocks, even the wind.
From a distance, it looked like a black crescent moon tearing open the sky.
The first to face its fury was Armani. The moment he saw it, every instinct screamed danger. He knew—if he took that attack head-on, he'd be cleaved in half.
The slash froze his soul. He dropped flat to the ground, barely dodging, sweat pouring down his face as the deathly wind howled past.
What… What kind of sword is that?!
Within a ten-mile radius, trees split cleanly in half and toppled. Even a waterfall in the distance was severed down the middle.
The sight was unreal—a blade that could cut water itself.
"This brat…" Armani glared at Leo in disbelief.
Leo swayed, his body heavy, vision spinning. That single strike had drained nearly all his Haki.
Enma's power came at a price—it devoured the wielder's Haki to amplify each cut to monstrous levels.
In the original legends, both Zoro and Mihawk—true masters of the blade—had used this very principle. Their "ordinary" slashes were like finishing moves.
For them, every swing was a death sentence.
"Fight!"
The sharpness of Enma filled Leo with renewed confidence. He ignored the exhaustion, vanished in a blur using Shave, and charged at Armani.
At this point, retreat was impossible—this was a battle to the death.
Armani, seeing the charge, snarled. A Cloud jonin retreat before a child? Never!
"Ha!"
He met the charge head-on, lightning flaring around his fists.
Their clash shook the night.
They vanished and reappeared all across the clearing, each collision shaking the ground. EEXPlosions of chakra split the air, shockwaves shredding leaves and soil alike.
To the naked eye, they were gone—only thunderous cracks echoed, one after another, like a storm of detonations.
After seventy or eighty fierce exchanges, both stopped—battered, bleeding, panting heavily.
Armani's Lightning Armor had been shredded; gashes covered his body, blood streaming down to the bone.
Leo's Armament Haki had protected him, but Armani's raw power and lightning-enhanced punches had shattered ribs and ruptured organs.
"Brat!" Armani roared. "One last move—to decide life or death!"
He slammed his palms together. "Lightning Release: Heavy Current Burst!"
Thunder surged between his hands, forming two massive blades of crackling electricity. With a deafening roar, he launched himself forward at full speed—his technique akin to a double Lightning Cutter.
Leo's eyes narrowed. The decisive moment had come.
Instead of panic, he felt a deep, eerie calm. He raised Enma, its blackened edge gleaming, and assumed an unfamiliar stance.
Softly, he whispered—
"Eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, mind—man's six roots."
"Each divided into good, evil, and neutral."
"Each is further stained by purity or corruption."
"In this life—thirty-six afflictions."
"One-Sword Style: Thirty-Six Calamity Winds!"
"Slash!"
His voice fell—and so did the blade.
A surge of violet demonic aura fused with the sword energy, erupting outward in a hurricane of pure destruction.
The world seemed to shatter beneath the swing.
Armani's pupils dilated. In that instant, countless invisible blades surrounded him—too fast to see, too sharp to comprehend.
And then—he was cut to ribbons.
The forest fell silent once more.
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