The old man standing under the torii gate at the foot of the mountain was dressed in a worn but immaculate priest's robe, his eyes hollow, and his face stiff like a doll.
He held an ancient Gohei in his hand, and his entire being exuded a rigid, ancient aura of order that seemed to merge with this mountain area.
He seemed to be the materialized embodiment of the mountain god's will in this place, the final 'ritual' checkpoint on the path to the shrine.
"Stop," the old man's voice was dry and devoid of emotion, like wind rustling through withered wood, "Those who profane the sacred mountain shall not proceed."
Hashimoto Yoma's momentum remained undiminished; he didn't even bother to look the old man in the eye, merely waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing away an annoying fly.
"Get lost, old bones! Don't block my training path!"
He didn't deliberately attack; merely the violent airflow generated by his charge and his arrogant demeanor struck the old man like an invisible, heavy hammer.
However, to Hashimoto Yoma's surprise, the old man, facing an impact powerful enough to overturn a tank, neither dodged nor displayed any extraordinary power.
He simply stiffly, as if following a predetermined program, raised the Gohei in his hand and began chanting an ancient prayer.
The next moment—
Pfft!
A soft sound.
The old man's body, upon contact with the violent force field surrounding Hashimoto Yoma, shattered and disintegrated effortlessly, like a punctured balloon filled with dust.
He was instantly smashed to smithereens; the opponent was simply too weak, even physically inferior to an ordinary person.
The Gohei spun and fell to the ground, making a crisp sound, breaking into two pieces.
Hashimoto Yoma didn't even feel any resistance as he surged past the spot where the old man had been standing.
He instinctively stopped, looked back at the pile of flesh and mud scattering in the wind, a flicker of bewilderment in his golden pupils, which was quickly replaced by intense disdain and disappointment.
"...What was that?"
He spat, "So weak? Couldn't even give me a warm-up? He probably never exercised a muscle in his life. Kishibe Rohan sends this kind of trash to guard the gate? Truly... utterly boring!"
He felt insulted; to block him with such an easily defeated puppet was an utter contempt for him and the divine power within him.
This anger made him climb faster, his desire for destruction growing even stronger!
He was no longer content with merely climbing, but began to wantonly destroy everything along the way!
The vermilion torii gates were casually smashed by him, the stone steps collapsed under his feet, and the small birds in the mountain forest trembled under his violent aura, not daring to approach.
He was like a golden natural disaster, plowing a path of destruction along the mountain, his golden wings spreading wider, his terrifying muscular strength unleashed wantonly.
Almost in the blink of an eye, he reached the mountaintop in this barbaric manner, rushing into the shrine area permeated with ancient majesty.
In front of the main shrine, Kishibe Rohan stood quietly, with a large number of soldiers behind him, each with stiff expressions and silent faces.
At this moment, Kishibe Rohan no longer held a paintbrush, but the strange scepter symbolizing the mountain god's favor.
His demeanor was completely different from before, with less of an artist's stubbornness and more of a profound majesty and... inhuman indifference, making him more like a competent politician than before.
His gaze was like the cracked black giant rock behind him, ancient and cold.
"Hashimoto Yoma," Kishibe Rohan spoke, his voice calm, yet with a strange echo, as if the mountain wind and rocks were resonating, forming countless golden characters in the air.
"Your barbarity has defiled the sanctity of this place. Commit suicide and atone for your sins."
An indescribable power emanated from the words; Hashimoto Yoma's face instantly turned into a book, causing him to frown, and he pressed his hand against his face, pushing the exposed pages back in.
"Sanctity? Commit suicide and atone? Hahaha!" Hashimoto Yoma roared with laughter, his naked, muscular body like a sculpture in the dim light of the shrine, "Is your sanctity that broken rock and these boring rules? My muscles are the only sanctity in the world!"
On the other side, Kishibe Rohan's expression was one of shock and bewilderment. 'What's going on? How could this happen? How did my ability fail? This is the mountain god's territory; my ability should be maximized!'
Hashimoto Yoma on the other side didn't give him time to think. He couldn't be bothered with pleasantries, suddenly exerted force with his feet, and his body transformed into a golden lightning bolt.
A simple, direct heavy punch, aimed at Kishibe Rohan's face! This punch was enough to pierce a tank's armor!
However, after Kishibe Rohan regained his composure, facing this violent attack, he merely lightly raised the hand holding the scepter. The scepter's tip automatically rotated to point at Yoma, and then faintly glowed, emitting a golden light.
Then the two words, 'viscous,' flew out.
Hashimoto Yoma suddenly felt the surrounding air become incredibly viscous, as if he had fallen into an invisible mire!
His speed plummeted, and that punch, capable of splitting mountains and cracking rocks, became slow and heavy at less than half a meter from Kishibe Rohan!
"Hmm?!" Hashimoto Yoma's golden pupils contracted.
"Hypnosis, thought retardation."
Kishibe Rohan stared at Hashimoto Yoma and said. He didn't fire a physical bullet, but rather, through the scepter, directly transformed "hypnosis" into golden characters and sent them out.
This was an advanced application of his Heaven's Door ability, allowing him to directly project the words he wanted to write. Upon hitting the target, it could alter them, and it was an area-of-effect judgment, not requiring a direct hit on a person.
Immediately after, Kishibe Rohan tapped the hard stone slab ground beneath Hashimoto Yoma's feet with his scepter again.
"Matter Conversion: Quicksand Abyss."
In an instant, the stone slabs beneath Hashimoto Yoma's feet were no longer solid, instantly transforming into quicksand that swallowed everything! At the same time, a powerful suction came from below, threatening to drag him into an endless abyss!
At the same time, waves of dizziness surged into Yoma's mind. The opponent's ability had truly affected him this time. A look of confusion flashed in his eyes; he didn't know what this strange ability was.
But he was not afraid in the slightest.
"Petty tricks!"
Hashimoto Yoma roared, Hermes' divine power erupted, muscular strength surged wildly, directly resisting the viscosity of space and the swallowing quicksand. His leg muscles swelled to their limit, and he stomped fiercely!
The roar of his muscles reawakened his gradually dizzied consciousness.
Boom!
The quicksand was directly dispersed by his terrifying brute force. He stomped on the sand and leaped out, and using this momentum, he broke free from the viscous space's restraints, pouncing towards Kishibe Rohan again!
His single hand reached out, like a tiger's claw, tearing towards Kishibe Rohan's neck.
Kishibe Rohan's eyes flickered, and the scepter traced a strange trajectory in the air.
"You are ten meters away from me!"
Kishibe Rohan suddenly roared. At the same time, the words emitted this time were not aimed at Hashimoto Yoma, but at the soldiers behind him.
The soldiers instantly turned into books, with pages stating that Hashimoto Yoma was 10 meters away from Kishibe Rohan and that everything they were currently seeing was false.
Instantly, a look of realization appeared in the soldiers' eyes; they subconsciously completely believed this statement, and reality was corrected.
In Hashimoto Yoma's eyes, the claws that were clearly within reach, as they swung out, Hashimoto Yoma was horrified to discover that the space between him and Kishibe Rohan seemed to be invisibly stretched!
His claw, clearly containing destructive power, was unable to reach its target, like chasing an endlessly distant finish line in a running dream!
"Bastard!" Hashimoto Yoma felt he was being played, his anger burning. He wanted to continue attacking, but found that Kishibe Rohan casually grabbed a soldier next to him.
With a wave of his hand across the soldier's face, he casually wrote a line of text, and the soldier directly transformed into a cannon, aimed at Hashimoto Yoma.