"Damn it, all or nothing!"
Ōyama Kentarō roared, his bulky body surging forward as his hands flew through a rapid series of hand seals.
The life-and-death pressure seemed to have sharpened his focus—his seal work felt faster than ever before.
Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Technique!
A massive, roaring water dragon erupted from his mouth, streaking directly toward Yuta's stationary physical body.
Perhaps amplified by the moisture-rich prison surrounding them, this dragon seemed larger, more ferocious than the standard technique.
'Not that it mattered.'
Without hesitation, Yuta sent one of the Spirit-Devouring Vortexes orbiting his spiritual form shooting forward. The spinning sphere, almost alive, met the dragon head-on.
Upon contact, the colossal water construct simply ceased to exist. It didn't burst or scatter; it was just gone, leaving not a single drop behind.
But the Water Dragon had only ever been a diversion.
In the moment of its destruction, Ōyama Kentarō and Okajima Taido were already upon Yuta's physical body, their legendary blades gripped tight.
They'd never believed a simple ninjutsu could finish this; the true path to victory was destroying the source—the vulnerable body left behind.
"As long as I destroy that body of yours, you can't possibly maintain this state!" Okajima Taido snarled, his face a mask of feral rage.
He swung his sword in a brutal, overhand arc. The explosive scrolls of the Shibuki were spent, but Hiramekarei remained a masterfully forged blade. Its edge was more than sharp enough to sever that infuriatingly calm head from its shoulders.
Ōyama, half a step behind due to his bulk, felt a surge of desperate hope. He held little faith in Okajima's direct assault, but the fact they'd closed the distance—that the boy hadn't so much as flinched—proved their theory correct!
'Maintaining that spiritual form must leave the physical shell defenseless!'
The blade flashed down.
A spray of blood misted the air.
'Success!'
Ōyama's charge hitched for a triumphant second—only for his expression to freeze solid.
The blood was Okajima Taido's.
"How…?"
'That brat's spiritual body… Damn it, when did it get back here?!'
Okajima Taido stared down, disbelief drowning the pain, at the gaping hole suddenly torn through his chest.
Standing between him and Yuta's physical form, materialized in the space of a thought, was Yuta's spiritual body. The ghost of a smile touched Yuta's lips.
Okajima's tactic wasn't flawed.
Targeting the physical body was the logical move. But with the Spirit Transformation Technique under his command, Yuta could return to his body instantly, regardless of distance. Even if he chose not to, his spiritual body could interpose itself just as fast.
This was the confidence that let him leave his body exposed.
Truthfully, he could have let Okajima's strike land. The Sage Mode spiritual body, born from fusing Sage Mode with the Spirit Transformation Technique, could exist purely as spirit, making physical damage irrelevant.
Of course, Orochimaru hadn't begun those particular experiments yet, so a new vessel wasn't readily available. And even if one was… Yuta wasn't particularly interested in possessing anyone.
Yuta glanced down dispassionately at the life fading from Okajima Taido's eyes.
"Five"
Realizing this, Ōyama Kentarō charged forward on sheer, terrified momentum. The Samehada in his hands could absorb chakra and feed it back to him, but against this, what good was it?
His only hope now was the motionless Hozuki Shingetsu and the long-charging attack he was preparing.
He no longer hoped it would kill the monster. Just wound him. Just create an opening to run.
"Shingetsu!"
"Now!"
A concentrated light erupted from the twin blades of Hiramekarei. On the flat of the sword, a dense orb of chakra solidified, humming with pent-up power.
This was a sword that grew stronger with every life it took. The chakra of every enemy Hozuki Shingetsu had taken over nearly a decade of service was stored within it, and all of it was now focused into this single release.
The perfect trump card, saved for a perfect crisis.
Ōyama knew this was the final gamble. Heart clenched in fear, his bulky form threw itself in front of Yuta's spiritual body, the Samehada sweeping in a clumsy, distracting arc.
It was pointless. Yuta had noticed Hozuki Shingetsu's preparations from the start.
In Yuta's assessment, Hiramekarei was an impressive blade. The chakra orb of its released form was a potent attack, a crude cousin to a Tailed Beast Bomb, albeit on a far smaller scale.
Under Ōyama Kentarō's desperate gaze, Yuta's spiritual body brought its hands together in a soft, definitive clap.
All at once, every remaining Spirit-Devouring Vortex orbiting him shot forward.
As the spheres lanced away, Yuta dissolved his spiritual form. His physical body took a single, casual step back, letting the heavy Samehada whistle through the empty air where he'd just been.
The Vortexes found Ōyama Kentarō.
In his final moment, he understood. He finally knew what his comrades had felt in their last second before death.
His mouth opened, perhaps to curse, perhaps to beg. Then the raging torrent of force tore him apart, erasing him from the world.
"Uncle Nusaku, you can drop the barrier now."
From the very start of the battle, Yuta had asked Uzumaki Nusaku to erect the Four Violet Flames Formation—first to prevent any escape, and second to contain the catastrophic fallout of his techniques.
Hozuki Shingetsu wasn't dead yet. The tracking Vortexes hadn't reached him. But in Yuta's mind, the man was already gone.
Those homing spheres of destruction were more than enough to obliterate Hiramekarei's chakra orb and the swordsman behind it.
Whatever other tricks the man might have held, survival was no longer among the possibilities.
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