Under the stunned gazes of Hyūga Hiashi and the other shinobi present...
Shiki suddenly leapt forward.
He jumped straight off the cliff.
In the next instant, his figure appeared arrogantly before the main encampment of Iwagakure, landing as if he were strolling into his own backyard—swaggering, relaxed, and completely unbothered, as though the entire Stone Village didn't exist in his eyes.
Hyūga Hiashi exchanged glances with another clan head, both of them smiling helplessly.
"Maybe… this is how the truly strong think," the other patriarch muttered. "Their way of doing things is completely different from normal people."
They all knew exactly what this was.
Ōnoki was provoking him—baiting him into showing himself.
And Shiki had taken the bait anyway.
In other words… this was the pride of the strong.
But for Shiki—someone who could single-handedly crush Iwagakure—not appearing would have been the real stupidity.
Though speechless and slightly exasperated, Hyūga Hiashi and the others who had followed Shiki into this war still moved instinctively, appearing behind him without hesitation.
"Shiki… Shiki!"
Ōnoki glared at him furiously.
The more relaxed Shiki looked, the more enraged the Tsuchikage became.
Are you looking down on me?
Bastard…
"…Stop saying my name so much, old man," Shiki said casually, scratching his arm as goosebumps rose. "It's seriously creepy."
"…"
Ōnoki ignored the provocation and demanded coldly,
"Why are you here?!"
For the past half year, Shiki had completely ignored the war.
So why now?
Why choose this moment to confront the Stone Village?
More importantly—
Ōnoki had no confidence at all.
Deep down, he didn't believe he could defeat Shiki.
"What else could it be?" Shiki shrugged, his tone lazy.
"This war's boring. Might as well end it early."
He spread his arms wide, like he was announcing that the party was over because he'd lost interest.
"You—!"
Boring?
You treat the Great Ninja War like a game?!
This was a war between nations—between the Five Great Villages!
Ōnoki was furious… but helpless.
He could only glare.
Because when someone with Shiki's strength said those words, no one could refute them.
That was the absolute gap created by power.
After steadying his breathing, Ōnoki forced his anger down.
"Wait," he said suddenly. "Shiki—let's make a bet."
"A bet?" Shiki tilted his head slightly. "Go on."
"If you don't use your swords," Ōnoki said firmly, "and we fight head-on… if you win, Iwagakure will withdraw its forces."
This was the last option he had.
A full-scale war meant certain defeat.
But surrendering outright?
Unacceptable.
Too much manpower. Too many resources.
Too much blood already spent.
So he gambled.
If Shiki fell—
Then without him, Konoha's remaining forces meant nothing.
"How about it?" Ōnoki asked. "Do you accept?"
Every eye on the battlefield locked onto them.
For Iwagakure, this bet was ideal—win or lose, survival was guaranteed.
But for Konoha's side, it felt unnecessary. They were already winning.
"Lord Shiki—!"
Hyūga Hiashi started to object, but Shiki cut him off.
"Relax," Shiki said lightly. "Even without my swords, I don't think any of you can threaten me."
He paused, then smiled.
"But since it's an old man's request… I'll agree."
With that, Shiki calmly sheathed his swords.
His expression didn't change at all.
"You—!"
Even if it was true, did he really have to say it like that?
It made the Stone Village look utterly pathetic.
"Don't be so angry," Shiki waved his hand dismissively.
"I've already said I won't use my swords. You still can't touch me. Want me to tie my hands too?"
He grinned.
"Honestly, even then you'd still lose, shorty."
"I just hope when you attack, you aim a bit higher," he added pleasantly.
"Judging by your height, you might only reach my knees."
"I—!"
Ōnoki's eyes went wide.
No one had mocked him like this in decades.
Even some of the Stone shinobi struggled not to laugh.
Ōnoki was already short—
And after being cut down by Shiki earlier, he was even worse off.
If he couldn't fly, he really would have to jump just to hit someone's knees.
"Bastard!" Ōnoki roared. "Enough talk—fight me head-on!"
His face flushed crimson as he rose into the air, eyes burning with rage.
Shiki shrugged and stepped forward.
"Lord Shiki—!"
Hyūga Hiashi and the others were still uneasy.
Shiki's greatest reputation came from his swordsmanship. Without it, this felt dangerous.
Shiki didn't even look back.
"Watch closely," he said.
"I don't use swords because my swordsmanship is the strongest."
He smiled.
"I use swords because I like them."
The battlefield fell silent.
That single sentence carried terrifying confidence.
He wasn't strong because of the sword.
The sword was simply his preference.
"Little brat!"
Ōnoki formed seals rapidly.
Between his hands, a white cubic construct formed—gleaming, deadly.
Dust Release.
His ultimate kekkei tōta.
"If I lose, Iwagakure withdraws," Ōnoki thought grimly.
"But if I win—without Shiki, Konoha falls."
He thrust his hands forward.
"Come, brat! Let me see how you deal with this without your swords!"
"Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique!"
Blinding white light surged forward.
Shiki didn't draw a blade.
He raised his arm instead.
"Armament Haki."
Pitch-black energy wrapped around his arm, dense and absolute.
Then...
Red energy bloomed outward like a pressure wave.
Advanced Armament—emission and internal destruction layered together.
Shiki stepped forward and punched.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion rocked the battlefield.
Ōnoki froze.
"…Impossible."
Shiki's fist had stopped the Dust Release cube—barehanded.
Not dissolved or outright erased but actually being held.
"How… how can a fist withstand Dust Release?!"
It should have decomposed everything.
Shiki laughed softly.
"So this is what a Tsuchikage amounts to?" he said.
"A frog at the bottom of the well."
His fist pushed forward.
The Dust Release began to retreat.
Step by step.
Even without swordsmanship, Shiki had absolute answers.
"Impossible! How can this be real?!"
Ōnoki had always held absolute confidence in his Kekkei tōta. Dust Release was his pride—the ultimate proof of his power.
And yet, faced with the scene before him… he simply couldn't accept it.
What he didn't understand was that Haki wasn't chakra, nor a technique to be countered by conventional means. It was the manifestation of pure will.
A power that could overwhelm concepts themselves—space, immortality, even so-called invincible abilities—crushed outright by sheer intent.
Compared to that…
A mere Dust Release was nothing.
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