A cold bead of sweat slid down Mifune's forehead.
The title "The Demigod of the Shinobi World" was not something Hanzō of the Salamander had boasted about himself—it was a name acknowledged across the entire shinobi world.
Since the deaths of Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha, Hanzō had stood as the strongest existence alive.
The Land of Rain was a barren, war-torn nation that should have fallen into ruin long ago. Yet Hanzō alone had held it upright, forcing it into the second tier of great powers through sheer strength.
Perhaps in later years he would grow greedy and fearful of death—but at this moment, he was still the man who placed his nation above all else.
And the dignity of a demigod could not be challenged.
—
"Sword Art: Iai Slash!"
"Sword Art: Iai Slash!"
Both warriors drew at the same instant.
Mifune's blade collided with Hanzō's sickle, steel screaming as sparks flew.
Hanzō sneered. "That's all? Is this what you call bushidō?"
"I'm not done yet!"
Mifune leapt backward just as the sickle swept past his face, missing by a hair's breadth.
Hanzō's body was saturated with poison—his very breath lethal. The mask he wore wasn't for intimidation, but to prevent his own toxins from killing those around him.
A poison sac inside his body continuously secreted venom.
Mifune didn't know this.
He simply assumed it was some bizarre ninja technique.
"That was close…" Mifune thought grimly. One hit and I'd be dead.
"You're different from the others," Hanzō said coldly. "They didn't even live long enough to feel my poison."
His sickle spun wildly as he manipulated the chain with expert precision.
Mifune darted away and slashed the nearby waterfall, sending a spray of water into the air—briefly disrupting Hanzō's line of attack.
The so-called demigod scowled.
"To be toyed with by a samurai…!"
"Chain Sickle: Second Strike!"
Hanzō leapt into the air, his poison-coated blade descending like an executioner's axe.
Mifune had nowhere to retreat.
"Damn it—!"
The blade fell—
—but Mifune was gone.
"Body Flicker?!" Hanzō froze.
No.
He sensed no chakra.
None of these warriors had chakra at all.
Then—
"Thunder Breathing – First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"
Golden lightning erupted.
Electric arcs danced wildly through the air as Mifune blurred forward, faster than sight.
Hanzō felt his body seize as golden currents wrapped around him.
Mifune appeared in front of him in a flash of light, blade aimed straight for his neck.
"Summoning Jutsu: Ibuse!"
A massive salamander erupted from the ground, blocking the strike. Poison spewed from its jaws, flooding the battlefield.
Mifune vanished again.
"That wasn't Lightning Release… no chakra flow at all," Hanzō muttered.
"And lightning isn't supposed to be gold…"
Poison flooded the area.
Grass withered.
Leaves turned black.
The waterfall became violet with toxins.
Mifune reappeared at a distance, chest heaving, eyes sharp.
"State your name," Hanzō said proudly. "You've earned that right."
Even now, he was certain of victory.
Mifune knew it too.
In strength.
In endurance.
In raw power—
He was outmatched.
Even without poison or ninjutsu, Hanzō would eventually kill him.
But—
Mifune smiled faintly.
At least I came prepared.
A certain child's face flashed through his mind.
---
Earlier…
"Mifune-sama, you're going to the front lines?" Yoriichi asked softly.
"They say the Ame ninja are extremely dangerous…"
"It's fine," Mifune replied calmly. "A warrior dies on the battlefield. A man who hides in comfort is merely a noble."
Yoriichi hesitated, then stood up.
"…Do you want to learn my sword style?"
Mifune nearly spilled his tea.
"Your… sword style?"
"It's not really swordsmanship," Yoriichi explained.
"It's breathing."
—
Back in the present—
Mifune exhaled slowly.
"Your name will be remembered," Hanzō declared. "But it ends here."
Mifune lifted his blade.
"You're right about one thing," he said quietly.
"This isn't swordsmanship."
Golden light surged around him once more.
"It's breathing."