'Is he really this powerful in just one strike?' Kiyohara thought, his eyes wide behind his mask as he surveyed the devastation.
Might Duy had beaten the legendary Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist into absolute pulp. The terrain was unrecognizable. At the same time, Kiyohara's sharp eyes caught a glint of metal—a massive fragment of a shattered blade had flown out from the impact zone, landing somewhere in the distant brush.
Kiyohara stepped forward, approaching the epicenter.
The three surviving Swordsmen had fled, their minds broken. They wouldn't dare look back.
In the center of the crater stood Might Duy. He looked as if he could breathe his last at any moment. Unless someone possessed the divine power of the Sage of Six Paths, his life was forfeit. The Gate of Death was irreversible. It burned away chakra, blood, and cellular energy until nothing was left but ash.
"Senior Duy," Kiyohara asked softly, dropping the mercenary act for a moment. "Do you... do you have any last wishes?"
Hearing this, Duy turned around, his movements incredibly stiff.
"Last wishes, you ask..." Duy rasped, the crimson steam surrounding him beginning to flicker and fade. "There are none. This... is exactly the burning of youth I have always yearned for."
Rustle.
Footsteps echoed from the treeline. Might Guy, Ebisu, and another genin rushed out from the woods.
After feeling the apocalyptic tremors, Guy couldn't stay away. He had to find his father.
"Father!"
As soon as Guy saw Duy's carbonizing skin and the fading red vapor, his eyes widened in horror. He knew the lore of the Eight Gates. He knew what this meant.
"Don't cry, Guy," Duy smiled, his voice growing faint. "Death is not the end. This moment... is the climax of my youth."
Hearing his father's words, Guy gritted his teeth. He tilted his head back, fighting with everything he had to stop his tears from falling. Crying now would be an insult to his father's ultimate sacrifice.
"Each generation has its own tasks," Duy looked at his son with profound, loving eyes. "This is as far as I can help you, my son."
This was the true meaning of the Will of Fire. The torch is passed down through the generations, the flame never ceasing. He was passing his Flame of Youth to Guy; the rest was up to him.
"I understand, Father," Guy said, his tear-stained face hardening with absolute resolve.
"Kiyohara... Kakashi..." Duy shifted his gaze to the two boys standing respectfully nearby. "You are excellent comrades. Do not let them down, Guy. Spend your youth vigorously with them."
Duy's voice was barely a whisper now.
Finally, he smiled, gave his signature thumbs-up, and flashed a mouthful of brilliantly white teeth.
The next moment, countless magma-like fissures cracked open across Duy's skin. The glowing lines dimmed. Slowly, the man who had shattered legends turned entirely to ash, drifting away on the coastal wind.
He was a man who had sublimated everything he had, blooming with the most brilliant radiance imaginable.
Kiyohara remained uncharacteristically silent.
'This world is cruel,' Kiyohara thought. 'Some people toil in obscurity for twenty years just to achieve a single moment of brilliance, while others are born possessing the eyes of gods. But regardless... his will lives on.'
Duy had died, yet in Guy, he would live forever.
"Retrieve all the weapons."
Ken'ya Takada, the captain of the Hyūga escort team, stepped forward, breaking the heavy silence. He ordered his Jonin to collect the four massive weapons left behind in the crater.
They gathered the Blunt Sword: Kabutowari, the Twin Swords: Hiramekarei, the Longsword: Nuibari, and the Explosion Sword: Shibuki.
"Let's move out. Do not delay," Captain Takada ordered, seeing his subordinates secure the swords.
It was pointless to spend time searching for the shattered fragments of the Kubikiribōchō (Executioner's Blade) that had chipped off during the clash. The enemy could return with reinforcements at any moment, and their primary mission was evacuating the Hyūga Main Family.
Kakashi walked over and silently patted Guy's shoulder. Guy bent down, carefully picking up the green flak jacket his father had left behind, and nodded to Kakashi.
The Byakugan ninja scouted the perimeter and rerouted their path. The commotion here had been too massive; continuing on their original trajectory guaranteed an ambush.
Watching the Konoha Jonin seal away the four legendary swords, Kiyohara felt a pang of intense envy. But he knew he couldn't touch them. The Seven Swords held massive political and symbolic significance for the Hidden Mist. Eventually, Hiruzen Sarutobi would likely trade them back to Kiri in exchange for postwar concessions.
But Kiyohara wasn't going to leave empty-handed.
'Spirit,' Kiyohara tapped the mental Urn with his consciousness.
The Radical Spirit materialized in the mental space.
Kiyohara quickly explained the situation, noting that obtaining the blade fragment he had spotted earlier would drastically increase his combat power.
"Is that so," the Radical Spirit crossed his arms. He knew Kiyohara was just greedy, but a stronger host meant a higher chance of fulfilling his dying wish to kill Pakura.
The Spirit partially possessed Kiyohara's right hand, channeling earth and wind chakra to synthesize a burst of Magnet Release.
Kiyohara held his hand out under the cover of his cloak. A subtle, invisible magnetic field extended into the distant bushes.
Zip.
A heavy, jagged fragment of dark metal flew silently through the night air, landing perfectly into Kiyohara's waiting palm.
"I kept an eye out," the Radical Spirit reported, releasing the possession. "None of the Byakugan users were looking this way."
"Thanks for the trouble," Kiyohara smirked beneath his mask.
This was a massive gain. Although he was slightly disappointed it wasn't a piece of the lightning-infused Kiba swords, a fragment of the Kubikiribōchō was a priceless treasure.
Every ninja sword had a unique property. The Executioner's Blade possessed the terrifying ability to absorb iron from the blood of its victims to continuously repair itself. It was the only truly "unbreakable" sword.
'If I melt this fragment down and plate my Tachi with it... how much money will I save on blade maintenance?' Kiyohara thought, his pragmatic, capitalistic mind racing.
He weighed the heavy fragment in his hand before silently sealing it into a storage scroll in his pouch. The Kubikiribōchō was massive, so the chipped fragment was substantial. He just had to figure out how to forge it into his own blade later.
The convoy resumed its withdrawal in a heavy, suffocating silence.
The sight of Might Duy turning to ash was permanently branded into everyone's minds. It was a magnificent tragedy—a complex mix of extreme awe, the bitter sorrow of losing a comrade, and the selfish relief of surviving the ordeal.
Captain Takada pushed the team relentlessly until they were dozens of miles away from the crater. Finally, they found a concealed, rocky valley and halted for a mandatory rest.
Everyone's depleted stamina urgently needed recovery. They still had a two-hour march to reach the evacuation boats, and that was assuming no further detours.
Inside the valley, there was only the quiet rustling of ninja eating dry rations. No one dared light a bonfire.
Guy sat alone, his head bowed, clutching his father's jacket. Ebisu and his other teammate sat silently by his side, offering quiet solidarity.
Kakashi leaned against the rock wall, his lone eye staring blankly into the gloom, lost in thought.
On the other side of the camp, Kurenai assisted Rin as she moved among the Hyūga branch members, treating the minor concussions and scrapes sustained from the shockwave.
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