Looking down at the chakra blade in his hand, now covered in cracks, even Madara couldn't help but feel a trace of shock.
This—this had never happened before.
Not even during his battles with Hashirama had such a thing occurred.
Hashirama's Wood Human Technique might have allowed him to block blades with his bare hands or use taijutsu to restrict Madara's sword strikes, but he had never once caused Madara's chakra blade to crack head-on.
Could it be that Gekko Hoshiyomi's swordsmanship had surpassed even Hashirama's offensive power?
No. Impossible.
Madara shook his head violently.
In his heart, Hashirama was the one and only being in the world who could stand as his equal.
How could he possibly admit that someone else — another man — could possess strength comparable to that of Hashirama?
"Gekko Hoshiyomi," Madara said, "I admit your swordsmanship is strong—very strong.
Here, I, Madara, acknowledge you as the strongest in swordsmanship.
But that's as far as it goes.
The best you can do is to make cracks appear on my chakra blade."
He smirked.
"But so what? As long as I still possess my ocular power, I can continuously repair it.
You can never defeat my Susanoo."
Madara's voice echoed across the smoke-filled battlefield.
Yet, strangely, Hoshiyomi on the other side did not respond.
Due to the enhancement of the Sage Mode's sensory ability, even Madara's perception couldn't accurately locate Hoshiyomi's position.
Just as he wondered what Hoshiyomi was up to—
Whoosh!
A sharp sound of slicing air tore through the silence.
Madara's eyes widened.
Through his Mangekyō Sharingan, he could clearly see Hoshiyomi stepping on his flying sword, rushing toward him at breakneck speed.
As he approached, Hoshiyomi's voice echoed from afar, growing louder and louder:
"Hey, hey, did you misunderstand my swordsmanship?
What do you mean, 'that's all'?
That last strike was just the appetizer.
The real technique—comes now!"
But rather than take advantage of Madara's momentary shock to strike, Hoshiyomi instead stopped before Susanoo and slowly took his stance.
"Watch carefully. This is my strongest strike—
Ultimate: Swallow Return!"
Madara's pupils shrank sharply.
Yet rather than panic, his eyes filled with excitement and anticipation.
Though he refused to admit Hoshiyomi could stand equal to Hashirama, he couldn't deny his curiosity about this "strongest sword strike."
While channeling his ocular power to repair the right-hand chakra blade, he drew another from his waist, crossing them before him to form an X.
"Come then. Show me your ultimate technique.
You'd better overwhelm me completely…
because if you don't, I swear, once that move is over, it will be your death."
Facing Madara's bloodthirsty words, Hoshiyomi said nothing.
He simply closed his eyes, regulating his breathing.
In this moment, it was as if he saw the real Sasaki Kojirō using his Noble Phantasm at the gate of Ryudō Temple.
Watching Kojirō under the watery moonlight, using his ultimate Swallow Return, all extraneous thoughts vanished from Hoshiyomi's mind. He simply followed his instincts, mobilizing his body to swing the Mikazuki Munechika in his hand, just like Kojirō.
Madara widened his Mangekyō Sharingan, striving to see through Hoshiyomi's movement trajectory. But in the next second, he was shocked to discover that he... could see through nothing.
Under the Mangekyō's perception, Hoshiyomi's movements seemed to slow down to 0.5x speed, but even at this slow speed, he still couldn't clearly perceive what Hoshiyomi was doing.
Hoshiyomi seemed to draw his sword with the utmost ordinariness, yet in the very next instant, his body abruptly split into three distinct figures.
A shadow clone? Madara thought instinctively.
No—there were no hand seals, no division of chakra.
They weren't clones—just afterimages.
But if they were afterimages…
How could an afterimage deceive the all-seeing Mangekyō Sharingan?
Madara didn't know the answer.
Nor could he make any move to dodge.
First—because his Mangekyō Sharingan told him that all three of those figures had already completely sealed off every possible escape route.
And second—because, in the very next instant, Hoshiyomi's figure vanished.
Gone.
Only three arcs of sword energy remained in the air—three brilliant slashes sharp enough to split heaven and earth apart.
The three terrifying sword energy converged at a single point, striking the two chakra blades Madara held in front of him.
Then—
the entire world fell silent.
At that moment, Madara couldn't even tell what state he was in.
He could see everything with crystal clarity—
The blue sky above.
The battle-torn land beneath them.
The two chakra blades in his hands.
Even the falling leaves drifting slowly downward, and the birds flapping their wings as they fled into the distance.
Everything was visible, everything seemed normal.
"Not bad," he thought.
His chakra blades were unbroken.
He didn't feel any impact or force at all.
It was as though Hoshiyomi's attack had missed entirely.
But something was wrong—terribly wrong.
He couldn't hear anything.
No wind.
No rustling leaves.
No birdsong.
Not even his own heartbeat.
As he looked around in confusion, something flickered at the edge of his vision.
Behind him—somehow—Hoshiyomi had appeared silently, without a trace.
He stood there, his back to Madara, poised mid-motion—just about to sheath his sword.
Under Madara's bewildered gaze, Hoshiyomi slowly slid Mikazuki Munechika back into its scabbard, inch by inch.
When the pure white blade disappeared completely, the sword guard met the sheath with a single, clear, ringing sound—
Clink!
Wait—a sound?
Madara's eyes snapped open wide. That sound... how is that possible?
In that instant, the world came rushing back.
The howling wind, the rustle of trees, and—
—the sharp, unmistakable sound of his chakra blades shattering.
Madara looked down in shock.
Before his eyes, the two massive blades were spiderwebbing with cracks, spreading from the point where they had crossed.
Three faint cuts—light as whispers—continued to widen.
Until finally, with a loud Ping, both enormous blades split apart completely, leaving only broken fragments in Susanoo's massive hands.
His chakra blades had been utterly destroyed.
Yet—even if the blades were shattered—how had Hoshiyomi managed to appear behind him?
As confusion filled Madara's mind, the blue-purple barrier before his eyes suddenly split open from the top.
A crack spread rapidly across its surface—
—and with a thunderous boom, the entire barrier of Susanoo shattered.
The barrier was gone.
The sky was clear again.
Madara stared, disbelief etched across his face.
Before him, his PerfectSusanoo—the manifestation forged from endless ocular power—
had been ripped apart head-on by Hoshiyomi's threefold strike.
If that attack had penetrated even a little deeper, his entire Susanoo might have been obliterated in a single blow.
He turned stiffly, looking at Hoshiyomi, who had now turned to face him as well.
Madara opened his mouth—
but no words came out.
...
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