The sounds of physical collision on the field became increasingly dense, each clash bringing with it a sharp, fierce wind.
"Not fast enough, a little faster."
Mamoru swatted away Neji's tricky attempt at a pressure point strike, his palm following immediately after to strike at a vital point on Neji's chest, the movement flowing like water.
Neji hastily leaned back to dodge, then immediately twisted his waist and raised his leg, a sharp high kick aimed at Mamoru's temple, the sound of the wind whistling as it struck.
At that moment, Mamoru suddenly pulled his left hand out of his pants pocket.
Neji's pupils constricted slightly, and the rhythm of his kick showed a momentary hesitation. In that split second of a lightning-fast moment, Mamoru's right hand shot out like a flash, steadily grabbing Neji's suspended ankle.
And the left hand he had just pulled from his pocket was actually used by him to perform an extremely showy action—with one hand restraining Neji's ankle, he elegantly brushed back the bangs on his forehead with the other, while leaning his body back, his face full of self-indulgent coolness.
"What!?" Neji immediately felt toyed with, rage burning in his eyes.
Mamoru wouldn't care about his opponent's feelings. He applied force with his wrist, lifting Neji into the air and swinging him. That white figure then flew off into the distance.
Though surprised, Neji did not panic, nimbly adjusting his posture in the air and finally landing steadily, kicking up a bit of dust.
Mamoru wasn't surprised by this at all, he hadn't used much strength to begin with.
He raised his hand and casually beckoned with his finger toward Neji not far away, a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. This extremely simple action was more provocative than any words.
Neji's brow furrowed tightly, his fists clenching until they cracked. A surge of anger at being slighted churned in his chest. He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to suppress this impulse and maintain his usual calm.
Once his breathing steadied, he walked toward Mamoru, each step firm and powerful.
"Neji, knowing that the outcome won't change at all, why do you still struggle?" Mamoru watched the slowly approaching Neji, his voice as calm as if he were stating a perfectly ordinary fact.
Neji's footsteps paused, his just-calmed emotions stirred up again, his chest visibly heaving. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't truly maintain a peaceful state of mind.
"See reality for what it is. You don't have a single chance of winning, it's impossible for you to defeat me."
Mamoru continued, "Fate is arranged this way. Don't tell me... you also want to be like those people you denied and resist fate?"
These words were like a sharp blade, stabbing ruthlessly into the most contradictory part of Neji's heart. This person who always emphasized that fate was irresistible was now doing exactly that: resisting fate.
"Shut up! I told you to shut up!" Neji roared out, completely losing his former composure.
He no longer cared about any tactical formations as Chakra surged within his body, and he charged fiercely toward Mamoru.
Mamoru frowned almost imperceptibly.
Did he lose his cool that easily?
His gaze locked onto the rapidly approaching figure. He had just raised his hand to aim forward when a second thought changed his mind.
After all, this person might become his brother-in-law in the future. He should go a little easy on him, just for show.
In that instant of thought, he turned his wrist and gave a light wave toward the side. Neji, who was sprinting at full power, suddenly felt an invisible force pushing him to accelerate Before he could figure out the situation, he had already stopped less than half a meter in front of Mamoru.
This sudden change caught Neji off guard. The shock on his face hadn't even had time to fade, and his breathing was slightly hurried.
"How unsightly, Neji." Mamoru commented flatly, his gaze carrying a hint of pity.
Neji's expression instantly twisted, thoroughly enraged by the other's high-and-mighty tone. "What do you know!?"
Before his words finished, his palms, carrying a fierce wind, struck toward Mamoru, Chakra condensing in his palms into a sharp blast of energy.
Facing Neji's full-power attack in his fury, Mamoru put away his playful thoughts.
In the next moment, the dull thuds of clashing strikes echoed in the arena, but Mamoru's fierce and rapid offensive soon suppressed Neji. His moves were vigorous and overbearing, each strike carrying the sound of breaking air.
The flexible switching between the Strong Fist and Gentle Fist left Neji struggling to cope, as if he were mired in a swamp, unable even to pull back and regroup.
Finally, Neji gritted his teeth, the veins at his temples throbbing as he fully activated the Chakra in his body.
Mamoru immediately sensed an unusual tactile feeling from his hand, raised an eyebrow, and took two consecutive leaps back to open up the distance.
In the very next moment, Neji performed the exclusive secret technique of the Hyuga Main Family—Eight Trigrams Palms Revolving Heaven.
His whole body spun rapidly like a top, pale blue Chakra diffusing outward with him as the center, forming a massive sphere of Chakra that carved a neat circular pit into the surrounding ground.
Seeing this, Mamoru gave a flippant whistle, though his eyes held a hint of appreciation. "This move is actually quite flashy."
Once Neji stopped spinning and stood in the pit panting slightly, he said with a look of relief, "Did you think I would let you push me around?"
"No one wanted to push you around." Mamoru spread his hands with an innocent expression. "It's you who insisted on shrinking into a ball and refusing to come out."
"Nothing you say now will shake me." Neji's voice was firmer than ever before.
"Then should I give you a little praise?" Mamoru chuckled.
"Cut the nonsense."
Neji's gaze suddenly became sharp as he said in a deep voice, "You are already within my Eight Trigrams field."
"Oh?"
Mamoru raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips curling into a half-smile. He deliberately tapped the ground with his toe. "Then what are you waiting for?"
Gentle Fist Art: Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms!
A confident smile appeared on Neji's face as he straightened his hands and slowly spread his arms and legs, assuming a starting stance never seen before.
—
Up in the stands, Hiashi was sitting on pins and needles, his face full of shock. Not only had a descendant of the Branch Family understood 'Revolving Heaven' on his own without being taught, but he had even mastered the 'Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms'.
How could he, the head of the Main Family, feel about such talent?
What was even more inconceivable to him was that an outsider was also using the Gentle Fist with such proficiency.
The shock brought by these short ten-plus minutes far exceeded that of the past half of his life.