Was Raikiri fast?
Too fast—so fast that it came with inherent flaws.
This kind of ultra–high-speed thrust attack was difficult to control, especially for Kakashi, who at this point did not yet possess the Sharingan.
Hagoromo, who was maintaining Chidori Nagashi, appeared slower in terms of absolute speed and lagged slightly behind Kakashi. But that did not mean he couldn't accelerate further. Rather, he deliberately held back, prioritizing flexibility and real combat effectiveness.
He was accustomed to shifting rhythm between fast and slow—disrupting the enemy's tempo before delivering a lethal blow.
That said, this was a temporary team-up. Talking about perfect coordination or tacit understanding would be nonsense. They weren't lifelong comrades who shared some mystical bond.
From a purely hierarchical standpoint, Biwa Jūzō was a jōnin—an elite jōnin, no less—and a renowned member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist.
Hagoromo was only a chūnin.
Kakashi was also only a chūnin.
But did they fear Biwa Jūzō?
Of course not.
Because… they had numbers.
Kakashi and Biwa Jūzō charged straight toward each other—and collided!
Almost simultaneously, both launched their attacks.
Kakashi was faster.
Sharper.
More decisive.
But his attack path was also far too linear.
His low posture nearly slammed him straight into Jūzō's chest, lightning blazing as his palm stabbed toward the man's heart.
At that moment, Jūzō shifted techniques.
With a simple sidestep to the left, he evaded the Raikiri. The Executioner's Blade was too long and heavy to swing in time—but he attacked anyway.
Gripping the hilt with both hands, he smashed the pommel straight toward Kakashi's throat.
A blunt weapon should never be underestimated. If that cylindrical mass connected, it would have punched a hole straight through Kakashi's neck.
Yet Kakashi still managed to react.
He snapped his arms together, blocking the blow.
He had equipment.
Steel forearm guards—secured tightly to his arms.
Ever since a certain conversation two years ago, Kakashi had clearly modified his fighting style. He deliberately limited his maximum speed, leaving room for maneuverability and reaction.
Even so, the sheer force of the impact sent him flying. Unable to stop his momentum, Kakashi lost balance and rolled across the water's surface.
Biwa Jūzō was not the kind of shinobi to waste such an opening.
Twisting his body, he turned toward Kakashi and swung the Executioner's Blade—
A horizontal slash aimed at the waist!
If it landed, whether cut or cleaved upward, Kakashi would be split clean in two.
This was exactly why the Seven Ninja Swordsmen were so infamous. Weapons of that size demanded enormous physical commitment to wield—flashy, excessive, and fundamentally unsuited to conventional shinobi combat.
Only specialists could use them.
But this wasn't a one-on-one duel.
This was two versus one.
The instant Jūzō turned his attention to Kakashi—
Hagoromo accelerated.
Explosively.
At a speed even greater than Kakashi's, he closed the distance in an instant.
The Executioner's Blade never completed its swing.
Two lightning-wreathed hands slammed down onto the flat of the blade.
Violent Lightning Release surged across the metal, the blade's surface whitening under the electrical discharge.
Jūzō's grip went numb.
Then, a heartbeat later—
His entire body followed.
Paralysis.
Jūzō clenched the hilt with both hands, trying desperately to yank the blade free.
Hagoromo didn't oblige.
He forced the blade downward, drove with his shoulder, twisted his waist—and spun.
His left leg whipped out like an iron flail wrapped in lightning, smashing toward Jūzō's head.
Did it hit?
A shinobi like Jūzō possessed monstrous physical reflexes. Even under partial paralysis, he forcibly twisted his torso and barely evaded the strike.
He tried again to retreat with the blade—
But Hagoromo kept pressing it down.
Switching hands, using his arm as an axis, he continued rotating.
Left leg finished.
Right leg followed.
In the tug-of-war over the Executioner's Blade, Hagoromo's legs became a relentless storm of kicks.
No matter how absurd Jūzō's reaction speed was, there was no way to dodge everything while trapped within the range of Chidori Nagashi.
He was struck—again and again.
If one were to commentate this act of killing from the perspective of professional athletics, Hagoromo's form was elegant, his movements fluid.
The sequence went something like this:
Kakashi charged straight in, failed, and was forced into a three-and-a-half–rotation tumble.
Then Hagoromo entered the field, using the Executioner's Blade as a pommel horse—and executed a flawless spinning combination.
To be fair, if Jūzō had been willing, he could have escaped.
All he had to do was let go of the Executioner's Blade and exit the range of Chidori Nagashi.
But he refused.
This was precisely why they were called the Seven Ninja Swordsmen. Their weapons were not just tools—they were symbols of identity. Letting go was unthinkable.
Hagoromo had counted on that.
He knew Jūzō wouldn't drop the blade at first contact. And since Jūzō wouldn't let go—
Neither would he.
After all, the one getting electrocuted wasn't Hagoromo.
Suddenly, the lightning around Hagoromo seemed to fade.
For an instant, Jūzō felt a flicker of relief—
Then the lightning exploded.
Not the same level as before.
Not even close.
The iron gourd on Hagoromo's back split apart—upper and lower sections unfolding like two black spiders.
Sixteen spider-like limbs snapped open in an instant.
Like a black flower blooming.
A beautiful flower—
That devoured men.
Sixteen iron-sand lances, crackling with lightning and vibrating violently, pierced forward from multiple angles—
And impaled Biwa Jūzō's body simultaneously.
At that moment, Kakashi—his Raikiri still active—returned.
The finishing blow was his.
Jūzō was completely immobilized.
There was no possibility of missing.
Kakashi reversed direction in a flash, lightning flooding his palm—
And in Hagoromo's vision, that lightning-filled hand expanded rapidly.
Because Kakashi had already pierced straight through Jūzō's chest.
Like a red paint barrel riddled with dozens of holes, blood poured endlessly into the sea.
From first contact to the end of combat—
Less than two minutes.
And that included Hagoromo's pointless chatter.
Actual combat time?
Not even thirty seconds.
And just like that, a legendary member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen fell.
Once again—
This was two versus one.
Fame didn't grant extra lives on the battlefield.
Shinobi combat was always like this. One misjudgment meant death. In another place, under different circumstances, they might have fought for an hour.
But here—
The battle was already over.
And the classic series—
"Did it start? No, it already ended."
—had gained yet another entry.
PS: I've been releasing chapters daily . Honestly, it hurts seeing almost no support on Patreon after all that work.If you're enjoying the fic, even a little, supporting me would mean a lot. It helps a student stay independent .
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