Hii Kōri's pupils suddenly contracted.
He had always prided himself on his exceptional perception. Even while needing to communicate with the Dragon Pulse, one of the segmented minds he kept had always maintained a share for observing the outside world.
With the assistance of his Spirit Thread Nerves, even excluding the full exertion of Kagura Mind's Eye, his sensory abilities remained in the first tier of the current ninja world.
Yet before this moment, Hii Kōri had completely not detected this mysterious person's existence.
No breath, no body temperature, no sound, no chakra fluctuations—nothing at all. It was as if he were a ghost condensation from thin air. Even now, witnessing this figure draped in a pitch-black cloak, his face hidden beneath the hood's shadow, Hii Kōri still felt the other's existence was quite frivolous, as if a layer of constantly rippling water separated them.
His gaze quickly swept over Akane, collapsed on the ground, confirming she was merely unconscious and in no danger of life. Then he locked all his attention onto this uninvited guest.
But the more he concentrated on perception the other party, the harder it was to feel even a single piece of exact intelligence. Instead, that vague, ambiguous sensation muddied his perception to the point of dizziness, like being drunk.
It's almost like... wearing a Perception Obstruction Mask myself.
Friend or foe unknown. Intent unclear. To appear within the Dragon Pulse barrier without warning like this... Did he follow me all the way here, or...
From the other party, he felt a familiar yet violent anomaly sensation. Hii Kōri forcibly suppressed the discomfort that nearly made him vomit, thinking thus.
"And who might you be, sir?"
Seeing that the other party showed neither desire to converse nor further intention to attack or take hostages, but merely stood there silently, Hii Kōri slightly narrowed his eyes, flexed his fingers, and broke the frozen air first.
His steady voice echoed in the empty tower, exceptionally clear, as he attempted to probe for some clue with words.
Yet the figure, completely hidden beneath the heavy pitch-black cloak, merely shifted slightly—not even the faint sound of fabric escaped rubbing.
"..."
After a moment, the mysterious figure leaned forward slightly, then threw back the cloak and raised an arm.
His hands also wore gloves of material similar to the cloak, making features difficult to discern. In his hand he held an unadorned straight-bladed longsword. The blade, apparently specially treated, reflected none of the surrounding fluorescent stone or ever-burning lamp light. It was entirely a dull black, as if it would devour all light.
The mysterious figure slowly raised the blade, his movement steady without a tremor. The tip pointed directly at Hii Kōri.
The meaning could not be clearer.
"Ha... fight first, talk later, huh."
Seeing this, Hii Kōri clicked his tongue. The slight professional smile on his face instantly disappeared, replaced by a natural solemnity and coldness.
His swinging arm crossed sharply before his chest, and his usual three-section combat staff fell into his hand.
"I don't dislike this kind of hot-blooded, straight-forward attitude. But your timing is really—"
Before he finished speaking, Hii Kōri, gripping the staff still carrying a lingering coolness, spun and swung out two horizontal choppers.
"Terrible!"
The Wind Release Kamaita slash severed his words along with the air, emitting a sharp whistle. One swept toward the black-clad figure's sword arm; the other aimed at his chest and abdomen.
Simultaneously, a mass of Iron Sand swept Akane up and delivered her to the platform on the other side.
Hii Kōri closed in, trying to force this mysterious person backward. This place housed Rōran's sealed Dragon Pulse spout. If it were damaged, what chain reaction might occur, Hii Kōri couldn't say.
If they had to fight, they needed a place where they could really open up.
But the mysterious figure neither dodged nor avoided. He merely flicked his cloak, completely neutralizing the two slashes. Then, concealed beneath the dark cloak, he thrust his sword at an extraordinarily tricky angle.
In the absence of detectable chakra flow, such simple means were indeed exceptionally useful.
"Tch!"
Hii Kōri irritably spat. The staff in his hand danced like a living creature. The left section detached and down split, with pinpoint precision blocking this insidious thrust.
Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang—a series of piercing metallic clashes exploded in the empty tower. The staff, twining Wind Release chakra, and the black blade sparked repeatedly.
In just a few breaths, the two had already clashed countless times.
But in this process, Hii Kōri increasingly sensed a subtle familiarity from the other party.
Even though appearance and build were completely unreadable, and things like aura and presence were vague, the other's moves, force application methods, pace and rhythm, even the Wind Release technique mixed into thrusts and slashes...
Even the pitch-black cloak on the other party, which seemed almost alive, gave him an inexplicable sense of déjà vu.
Even if the other had deliberately tried to conceal it, how easily could patterns in the flesh be changed? Rather, this nondescript, lame acting only stood out more.
These moves, and the means of hiding identity... Ha, what the hell. Someone closely connected to me that I don't recognize?
A future enemy? Doesn't seem like it... Then a disciple? Or another world's me?
Though somewhat beyond imagination, having personally experienced reincarnation after death, Hii Kōri's imagination wasn't that narrow.
Thinking thus, Hii Kōri's three-section staff lifted a sharp wind blade, then locked the connecting buckle, propped himself on the staff, and kicked out.
The black-robed figure unhesitatingly retreated. The black cloak lifted again like a living thing. Hidden beneath, his wrist flipped, and the black blade transformed from thrust to slash—a fierce horizontal cut instantly sweeping toward Hii Kōri.
Against such plain slash, Hii Kōri, flipping to land, originally intended to trade offense for defense. Using the staff's length advantage, he would penetrate inside the other's attack range before the slash fully formed, parry, and then counterattack.
But just a moment before stepping forward, he suddenly felt an instinctive throbbing.
The sudden change in movement brought a stab of pain from injury. Yet Hii Kōri had no leisure to notice such minor injuries.
He had just dodged sideways in a rather awkward posture when the next moment, he saw that slash—no, the black blade itself—suddenly extend several segments.
If his accumulated combat instincts hadn't warned him, and he had still responded according to habit, he would probably have had his shoulder pierced by now, or even lost an arm.
"Ha, this is no coincidence!"
Having reconfirmed that the other party seemed quite familiar with his combat habits, Hii Kōri momentarily found it difficult to make a more accurate judgment. By comparison, the black blade in the mysterious figure's hand was more eye-catching.
The other's strength was still somewhat inferior to Hii Kōri's. Yet this combat staff, which had accompanied him through thousands of days and nights of battle, had indeed been cutting out several obvious gashes by that extendable black blade.
Although this three-section staff wasn't made of some rare precious material—just ordinary high-quality steel and chakra-conductive metal—it was still a masterpiece, refined over years, and its strength has long surpassed ordinary famous swords.
Yet now, with the other's strength obviously weaker than his own, and he being the one parrying, just one contact had allowed the blade to easily cut in. This truly astonished Hii Kōri.
"Kusanagi sword?"
Kusanagi, Kusanagi-no-tsurugi, Tsumugari-no-tachi, Kusanagi-no-tachi, Tsumuba-no-tachi, Ame-no-murakumo-no-tsurugi... In Hii Kōri's previous world, these names all referred to the same treasured sword, which, along with Yata-no-Kagami and Yasakani-no-Magatama, was called one of the "Three Sacred Treasures."
Legend held that it was the divine sword discovered by the god of war and sea, Susano'o, from the tail of the Yamata no Orochi after slaying it—a blade that even chipped his original sword, Amenohabakiri.
But why so many names?
You don't need to understand Japanese mythology that clearly.
In any case, in the Naruto world—which obviously referenced much mythological content—this most famous "divine sword" in Japanese history could not be absent. And perhaps due to its abundance of names, in this world, Kusanagi seemed to exist in as many copies as there were names.
These Kusanagi blades each had different abilities, but their only commonality was that they almost all possessed the characteristic of "indestructibility."
Seeing the black blade's performance, it was presumably one of those indestructible blades.
Faced with Hii Kōri's question, the mysterious cloaked figure remained silent. Hii Kōri took it as acquiescence.
This round of confrontation proved that this mysterious person also didn't want to destroy this place. He hadn't used any large-scale destructive techniques, and even now showed no intention of pursuing. He merely assumed a proper stance, waiting for Hii Kōri's next move.
Seeing this, Hii Kōri's eye twitched. An inexplicable impulse arose in his heart to kick this guy's ass hard.
Not talking, acting like a Cool master, huh?
"Really letting yourself be arrogant, aren't you."
Casually tossing aside the staff, which could no longer serve for blocking, Hii Kōri craned his neck rather unhappily. The Seven Essence Release Gates all opened in an instant. His figure disappeared from the spot even before the sound of the staff piercing the wall emerged.
The next moment—"BOOM!!!!!"
That statement, obviously filled with irritation, was drowned in the thunderous impact of fist meeting brick platform.
The point of impact of the fist, twined with cursed energy sparks and chakra aura, had already turned to dust. Wide cracks, as if about to tear the platform apart, spread from countless broken bricks, extending until they reached twenty or thirty meters up the
tower walls and void before gradually thinning.
"!"
The mysterious figure, who had leaped midair just barely dodging this blow, apparently stiffened for an instant—seemingly not expecting Hii Kōri to be so unrestrained in this underground space sealing the Dragon Pulse spout.
Just as he reached out, intending to convey something with gestures, he suddenly felt as if a train had hit his chest.
"Didn't your teacher teach you—"
A figure, exceeding the limit of his vision, shot out from the rising dust. The simple fist, wrapped with blue-black flames, embedded deeply into his chest. The powerful force transmitted through his body, bursting behind him with a striking white mark.
"—when your speed is inferior, you don't jump around recklessly?!"
"BOOM!"
Accompanying Hii Kōri's words—unclear whether rebuke or admonition—the cloaked figure's body, like a piece of silk paper tossed into the wind, was slammed back onto the platform below. Rolling, he carved a gully, and with another boom, violently slammed into the tower wall.
Not having time to catch his breath, the mysterious cloaked figure forcibly suppressed the dull pain in his chest and back—as if struck by a heavy hammer—and quickly crawled out of the dissipating dust.
Then, he came face to face with four Hii Kōris, surrounding him, each wrapped in blue-black cursed energy lightning.
"...?!"
What the hell is this?!
Although enhanced by chakra, a ninja's dynamic vision had considerably improved compared to ordinary people. But without decisive changes in life structure—
—such as dōjutsu kekkei genkai, or simply mechanical transcendence—the principles of a ninja's vision remained the same as ordinary people's.
Human vision relies on a series of processes: the eye's lens focusing, photoreceptor cells sensing light, and converting light signals into nerve impulses transmitted back to the brain.
In this process, photoreceptor cells require certain visual pigments to complete light sensing, and the formation of these pigments also needs time.
Thus, when humans observe scenes and objects, the process of light signals transmitting to brain nerves briefly stalls on the retina. And when the light stimulus ends, the visual image does not immediately disappear either.
Vision, as the sensory organ occupying over 70% of conventional perception, is naturally an extremely important part of ninja combat. No matter how skilled in perception, as beings with eyes, instinct will still rely on this most intuitive perception.
This is also why Uzumaki clan members, including Hii Kōri, must close their eyes to block vision when maximizing using Kagura Mind's Eye.
Although for ninjas, more adapted to high-speed combat in short timeframes, this visual persistence effect is even briefer.
But if, within the gap of approximately 0.03 to 0.1 seconds, one can cause their continuously moving position to overlap with the not-yet-dispersed afterimage, then one can achieve this kind of "Clone Technique" in terms of visual perception.
And compared to physical clones like Shadow Clones, the greatest advantage of this seemingly thankless technique is...
"Every punch I land on you is thrown by my own hand~"
"..."
***
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