Blades clashed, sparks flew, and every impact was accompanied by an earsplitting shockwave.
Saiki's strikes were like an endless, crashing tide, while Mifune responded with the explosive force of a thunderbolt.
The air was thick with the volatile, suffocating pressure of their chakra. The two silhouettes flickered in and out of the raging blizzard, every collision unleashing a terrifying surge of raw power.
Shock!
Absolute shock!
Nothing but pure, unadulterated shock!
The spectators held their breath, their hearts hammering against their ribs in time with the deafening clang of steel.
The samurai of the Land of Iron and the gawking civilians of Furuki Town all wore expressions of total disbelief. They had expected this to be a farce—a duel where Saiki would be swiftly and humiliatingly defeated. No one had anticipated a battle of this apocalyptic scale.
The civilians were slightly less affected; their eyes simply couldn't process the speed of the combatants. To them, it was just a blur of spectacular visual effects generated by the shockwaves!
Years ago, Mifune might have failed to block a single strike from Hanzo. But today, he was the living legend of the Land of Iron, their undisputed greatest Swordmaster.
His Quick Draw technique was legendary; it was said that Ninjutsu was useless against him because his blade would take your head before you could weave a single hand sign.
Yet, the speed and technique of the Land of Iron's First Swordmaster seemed frustratingly inadequate against this opponent who barely reached his chest.
Mifune was equally stunned. Every time their blades crossed, he was violently reminded of his duel with Hanzo all those years ago. His Kenjutsu felt just as powerless now as it had back then.
Saiki wasn't overthinking things. He was entirely focused on the mechanics of each strike, pouring his complete concentration into the tip of his blade.
Every slash was surgically precise and ruthlessly efficient. The water-natured chakra coiled around his blade moved like a living serpent, snapping and coiling toward Mifune with every swing.
It functioned like a high-pressure water-cutter, seeking to sever both the opponent's body and their will to fight.
The fusion of the water's momentum and his own kinetic force meant Saiki's strikes grew faster, heavier, and sharper with every passing second.
Conversely, Mifune felt his sword growing exponentially heavier. Every parry required significantly more effort than the last.
With every clash, the crushing recoil tore the webbing of Mifune's hands further apart. Blood slicked the hilt of his sword, and crimson droplets dotted the pristine snow and his polished armor.
Despite the brutal punishment, Mifune's defense remained unbroken. No matter how ferocious Saiki's assault became, he failed to leave a single scratch on Mifune's armor or flesh.
Saiki's overwhelming power put Mifune under immense pressure, but Saiki was equally awed by Mifune's resilience and skill.
Saiki was a child, but his "golden finger" granted him physical durability, chakra reserves, and reaction speeds that vastly outclassed Mifune. Yet, Mifune was holding his ground against the onslaught through sheer technical mastery and an unbreakable iron will.
The fact that Saiki couldn't break his guard proved that, purely in terms of Kenjutsu technique, Saiki had lost. He was only maintaining the offensive through brute strength, massive chakra, and superior reflexes.
Pant! Pant!
The ragged sound of heavy breathing cut through the ringing of steel and the howling wind. A flash of resolve passed through Saiki's eyes. After unleashing one final, explosive barrage, Saiki abruptly broke off the engagement and leaped backward.
The shockwave from his final push shredded the localized blizzard enveloping them, sending ice shards flying like shrapnel. The duel came to a sudden halt.
Under Saiki's relentless assault, Mifune was bleeding out and burning through his chakra at a terrifying rate; he was on the verge of total collapse. Saiki's sudden retreat gave him a desperate, badly needed moment to breathe. He looked at the boy in surprise.
Saiki stood there, regulating his breathing. He pointed his trembling blade at the snow, his eyes locked onto Mifune with profound respect. He spoke with a calm sincerity that made Mifune want to cough up blood. "Is this the pinnacle of your Kenjutsu? It is truly exquisite. Of everyone I have crossed blades with, no one can match your skill. I, Saiki Shiroya, declare you the strongest!"
He shouted the last sentence, his voice echoing across the open plaza. Instantly, the entire training ground fell into a dead silence.
A moment later, the samurai recovered from their shock and erupted.
"Damn you! Arrogant brat!"
"Insolent! Too damn insolent! You arrogant little shit!"
"Who the hell do you think you are?! You're just a brat still wet behind the ears, and you dare speak to Lord Mifune in that tone?! You dare judge his Kenjutsu?! Lord Mifune is the greatest Swordmaster alive!" The samurai roared in fury.
"Hahaha, what a fascinating young man," the tavern owner murmured in awe.
"Hey, hey, isn't that kid being a little too cocky? Lord Mifune is incredible!" a civilian in the crowd chimed in.
Instantly, a tidal wave of curses and shouts crashed toward Saiki.
In the crowd, Tsume Inuzuka couldn't hold it back. She let out a snort, followed by a loud, boisterous, ringing laugh.
Despite having been intimately "filled" by Saiki, her primary impression of him had always been that of a quiet, analytical, and modest boy. She had no idea he had such an adorably arrogant side.
Faced with the tsunami of noise from a crowd of powerless, ignorant spectators, Saiki ignored them completely. His expression remained utterly serious, his focus never wavering from Mifune.
His declaration wasn't mockery; it was genuine, heartfelt praise. Just like when Madara Uchiha, possessing the power of the Six Paths, was battered into coughing blood by Might Guy's Eight Gates, Saiki was genuinely thrilled that Mifune had managed to block his assault. He was acknowledging that his own technique was inferior.
It was important to remember that in terms of chakra capacity, physical durability, neural reaction speed, and raw Ninjutsu mastery, Mifune was vastly inferior to Saiki.
Mifune was physically exhausted from the rapid chakra drain; his hands were bleeding and his arms were screaming from the sheer impact; and because he lacked Saiki's reaction speed, he had to rely on extreme focus and decades of experience just to survive.
Furthermore, Saiki had fused the Nature and Shape Transformation of Water Style directly into his blade, exponentially multiplying its destructive power. Yet Mifune had blocked every single strike using nothing but fundamental chakra-flow Kenjutsu.
Of everyone Saiki had fought, Killer Bee arguably had the deadliest Kenjutsu.
But if Killer Bee fought Mifune in a pure sword duel, without relying on the Eight-Tails' power, Bee would likely be carved into sashimi.
Saiki's declaration initially gave Mifune the urge to vomit blood, but looking at the boy's earnest eyes and the terrifying power he had just displayed, Mifune realized Saiki wasn't mocking him.
Saiki was barely winded; he clearly hadn't used his full strength. Coming from someone who was undeniably stronger than him, this acknowledgment was the highest form of respect. It certainly wasn't an insult.
No more words were needed. The two warriors simply stared at each other, steadying their breathing and preparing their auras for the final, decisive strike.
As their presence peaked, an invisible, crushing pressure radiated outward, instantly silencing the screaming crowd.
At the absolute zenith of their power, both men unleashed their ultimate technique.
"Sword Style: Sky-Rending Slash!"
"Water Sword Style: Severing the Waterfall!"