Isshin remained expressionless and replied briefly: "Ashina Style, Isshin."
The moment the words left Isshin's mouth, Shimazu Shigekuni moved.
With a flick of his wrist, the heavy iron ball flew out first, arcing towards the ground to Isshin's side, intended to block and disrupt his position.
At the same time, he stepped forward, and the real killing move, the sharp scythe that followed the iron ball, silently slashed towards Isshin's ankle like a viper's tongue that suddenly struck!
The combination of mid-to-long-range suppression and unpredictable attacks is the essence of the Fūrinken Chain-Sickle Style.
In the blink of an eye, between the iron ball crashing to the ground and the scythe striking, Isshin moved with a series of swift, elusive steps, his body as swift as a willow in the wind.
With an almost intuitive precision, he narrowly avoided the scythe's eerie arc, while simultaneously taking a half-step back, just enough to clear the area where the iron ball might bounce up.
Seeing that his first attack had missed, Shimazu Shigekuni immediately changed his move. He pulled his arm back, the chains rattling, and the scythe and the iron ball seemed to be alive as they crossed in the air, one slicing off the head and the other sweeping toward the leg, the attacks coming one after another!
However, it seemed that Isshin had already seen through this attack pattern that intertwined reality and illusion.
He stopped retreating and, in the subtle gap between the old and new forces used in the chain technique, he suddenly stepped forward, and this time the katana in his hand was finally fully drawn!
Whoosh!
The blade flashed like a cascading waterfall, striking with even greater speed and a straighter path, aiming directly at the central axis of Shimazu Shigekuni's body, which he had to maintain by manipulating the chains.
Use offense as defense, and strike at the vital points!
Shimazu Shigekuni was shocked and hurriedly parried with his chain as he dodged to the side.
"Clang!"
The blade pierced the middle of the chain as Shimazu Shigekuni hurriedly returned to defend.
With a sudden jerk of his wrist, a tremendous force surged through the chains, causing Shimazu Shigekuni to feel a burning sensation in his palm as the chains nearly went out of control.
Isshin's blade momentum did not cease. The instant the thrust was blocked, he pressed downward along the chain. The blade slid against it, and the tsuba slammed heavily into the area beneath Shimazu Shigekuni's exposed ribs as he turned to the side!
"Bang!"
"Ugh!"
Shimazu Shigekuni cried out in pain, his burly body trembling violently as he staggered backward. His chain technique completely collapsed, leaving him wide open.
With unwavering focus, a swift and decisive kick struck him squarely in the chest and abdomen.
"Thump!"
Shimazu Shigekuni was kicked backward, his back slamming against the wall at the edge of the Dojo with a dull thud. He slowly slid to the ground, his weapon slipping from his hand, and he couldn't stand up for a moment.
Another battle, another clean and decisive victory!
These people's weapons are really strange and varied. Are these guys really swordsmen?
Isshin inwardly complained.
At this moment, the Dojo fell into a deathly silence, and the remaining dojo masters all showed deep fear and solemnity on their faces.
Soichiro Yagyu remained kneeling in the main seat, his face calm and composed, as if the outcome of the match had not stirred any emotion in him.
His gaze swept over the silent dojo masters on either side, his voice not loud, but carrying an invisible pressure: "Is there anyone else willing to step forward and offer guidance to this young swordsman who has traveled from afar?"
The owners exchanged glances.
Some subconsciously looked away, some lowered their heads to straighten their already neat clothes, and one coughed lightly, stroking his beard as if deep in thought.
For a moment, only the faint rustling of clothes and a slightly awkward silence remained in the Dojo.
The previous bravado and scathing rebukes have vanished.
"Snort!"
A muffled snort suddenly broke the silence, and Soichiro Yagyu's tall figure stood up, his wide haori hem fluttering even without wind.
He didn't look at anyone; his right toe simply flicked the end of the dark iron rod lying horizontally on the ground with a seemingly casual motion.
"Buzz!"
The heavy iron rod, made of an unknown material, flew up and transformed into a blurry black shadow, spinning and whistling as it flew towards the center of the Dojo!
And Soichiro Yagyu himself moved at almost the same moment.
His burly figure unleashed an astonishing speed that belied his size. He overtook the iron rod mid-air, and with a flick of his fan-like right hand, he firmly grasped the spinning weapon in his palm!
There was no declaration of war, no greeting, and not even a glance was exchanged.
While in mid-air, Soichiro Yagyu used the momentum of his forward charge and descent to grip the middle of the iron rod with both hands and smash it down head-on towards Isshin in the center of the arena with a powerful, earth-shattering force!
"Waaah!"
The iron rod pierced the air with a heavy, mournful wail, as if even the air itself had been crushed and pushed aside by this strike!
Before the iron rod even arrived, the pure, savage, and suffocating wind pressure had already hit them, violently pulling the stray hairs from Isshin's forehead backward!
Faced with this thunderous attack, Isshin showed no fear, but instead felt a burning fighting spirit.
His muscles bulged, he neither dodged nor evaded, he exhaled loudly, gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands, and unleashed a powerful upward slash from below, a simple yet forceful strike that concentrated all his strength!
"Good!"
"Clang!!"
The clash of swords and iron rods erupted with a metallic explosion far more terrifying than any previous clash, almost shattering everyone's eardrums!
At the same time, dazzling sparks burst like fireworks!
An indescribable, violent force surged through the blade, causing Isshin's specially made hard-soled boots to rub violently against the bluestone slabs, producing a teeth-grinding squeak sound. He slid back more than three feet, plowing two clear tracks into the ground.
His arm felt slightly numb, his blood was surging, but he was also shocked and excited.
What great strength!
However, even more shocked than Isshin was Soichiro Yagyu! His sure-fire, preemptive strike, aimed high above, had been blocked head-on by the boy in front of him!?
Moreover, the recoil force from the other end of the iron rod was heavy and tyrannical, causing his arms to tremble slightly and almost causing him to lose his grip!
How is that possible?
He was born with superhuman strength, and with decades of hard training, the power of his iron rod was enough to shatter boulders and steel. Ordinary samurai warriors would collapse at the mere touch of it. This young man not only received the blow but also had the strength to counterattack.
"What a strength!"
Soichiro Yagyu couldn't help but roar, his surprise instantly turning into a blazing fighting spirit.
The muscles in his arms bulged like twisted steel cables. The iron rod withdrew and thrust forward, changing from a smash to a stab, like a venomous dragon emerging from its lair, driving straight toward Isshin's chest and abdomen!
Faster speed and more concentrated power!
"Come on!"
Isshin laughed loudly, as if the ferocity in his bones had been aroused.
Instead of retreating, he advanced, twisting his waist and hips, and held the blade horizontally, using the thick guard and spine as a shield to meet the attack head-on once again!
"Thump!!!"
The dull thud was like the striking of a giant bell.
Isshin's body trembled, and cracks spread across the stone slab beneath his feet.
Soichiro Yagyu was also shaken by the recoil.
Their eyes met, and there was no longer any probing intent; only the primal exchange of strength and madness!
"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"
The center of the Dojo instantly became the eye of a storm!
Completely abandoning the art of maneuvering and technique, his swordsmanship became bold and unrestrained, each strike powerful and heavy, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound that tore through the air.
Whether slashing, chopping, or sweeping, Isshin constantly clashed with the flying black iron rod without any fancy moves!
Soichiro Yagyu's iron rod techniques were even more ferocious and violent, sweeping across the battlefield and showcasing the aesthetics of power to the extreme.
Gravel flew everywhere, and dust filled the air.
Each collision sent tremors through the entire Dojo, forcing onlookers to retreat in horror.
This was not the exquisite swordplay they knew, but rather two humanoid beasts wrestling in the most savage way!
However, amidst this suffocating exchange of attacks, the turmoil in Soichiro Yagyu's heart grew increasingly turbulent.