Two katanas clashed violently.
Yashiro Uchiha had opted for the most direct combat strategy.
Relying on the speed and strength he believed would utterly crush Aomizu, he sought to subdue his opponent in a single, raw, overwhelming strike.
Any exquisite technique or swordplay had to be built on a foundation of strength.
Otherwise, it was nothing but a reflection in the water or a moon in the mirror—seemingly flashy, but shattering at the slightest touch.
But judging by the look of shock on Yashiro Uchiha’s face right now, his calculations had completely fallen through.
Gripping his sword with both hands, Aomizu’s arm muscles bulged slightly.
Muramasa locked Yashiro’s blade in a vice grip as Aomizu said coldly, “Senior, are you going to abandon all the pride and glory of the Uchiha today?” “No matter who the opponent is, once you strike, you must go all out in the name of the Uchiha!” Yashiro’s face was grim as he strained with all his might against Aomizu’s power.
*I am fucking going all out!* he cursed inwardly.
*Is this brat actually from the Senju clan?
How is he so ridiculously strong?* *And saying stuff like that…
how the hell am I supposed to back down now?* Just as Yashiro’s concentration wavered for a split second due to Aomizu’s words, Aomizu suddenly pulled back the immense force of his heavy blade.
Still channeling his strength forward, Yashiro failed to recover his center of gravity in time and pitched forward violently.
Aomizu moved like a swimming dragon.
The enhanced perception of his Two-Tomoe Sharingan combined with his superior reflexes granted him immense mental clarity and a vivid field of vision as he moved—everything around him seemed to decelerate into slow motion.
He delivered a fierce, chilling slash, sweeping upward from the side of Yashiro’s abdomen!
He was going to disembowel him!
Alarm bells rang wildly in Yashiro’s head.
His shinobi instincts screamed in panic.
The Three-Tomoe in his eyes spun frantically as he threw himself backward with everything he had!
*Slash!* The sound of tearing fabric echoed.
Retreating over ten meters, Yashiro stared at Aomizu, his eyes filled with profound wariness.
A half-finger-deep gash now ran from his abdomen to his chest, brutally carved open by Muramasa.
Blood gushed continuously, staining the soil of the training ground a deep crimson.
“Brat, you’ve angered me…” Gritting his teeth against the pain, Yashiro swiftly tore his fine shirt and fashioned a quick bandage to stem the bleeding.
“In terms of kenjutsu, you are at least at the level of a Jonin within our clan.
Your strength is also absurd for an Academy kid…” “This match is indeed a case of me bullying a junior, but it’s for the sake of the Uchiha clan’s future.
And as you said, as an Uchiha, once the battle begins, one must go all out.” “I will offer you a sincere apology once I win.” “But now, I’m getting serious.” The Three-Tomoe in Yashiro’s eyes spun furiously.
In an instant, his kinetic vision enhanced dramatically!
A bloodthirsty red glow locked onto Aomizu’s figure.
This was the sheer pressure of a Three-Tomoe Uchiha in a one-on-one duel.
In single combat, opponents with insufficient Genjutsu resistance couldn’t even bring themselves to look an Uchiha in the eye.
They would spend the entire fight scurrying like rats and taking a passive beating, let alone defeating them.
Even if their Genjutsu resistance was high enough, the kinetic vision and copying capabilities of the Three-Tomoe Sharingan provided the Uchiha with massive amounts of intelligence, allowing them to seize the initiative the very moment the enemy made a move.
The Sharingan’s replication was not limited to Ninjutsu; the enemy’s Taijutsu would be copied as well.
“You are a genius, but before these eyes, all your tricks are about to become utterly useless…” Yashiro’s entire aura shifted, growing cold and brimming with confidence.
“Experience the power of the Sharingan.
No matter how proud a genius is, they will eventually curse their tragic fate of not possessing the Sharingan.” The corner of Aomizu’s mouth curled upward involuntarily.
He spoke softly to Tobirama Senju inside him, *Tobirama, I heard that back in the day, Izuna Uchiha said something very similar to you…* “Indeed.
He told me that many times,” Tobirama Senju smiled knowingly, crossing his arms as he spoke in a calm, proud tone.
“The last time I heard it was right before my Flying Raijin Slice pierced through his chest.” Aomizu’s fingers blurred, completing several hand signs in an instant.
[Genjutsu: Bringer-of-Darkness Technique!] Darkness descended upon the earth.
A pitch-black shroud, so thick that one could not see their own hand in front of their face, froze the twisted grin on Yashiro’s face.
But it wasn’t over yet.
Instead of rushing to attack, Aomizu continued to form hand signs: [Water Style: Hidden Mist Technique!] A dense, heavy fog blanketed the training ground.
Visibility plummeted rapidly, making it impossible to see even a meter ahead.
Although Shisui, who was watching from the sidelines, was not caught in the Bringer-of-Darkness Technique, he could not escape the Hidden Mist Technique covering the entire field.
Thus, he crept into a corner, silently choosing to watch.
As the first Uchiha to be thoroughly thrashed by Aomizu, he understood this feeling all too well.
It was that miserable sensation of losing control over the rhythm, making wrong moves at every turn, where even the most desperate resistance only left one looking utterly pathetic.
Little Shisui sat down leisurely on the ground and looked in Yashiro’s direction, a trace of pity actually flickering in his eyes…
Yashiro had wanted to mock Aomizu a bit more, but before he could, the inescapable darkness swallowed his vision.
“Hmph…
a mere Genjutsu dares to show off before the Three-Tomoe Sharingan…” Yashiro sneered.
The red light in his eyes flared as his visual prowess tore into the darkness like a sharp blade!
Yet, the darkness was not pierced.
Instead, Aomizu’s strike arrived.
A whistling slash came down hard right toward the crown of Yashiro’s head, bearing enough force to split him in two!
Yashiro was thoroughly shocked.
He truly hadn’t expected that a Three-Tomoe Sharingan would fail to dispel Aomizu’s Genjutsu!
What he did not know was that this technique, modified by Tobirama Senju from Hashirama Senju’s Genjutsu, also incorporated aspects of the Uzumaki clan’s sealing techniques.
It was far from a simple Genjutsu.
Trying to break this technique quickly using nothing but ocular power was exceedingly difficult…
At the very least, facing this darkness for the first time, Yashiro would need time to adapt.
Yashiro’s eyes nearly split from strain as he pushed his ocular power to its limit in an instant, blood vessels bulging in his eyes.
Yet even so, he could barely catch a faint trace of Muramasa’s blade trajectory!
As the cold, ruthless blade sliced down, Yashiro abandoned all dignity and rolled desperately to the side, dodging the fatal blow like a cornered beast!
But this time, another deep, flesh-tearing gash appeared on his arm.
*What the fuck…
I remember now!
This is the Genjutsu recorded in our clan’s annals—the one Tobirama Senju specifically developed to counter the Uchiha!
How does this kid know this technique?!* Yashiro gritted his teeth, but felt a strange, fleeting sense of relief in his heart.
*Thank goodness Tobirama Senju is dead.
If that bastard had lived for another twenty or thirty years, who knows how many more jutsu he would have developed to plague the Uchiha!* “Senior Yashiro, you need to focus.” Aomizu’s voice echoed through the darkness, ethereal and chilling.
“I don’t want to kill you, but don’t lose focus.
Otherwise, I will be forced to stain my hands with the blood of my own kinsman…” “With the next strike, I will target your left shoulder.”