Watching Fanma’s lightning armor—which resembled a miniature Susanoo—Setsuna’s eyes widened.
He had never imagined that this Uchiha clansman, who had always been so fixated on taijutsu, would actually engineer a “Taijutsu-style Susanoo” of his own!
Deep inside, Setsuna was shouting toward the spirit of the old clan patriarch, “Lord Madara, look at the genius in our clan!
In the time you’ve been gone, the children have turned into a weird, Senju-esque version of the Uchiha!” Suppressing his frantic joy, Setsuna blinked his eyes, which were already beginning to throb with pain.
“This seems troublesome.
Truly an extraordinary aura.” Tsunade curled her lips into a smile.
“This bastard is actually quite capable.” Fanma bent his knees slightly, a voice like rolling thunder emanating from his armor.
“Armor of Blood Lightning.
I invite you both to judge it.
This is the first time I’ve used this technique in combat, so… be careful.” He pushed off the ground with both legs.
The earth let out a groan of agony; seismic cracks tore through the training ground, and a sky-darkening cloud of dust billowed upward.
Fanma instantly lunged toward Tsunade.
Clearly, she could no longer keep up with the speed granted by his Blood Lightning Armor.
The gale stirred by his fist was already whipping against her ears, yet her eyes hadn’t even managed to focus on his location.
Setsuna could track his movements, but unfortunately, the interval between visual perception, cognitive processing, and shouting a warning was at least half a second—enough time for Fanma to land several heavy blows!
Fanma drove a heavy elbow toward Tsunade, the blood-red armor on his joint protruding like a serrated scimitar.
It wasn’t that he was being cold-blooded; he had to capitalize on this opening before Setsuna’s other ocular techniques came into play.
Sending Tsunade out of the ring would essentially secure his victory.
To Fanma’s astonishment, Tsunade managed to react from her state of shock.
Instead of dodging, she countered with a knee strike aimed straight for his midsection.
“BANG!” The two collided, and both were sent flying in opposite directions, carving deep furrows into the earth as they skidded to a halt.
Tsunade’s left hand swirled with green medical chakra, knitting the hairline fractures in her arm.
Her expression was grim as she whispered a warning to Setsuna: “Go all out.
This guy’s power won’t give us a second chance to fix our mistakes.” Fanma was deeply puzzled.
How is that possible?
Based on her neural reaction speed, she shouldn’t have been able to respond.
Furthermore, that elbow strike hadn’t even broken her bones—she had the raw strength to contend with him.
Looking down at his own stomach, he saw the armor had been compromised; a surge of sweet blood rose to his throat, and he spat it out.
Fanma narrowed his eyes at Setsuna, finally grasping the mystery.
“Clan Head, what a high-utility pair of Mangekyo eyes you have!” Setsuna smiled.
His left Mangekyo possessed potent restorative abilities, while his right eye allowed for massive chakra enhancement and heightened perception.
His only two wishes in life had been to see Madara Uchiha defeat Hashirama Senju and to save his younger brother.
Setsuna patted his slightly paunchy stomach and murmured, “Are you ready to face the pinnacle of the Uchiha clan?” Cold, malevolent ocular power swirled around Setsuna.
Rings of white Mangekyo chakra solidified in the air, forming a skeletal warrior that encased him—Susanoo: First Form!
Setsuna’s eyes were bloodshot.
The skeletal warrior slowly grew meridians and muscle tissue, and a long, snow-white katana materialized in its hand—Susanoo: Second Form!
This was the current limit of what Setsuna could endure; a Third Form would require the “Crow Tengu” armor, but his average Mangekyo couldn’t handle such a drain.
Fanma’s gaze was heavy.
The old man was pushing himself to the absolute limit.
“Yasaka Magatama!” A barrage of white magatamas rained down on Fanma, each the size of a grown man.
He dodged frantically, leaving a trail of violent explosions in his wake.
Tsunade seized the opening, lunging at him while he was cornered.
She leaped high, channeling a massive volume of chakra into her body.
“Heavenly Kick of Pain!” This strike was devastating—backed by the endless chakra provided by the Slug Sage, Tsunade’s own explosive strength, and reinforced by the Mangekyo’s perception.
Fanma planted his feet, muscles bulging, the blood-armor on his arms thickening.
He had no choice but to take it.
“BOOM—!!!” The Death Forest trembled as if struck by a massive earthquake.
The collision kicked up a sandstorm that blanketed everything for kilometers.
Kushina and Minato were tossed about like dolls, watching the incoming dust storm in total confusion.
The Third Hokage tapped the increasingly grim-faced Danzo.
“Get to work, old friend.” Danzo stepped forward silently.
“Wind Release: Vacuum Barrier!” The spectator platform was enveloped in soft, firm wind-chakra, becoming the only oasis of calm in the area.
In the center of the massive crater, the two remained deadlocked.
Tsunade smiled slightly at a sweating Fanma.
“How’s it feel this time, you unfaithful bastard!” Fanma managed a bitter smile.
What “unfaithful bastard”?
Where did that weird scenario come from?!
He realized that with the Mangekyo’s augmentation, Tsunade’s strength was now on par with his own.
The current battle was a game of initiative; whoever attacked first held the advantage.
With a twist of his shoulders and spine, he shed his momentum, spinning away like a top to dissipate the force of her strike.
Tsunade spat in frustration.
His taijutsu technique was simply too far ahead of hers.
Fanma sighed and slammed a hand into the earth.
“Summoning Jutsu!” As the smoke cleared, a black hawk the size of a helicopter circled into the sky.
Fanma shouted, “Dahei!
Execution: Tactics One.
Remember?” “Understood,” the black hawk croaked, climbing higher to circle at a safe altitude, scanning the battlefield below.
Tsunade laughed dismissively, ignoring the hawk—she saw it as a mere distraction.
Fanma felt the tearing pain in his arms; his bones were cracked.
He hadn’t been injured in a long time.
Indeed, the ninja world is vast and filled with heroes.
I must never underestimate them.
He looked toward Setsuna in the distance, silently calculating: The old man must be forcing himself.
At his age, he couldn’t have awakened those eyes recently.
So… Clan Head Setsuna, how much ocular power do you really have left?
Earn Them Together!