Kawaki Aoba stood silently in the sky, his gaze fixed on Isshiki Ōtsutsuki. Without hesitation, he struck first.
A near-invisible spear sliced through space, aimed directly at Kawaki Aoba's heart.
If it had been anyone else, they might've been caught off guard. But from the moment he arrived, Kawaki Aoba had blanketed the area with his most refined Observation Haki. Not even Isshiki Ōtsutsuki's microscopic spatial attacks could escape his detection.
The Zanpakutō in Kawaki Aoba's hand twitched subtly. A sharp clang rang out as the tip of the blade deflected something unseen. In the next instant, a wave of flames surged outward, reducing Isshiki's tiny chakra spear to ash.
"So this is the famed Ōtsutsuki power? All sneak attacks and arrogance?" Kawaki Aoba's voice dripped with mockery. "Is deception a requirement for interstellar travel, or are you just compensating for something?"
The words were like daggers. Isshiki's brow twitched with irritation.
"You ignorant native. If that woman hadn't ambushed me a millennium ago—at my peak—I would've crushed you like an insect."
Kawaki Aoba's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing. In the next heartbeat, he vanished.
Pa!
A crisp slap echoed across the land. Isshiki rocketed backward, crashing into a distant mountain. The shockwaves leveled the surrounding peaks.
Isshiki emerged moments later, battered, his left cheek grotesquely swollen. Even with the regenerative capabilities of an Ōtsutsuki, the damage refused to fade instantly.
"Oh? You actually came back out? I figured you'd crawl away and hide in your little pocket dimension."
Kawaki Aoba cracked his knuckles and rotated his wrist nonchalantly. To Isshiki, it was the ultimate humiliation. He, a noble main family member of the Ōtsutsuki clan—who once saw even Hagoromo and Hamura as insignificant—had just been slapped down by a mere earthling.
Even if Kawaki Aoba's current body was that of a "native," the force behind the slap spoke volumes.
As Isshiki opened his mouth, likely to retort, he suddenly froze.
Heat—intense and searing—erupted from within.
A sphere of fire ignited in his throat, burning his mouth and larynx from the inside. His regal composure gave way to writhing agony. If it were any normal shinobi, this would've been fatal. But Isshiki was an Ōtsutsuki. He endured.
Barely.
Kawaki Aoba extinguished the flames with a flick of his fingers. Isshiki collapsed, clutching his scorched face, now blackened and grotesque.
He glared at Kawaki Aoba with killing intent.
"What? Glaring now? You think your eyes alone can kill me? Tch. Try awakening a new dōjutsu in your next life."
Kawaki Aoba stepped forward, his voice low and taunting.
"Seriously, are you even an Ōtsutsuki? If your entire clan is as pathetic as you, then I've been worried for nothing. At this rate, even Konohamaru could wipe out your kind."
Even Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, watching from afar, furrowed her brow at his words. She, too, had once stood as a pillar of Ōtsutsuki might.
Isshiki—beaten, burnt, and insulted—said nothing. Not because he had no response, but because he chose to endure.
Yes, endure.
He was a survivor now. Without any branch family members to sacrifice, without a viable vessel for reincarnation, Isshiki's survival instincts outweighed his pride.
Kawaki Aoba knew. He saw the flicker of retreat in Isshiki's body language and posture. But he made no move to stop him.
He was enjoying it—the hunt, the humiliation, the chase.
Because that's the kind of man Kawaki Aoba was.
Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, observing the battle from the sidelines, had long known that Kawaki Aoba was immensely powerful—but the one-sided domination on display still exceeded her expectations.
She began to wonder if even she could escape from Kawaki Aoba's grasp.
Though relieved to have found a strong ally, unease crept into her heart as she considered what her future might hold.
But for now, nothing was more important than eliminating Isshiki Ōtsutsuki.
Suddenly, Kaguya felt a fluctuation in space.
Ever since she consumed the fruit of the God Tree, awakening heightened spatial perception and chakra sensitivity, Kaguya had become extremely attuned to shifts in dimensions—especially after mastering techniques like Yomotsu Hirasaka.
Far away, Isshiki Ōtsutsuki had silently linked to a distant dimension. The moment it happened, Kaguya sensed it.
Seeing Kawaki Aoba remain still, Kaguya's anxiety grew.
If Isshiki escaped, she'd be forced to remain vigilant for the rest of her life—never knowing when or where he might strike again.
Kaguya didn't want to live in fear—not in this world of shinobi.
Isshiki had to die—today, and without fail.
Determined, Kaguya decided to act. The familiar protrusion of bone—All-Killing Ash Bones—extended from her palm as the space behind her warped into a swirling black portal.
She was preparing a sneak attack—an old tactic.
A millennium ago, a surprise strike had allowed her to nearly destroy Isshiki. Now, she hoped to end him completely, even if it meant abandoning all notions of honor or martial ethics.
But just as she moved, a firm hand gripped her wrist.
It was Kawaki Aoba.
Kaguya was stunned. She turned to him, her expression confused, only to meet his eyes.
And somehow, without words, she understood.
Let him go. His time will come. He won't escape fate.
That's what she read in Kawaki Aoba's eyes. The unspoken communication surprised even her. When had they developed such unshakable mutual understanding?
"Observation Haki... I infused it with my will," Kawaki Aoba thought silently.
It wasn't a full-blown ability—just an application of refined perception, honed with mastery and experience. Naturally, he saw no need to explain it out loud.
Some things were better left in silence, especially when a bond of intuition had already formed.
While Kaguya and Kawaki Aoba shared that silent exchange, Isshiki Ōtsutsuki slipped through the spatial gate he had formed.
His plan was simple—survive.
As long as Kawaki Aoba remained in this world, Isshiki had no intention of confronting him again.
He'd wandered the ninja world for a millennium in search of a perfect vessel. Another thousand years wouldn't matter.
Even if he succeeded in finding a new host, Isshiki knew better than to provoke Kawaki Aoba again.
Despite his pride, he had accepted the bitter truth: Kawaki Aoba was overwhelmingly superior.
So instead, he would wait—return to the Ōtsutsuki homeworld, gather reinforcements, and one day return to teach this boy the cost of crossing the Ōtsutsuki Clan.
It was humiliating—but swallowing that humiliation was still better than letting it crush his pride.
Upon entering his private dimensional sanctuary, Isshiki finally relaxed.
Here, in his own domain, he was safe—isolated from external threats.
He began healing.
The physical injuries weren't serious. The slap Kawaki Aoba had delivered was simple brute force—easy enough to mend.
But the searing damage to his throat and mouth? That was something else entirely.
A strange flame had scorched even his bones. It resisted regeneration.
According to his estimates, it would take at least a year and a half to fully recover.
He cursed Kawaki Aoba under his breath.
Thanks to that monster, he might remain mute for a long while.
Meanwhile, outside, Kawaki Aoba still wore a serene, almost gentle smile.
He stared at the point where Isshiki had vanished, his aura-sensing ability already penetrating dimensional barriers—locking not just onto Isshiki's energy, but also detecting another violent presence lurking within that space.
Kaguya, still silent, lowered her gaze.
Even though Isshiki had slipped past her eyes, she didn't resist Kawaki Aoba's hand.
The oppressive power he radiated was too immense—even for an Ōtsutsuki like her.
For now, she could only wait and follow Kawaki Aoba's lead.
She didn't even dare to question him.
But then, a calm voice echoed beside her.
Kawaki Aoba had spoken.
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