If one had to describe it, Tsunade and the others felt as though they were gazing upon a celestial being descended into the mortal world.
And compared to such a figure, they themselves were nothing more than insects—frail, insignificant creatures that could be crushed with the flick of his hand.
Hanzō of the Salamander's sickle slashed down with terrifying force—yet the blade halted abruptly against a shimmering, transparent barrier. No matter how much strength he poured into the strike, the weapon could not advance even a fraction.
That barrier was Raiden Takuma's Protective True Qi, a constant shield of spiritual energy that cloaked his body and repelled external attacks.
"Kenjutsu: Isshun—Flash Cut!"
Startled by the young man's strange abilities, Hanzō quickly switched tactics. His combat instincts were razor-sharp; he knew that no defense was flawless. As long as he could concentrate enough chakra into his weapon, he would eventually breach the barrier.
Channeling every drop of chakra he could muster into his poisoned sickle, Hanzō unleashed a ferocious strike toward the youth suspended in midair.
The pressure from that blow was suffocating. Below, Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru felt their hearts tighten—it was a technique that carried such killing intent that if any of them had been its target, they would have perished on the spot.
A sharp impact rang out. Hanzō's poisoned sickle struck Raiden Takuma's True Qi barrier, embedding itself deep within the shimmering field of energy.
Hanzō's face flushed red with exertion. Veins bulged on his temples as he strained to move the blade even an inch—but it was wedged immovably, as though sealed within solid stone.
"Ninjutsu is nothing special," Raiden Takuma murmured.
The words were quiet, a sigh of disappointment, but to Tsunade, Jiraiya, Orochimaru—and even to Hanzō himself—they fell like a peal of thunder.
Such terrifying ninjutsu, a strike that could have ended the life of any Konoha shinobi below, dismissed with such indifference? They could scarcely comprehend what kind of existence this youth truly was.
And yet, within Raiden Takuma's heart, there was a flicker of surprise. The sickle had managed to sink into his protective aura. By all rights, an attack of this caliber should not have affected his True Qi at all.
"System," he asked silently, "has my strength weakened?"
"Yes, Host," the mechanical voice answered in his mind. "A portion of your True Qi is currently being diverted to suppress the Mandara poison within your body. Your present strength is equivalent to the early stage of the Tribulation Crossing Realm."
A whole realm lower. Now it made sense—why Hanzō's strike had been able to leave even a trace against his defense.
"Still," Raiden Takuma's eyes narrowed, "that's all it amounts to."
He lifted his hand and lazily pushed forward, his palm drifting toward Hanzō as though carried by a breeze.
There was no visible force behind it. To the onlookers, it seemed feeble, harmless. But Hanzō's pupils dilated in horror. To him, facing it head-on, that soft palm carried the weight of death itself.
With a snarl, Hanzō swung up his poisoned sickle in desperation, interposing the blade between himself and the incoming palm.
Crack—!
The sickle shattered on contact, splintering into fragments that scattered across the battlefield.
And then—nothing stood between Raiden Takuma's palm and Hanzō's chest.
The strike landed.
A deep hand-shaped dent caved into Hanzō's torso, and an instant later his body was flung away like a fired cannonball, tearing through the air.
"What… what kind of taijutsu is this? I've never seen a single technique send Hanzō flying like that!"
Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru stared upward, their gazes blazing. Orochimaru's eyes, in particular, gleamed with dangerous fascination—full of yearning for the youth's overwhelming strength and the mysterious technique that rivaled an S-Rank jutsu.
Hanzō's body arced backward through the forest. Then, with a resounding boom, it burst apart—exploding into a crimson mist that scattered through the trees like a storm of blood.