Amamiya Raizen followed Miharu's quiet invitation into the stone belly of Nangka Shrine. The air inside felt old enough to have its own memories—dusty, cold, humming faintly with ritual chakra.
The first thing he saw was a massive stone statue: a samurai in full tengu armor, long sword raised high as if frozen a heartbeat before cleaving the world in half.
A tengu warrior guarding a shrine in the middle of nowhere.
Yeah. Nothing spooky about that.
Susanoo?
The thought came unbidden, crawling up the back of Raizen's mind.
Miharu guided him deeper, through sliding doors and dim corridors, until they reached the reception chamber. Raizen sat. The shrine elders sat opposite him. Everyone wore the kind of polite expression that belonged in hostage negotiations.
Masayori folded her sleeves neatly and spoke first.
"I am unsure what business brings Naruto-sama to Nangka Shrine."
Raizen didn't bother pretending.
"I'll keep this simple. I came for one thing—the Ten-Punch Sword. I want it handed over."
The air went sharp at once. Several onmyōji stiffened, breaths snagging in their throats.
"Hokage-sama," an elder hissed, face paling, "the Ten-Punch Sword is our sacred treasure. We cannot simply hand it out."
Raizen ignored him completely and faced Masayori, the one who actually mattered.
"Is that your stance as well, Masayori-dono?"
Masayori didn't flare up. She didn't even blink.
Instead, she asked with poised calm,
"And may Naruto-sama explain what he intends to do after obtaining the Ten-Punch Sword?"
Raizen wasn't about to say "I might need it to stab something cosmic and extremely unpleasant," so he went with a halfway decent lie.
"With all the great villages forming, Konoha needs a deterrent. A weapon other lands won't ignore."
The onmyōji went visibly rigid. Anyone with half a brain knew that was nonsense. Even a legendary blade wasn't going to cow an entire shinobi village.
Masayori exhaled softly. She wasn't fooled.
"Very well. You may desire the artifact… but you must prove you can control it."
Translation: Show us power or leave empty-handed.
Raizen nodded. "Fine."
Masayori clapped once. A junior priest hurried out and returned carrying a long, white-bladed sword with a curved tail like a pale serpent.
Raizen tilted his head. "This is the Ten-Punch Sword?"
Masayori lifted it reverently and passed it to him.
He accepted it—and… nothing. No resonance. No pressure. It felt like a well-made but otherwise ordinary blade.
Itachi used Susanoo to draw out its true ability. Maybe the key really is Susanoo itself.
Without a word, Raizen turned and walked outside. The priests hurried after him, whispering nervously.
He took one breath. His right eye rippled—black iris swelling into a deep, unnatural violet. Chakra surged out of him like a dam bursting.
"Susanoo."
The world shook.
Scarlet chakra blasted outward in a roaring shockwave. Several onmyōji were thrown off their feet entirely, slamming into the dirt with startled cries.
Outside the shrine walls, hidden Anbu instantly materialized, kunai drawn.
They saw the priests on the ground and Raizen standing amid chakra smoke and—naturally—assumed he was being attacked.
Blades flashed. Killing intent spiked.
Raizen barked,
"Stand down!"
Every Anbu froze mid-stride, then retreated behind him in disciplined silence.
Raizen rose atop Susanoo's towering forehead, looking down at the shrine priests.
The scarlet giant loomed over them, armored like a war god, eyes burning with ancient fury.
"This is…?"
A priest whispered, voice quaking.
"Susano-no-Mikoto's avatar…" another breathed, overwhelmed.
For the first time, the shrine's believers stood before the power they claimed to serve.
And it dwarfed them utterly.
Raizen raised the Ten-Punch Sword—then dropped it.
Susanoo's massive right hand caught the blade effortlessly.
Chakra flooded down the avatar's arm, surging into the white steel.
The sword vibrated, resonating with a rising hum, the air warping around it.
The Ten-Punch Sword awoke.
And its power didn't whisper—
It roared.