Slaughter is undoubtedly one of the most horrific sights in the world—bloody, violent, and filled with death. No one could ever call it beautiful.
And yet, in this moment, Leo's killing spree carried a strange, tragic elegance.
Tragic for the Iwa-nin.
Beautiful—for Leo.
Behind the demonic Rakshasa Mask, a gleaming black blade danced through the rain of blood, cleaving enemies cleanly in half—without a single drop staining his sword.
In his arms, he carried a beautiful woman.
He cut through the battlefield like a phantom, unstoppable, unchallenged.
If all men could live so freely, what bliss that would be.
After a brief but devastating assault, nearly half of the Iwa-nin had already fallen.
Most were chūnin and genin, but even so, such losses were no small blow to Iwagakure.
These were their fresh blood—their future backbone.
But they had no idea who they were truly facing.
Leo had struck first, without hesitation, catching them completely off guard.
The result was a massacre.
By the time the elite jōnin Iwado finally realized the gravity of the situation, it was already too late—though not beyond redemption.
"Earth Release: Swamp of the Black Bog!"
Iwado's fingers blurred through five seals in a single second. He slammed both palms to the ground, and the earth beneath Leo's feet instantly liquefied into a thick, sucking mire.
The mud was viscous and heavy. Leo's feet sank in at once, his movements restricted as he slowly began to be pulled downward.
"This is one of Iwagakure's swamp techniques," Tsunade warned softly from his arms. "Once you're caught in it, it's hard to move at all."
Leo nodded slightly. He was already familiar with this jutsu—it wasn't the first time he had faced an Iwa-nin who used it.
The last time, it had been Aka-tsuchi, who used the same technique. Leo had escaped then by using Moon Step from the Navy's Six Styles to leap off the air itself.
As long as one's strength was sufficient, it was possible to break free of the Black Swamp's pull.
However, Iwado's version covered a massive area—even if Leo used the Moon Step to rise, he'd have to land again eventually… right back into the mire.
Before he could move, another Iwa jōnin—Ishiki—had already finished his seals.
"Fire Release: Flame Torrent!"
A blazing stream of fire erupted from his mouth—not aimed at Leo, but at the swamp itself.
The moment the flames touched the swamp, the bog ignited violently. In the blink of an eye, the entire hundred-meter radius became a sea of fire, burning like gasoline poured over oil.
"Cough… cough…"
"Combination jutsu," Tsunade murmured, her pale face bathed in the crimson glow of the fire. "Earth and Fire together. Iwa-nin are specialists at these fusions. The power's tremendous."
And this wasn't an ordinary flame. The fire reacted with the swamp, producing dense black smoke and waves of scorching heat, like molten ash from a volcano.
Leo sighed softly. "What a nuisance… I didn't want to use this yet. But since you're an elite jōnin, I suppose I'll have to get serious."
His voice dropped low—resonant, calm, and full of restrained power.
"Flame Commandment."
A wave of searing heat burst outward from his body.
Tsunade, closest to him, felt it first—the air itself seemed to burn, the temperature surging like a volcano about to erupt. Yet strangely, the heat didn't harm her at all.
Instead, it was warm… comforting.
Leo raised the Yama Blade—the demonic sword Enma—its black steel now sheathed in golden flames born from the Flame-Flame Fruit's power.
He swept his arm once.
A circle of fire sprang up from nothing, surrounding them completely.
The barrier isolated the suffocating smoke and turned the burning mire into a blazing inferno.
"Moon Step."
Leo leapt skyward, his feet kicking off the air itself as he rose above the battlefield.
Flames coiled around his right arm, flickering like serpents. His body shimmered between flesh and fire, partially elementalized—a god of flame descending upon the mortal world.
To the Iwa-nin below, he looked less like a man and more like a demon out of hell—his Rakshasa Mask searing itself into their nightmares.
Tsunade watched in awe, surrounded by gentle heat. The fire didn't burn her—it embraced her.
How could this be possible? No seals, no hand signs—what kind of power was this?
Leo's voice rang out cold and final:
"It's over."
"Fire Fist!"
His right arm fully elementalized. From above, he thrust his flaming fist downward.
A roaring column of fire eEXPloded toward the ground—an enormous, incandescent pillar that crashed into the swamp like a meteor!
Within that torrent, a colossal fist of flame materialized, descending with apocalyptic force.
The legendary Fire Fist had returned to blaze across another world.
"BOOM!"
The eEXPlosion was deafening. Golden fire surged outward, devouring everything.
The burning swamp evaporated instantly, leaving nothing but scorched, cracked earth behind.
The Iwa-nin froze in disbelief.
"What… what kind of ninjutsu is that?!"
"That giant flaming fist—it destroyed the Black Swamp completely! But that shouldn't be possible! The swamp feeds on fire—it thrives on it!"
Iwado's face went pale. "That sword style… Don't tell me—could he be Sakumo Hatake? But no… Sakumo isn't known for Fire Release!"
"I don't know," Ishiki muttered, his eEXPression grim. "But whoever he is… he's far more terrifying than Sakumo."
As the smoke cleared, Leo landed lightly on the baked ground.
He raised one hand toward the surviving Iwa-nin, his voice low and cold.
"Firefly: Flame Daruma."
His palm glowed with a faint emerald hue. From it, dozens of tiny, glowing fireflies drifted into the air, fluttering lazily toward the stunned Iwa-nin.
They looked harmless—beautiful, even.
"What is that?" one ninja asked, mesmerized.
"They look like fireflies," another murmured.
But Iwado's instincts screamed at him. His eyes widened in alarm.
"Don't touch them! Back away—now!" he roared.
Too late. Four or five shinobi already had the glowing insects resting on their clothes.
Leo's lips curved into a faint, icy smile.
He spoke a single word.
"EEXPlode."
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