Chapter 195: Chapter: 193

Hey guys, here is the new chapter hope you will liked and read thru everything.

If we hit 150 PW I post a extra chapter.

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The dust in the western district did not settle; it vibrated to the rhythm of every echoing blow that tore apart the street's flagstones. The carnage unleashed following Yaoki's abrupt death had transformed the quiet residential sector into a labyrinth of rubble, fire, and impact craters.

However, in the center of this storm of debris, the frontal collision between two true monsters of hand-to-hand combat monopolized all the tension in the air.

Kisame Hoshigaki leaped backward with extreme agility, keeping Samehada tilted over his right shoulder. A broad, grotesque, jagged grin stretched across his bluish face, exposing a row of sharp fangs as his narrow yellow eyes gleamed with wild, insatiable delight.

In front of him, less than ten meters away, Arangi stood erect at his imposing height of two meters. His Akatsuki cloak billowed gently like a cape driven by warm air currents, clearly revealing his unbuttoned linen shirt, his bare chest scarred by ancient boarding actions, and the hilt of his heavy pirate cutlass.

"This is simply marvelous!" Kisame exclaimed with a raspy laugh, executing a full spin with his monstrous sword before planting his feet firmly on the cracked earth.

"It has been quite a few years since I last encountered an opponent whose kenjutsu carried such an absurdly explosive and brutal weight. The vast majority of swordsmen I've crossed paths with in the Five Great Nations rely far too much on ninjutsu or enhancing techniques, on the speed of the thrust, or on unnecessary flourishes, only to break at the very first impact of my Samehada. But you... every slash of that cutlass of yours isn't a simple sword attack; it literally feels as if someone were firing a naval cannon at point-blank range right into the middle of my face."

Arangi did not alter the icy indifference of his expression in the slightest. He raised the heavy pirate cutlass using a single hand, wielding the curved blade with a truly terrifying physical ease.

The ancient and mystical markings intertwined on the exposed skin of his chest, arms, and the palms of his hands seemed to intensify their dark shade beneath the scorching light of the desert sun.

"Where I come from, in the forgotten and untamable seas of the south, the weak don't survive even the first three seconds of a boarding action," Arangi spoke, his voice grave, raspy, and deep.

"I always thought the famous legendary swordsmen of the great villages were merely names blown out of proportion by drunkards' tales in harbor taverns. However, I must admit that being able to hold that piece of scales against the edge of my blade without your body being torn apart by the shockwave is a merit very few men in this world can boast of. Where I come from, there is absolutely nothing fun about fighting weaklings who break at the first contact."

"Then let's stop wasting time with stupid warm-up walks and show what we can really do!" Kisame roared fiercely.

In a burst of pure speed that kicked up a cloud of dust behind him, Kisame lunged wildly forward. No longer limiting himself to executing calculated parries or deflections, he unleashed a devastating barrage of horizontal sweeps, thrusting stabs, and diagonal slashes, imbuing every movement of Samehada with the raw, superhuman mass of his own body.

Kisame's kenjutsu did not seek elegance; it was a style based on relentless pressure, battering his enemy with the crushing weight of a scaled iron mass weighing nearly one hundred kilograms. Every swing of Samehada opened furrows in the clay walls and split the air with a terrifying hiss.

Arangi, far from being intimidated or yielding ground, responded with the exact same destructive ferocity. His kenjutsu style was an amalgam of heavy fencing, aggression, and raw, savage force.

Instead of stepping aside, Arangi stepped forward, using the center of gravity provided by his two-meter height to pivot on his boots and deliver diagonal axe-like chops that sliced through the air with hydraulic power.

CLANG! BOOM! CLANG!

The continuous clash of their weapons did not produce the sweet, fine metallic ringing of two conventional swords; it produced dry, deep detonations that shattered the windows of adjacent buildings, collapsed terracotta roofs, and sent physical pressure waves that cracked the stone flags of the ground in a twenty-meter radius.

"Take this!" Kisame yelled, spinning on his heels to deliver a murderous backhand slash aimed at Arangi's neck.

Arangi intercepted the gigantic Samehada by placing the reinforced spine of his cutlass at a perfect forty-five-degree angle. The impact generated a monumental spark of friction that illuminated the alleyway. Without losing momentum, Arangi flexed his left arm and delivered an elbow strike packed with pure muscle mass directly into Kisame's sternum.

THUMP!

The blow reverberated like a sledgehammer striking an anvil. Kisame felt the air shoot out of his lungs, but instead of retreating, he gritted his teeth, leaned his head forward, and delivered a fierce, unexpected headbutt straight to Arangi's nasal septum.

Both men staggered a step back from the raw force of the head-on collision, bleeding slightly from their mouths and noses, but the maniacal smiles that spread across their faces revealed that they were barely beginning to enjoy the slaughter.

Arangi was the first to regain his footing, executing a two-handed downward chop with an impulse so explosive that it literally sank the stone ground beneath Kisame's feet by more than half a meter. The Sand shinobi capitalized on the tremendous seismic vibration of the impact to perform a backward aerial flip, swiftly placing the palms of his hands on the dirt ground and weaving a complex, nearly invisible sequence of hand seals without needing to stand up.

"Suiton: Suikōdan no Jutsu ! (Water Release: Water Shark Bullet Technique)"

Drawing upon the vast reserve of chakra within his internal pathways, Kisame spat a massive, high-pressure torrent of water directly from his throat.

The liquid volume molded and hydrated in a matter of microseconds in the desert air, instantly transforming into three gigantic water sharks, each over six meters long.

The aquatic projectiles roared with the sound of a raging storm surge, sweeping down the street at over one hundred kilometers per hour, destined to grind Arangi's bones, crush him against the walls, and drown him under tons of concentrated hydraulic pressure.

Executing a Water Release Ninjutsu of such scale and density amid the arid, dry climate of the Sand desert was a high-level feat that would have left any conventional shinobi devoid of chakra reserves or at an absolute tactical disadvantage.

However, Arangi didn't even attempt to dodge the aquatic onslaught. He didn't even make a move to lift his heavy pirate cutlass to try to slice through the torrent.

Under Kisame's extremely attentive and analytical gaze, Arangi took a firm step forward and slowly raised the palm of his left hand toward the sky.

At the exact center of his open palm, the complex dark diamond tattoo and ancient runes began to emit a deep, dense red glow. A terrifying gravitational, magnetic, and chakra distortion formed instantly around his stiff fingers.

FZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

At the exact millisecond the three massive water sharks collided head-on with Arangi's extended palm, the expected massive water explosion did not occur, nor was the typical hydraulic shockwave generated.

The gigantic water stream seemed to freeze and crumple in midair, spiraling violently toward the center of the glowing palm as if being relentlessly sucked into a bottomless, inescapable abyss.

In less than two agonizing seconds, the thousands of liters of high-pressure water and the massive quantity of Water Release chakra composing them completely vanished from the physical plane, dissipating cleanly and invisibly into Arangi's skin without leaving a single drop of moisture to fall upon the burning desert earth.

Kisame froze completely on the spot where he had landed, opening his narrow yellow eyes wide. His jagged shark grin vanished entirely for a long moment of perplexity, replaced by a look of deep and genuine tactical surprise.

"What the hell... just happened here?" Kisame muttered in a low hiss, tightening his grip on Samehada's hilt.

"Did he absorb my water jutsu directly into his body? That wasn't a defensive barrier technique, nor a Earth Release cancellation, nor a conventional dispersion seal... That was..."

"Dark Release (Meiton)," Arangi declared in an icy, unflappable voice, slowly lowering his left hand as a fine, dense violet steam began to gently emanate from the pores of his exposed skin.

"An ancient, forgotten art that devours, disintegrates, and processes the elemental chakra of enemy techniques to instantly convert it into my own reserve of physical strength and energy. Your highly acclaimed water techniques are nothing more than a simple glass of refreshment for me, sand shark."

Kisame remained in absolute, deathly silence for three long seconds, processing the true nature of his opponent's ability. Suddenly, a low, gut-wrenching, raspy, and maniacal laugh began to bubble up from the depths of his throat.

"Hahaha! This is simply fantastic! It is absolute genius!" Kisame exclaimed, running his tongue over his sharp upper fangs with overwhelming excitement.

"A guy capable of devouring, absorbing, and neutralizing ninjutsu and chakra directly with the palms of his own hands... Standing right in front of a living sword like Samehada, which lives, breathes, and exists solely for the purpose of devouring and shredding the chakra of every living being it touches."

Kisame dramatically raised Samehada above his head.

The thick white cloth bandages wrapping the weapon's exterior tore loose and fell to the ground in strips, completely revealing the sword's grotesque dark-blue scaled skin and the gigantic, hungry, tooth-filled maw that opened wide at the tip of the blade, emitting an acute, excited squeal upon sensing the immense, appetizing amount of chakra emanating from Arangi's body.

"This has stopped being a simple contest of swordsmen or a clash of kenjutsu schools," Kisame declared, adopting an extremely low and serious defensive stance, ready for the carnage.

"This has become an authentic battle of predators to prove which of us two is the ultimate and most fearsome devourer in this world."

Arangi smiled for the first time since setting foot in Sunagakure, exposing a set of sharp fangs that matched Kisame's own in ferocity. He flexed the thick fingers of his left hand, where the Meiton tattoo flared up again with a hungry, menacing violet glow.

"Come on then," Arangi challenged, lowering his heavy cutlass at a lethal angle. "Let's see who gets to keep every last drop of the other's chakra."

Without needing any more words, both monsters of battle threw themselves at each other in a violent frontal impact.

Samehada sought to tear Arangi's skin to suck out his internal reserve, while Arangi's Meiton palm attempted to intercept the surface of the living sword to snatch away its accumulated chakra.

The clash of kenjutsu and absorption taijutsu became a whirlwind of red sparks, physical tears, and pressure waves that continued to reduce the village's western district to ashes and rubble.

While the western district transformed into a fierce arena of mutual devouring, the upper structure and ledges of the Great Desert Colosseum were being tinged with a bright, blinding, and extremely destructive white glow.

The VIP box where, just minutes prior, the leaders of the Five Great Shinobi Nations had been seated, lay completely reduced to ruins. The luxurious cedarwood platform, decorative columns, and reinforced stone slabs had been utterly pulverized by Ōnoki's initial stone-spike formation.

Now, the monumental battle to the death between the Third Tsuchikage and Kazekage Daigo unfolded directly in midair, utilizing the upper arches, observation towers, and stone ledges capping the summit of the gigantic stadium as ephemeral combat platforms.

Floating majestically in the air over thirty meters high thanks to his execution of the Light-Weight Rock Technique (Koshinjutsu), Ōnoki kept his palms firmly pressed together at chest level.

His face, wrinkled by the passage of decades, was contorted in a grimace of immense concentration and restrained rage, and his small yet fiercely blazing eyes locked onto his target on the ground with surgical precision.

"I don't care how many crystals, stone defenses, or impenetrable walls you've raised to protect this trash village, arrogant boy!" Ōnoki roared with his harsh, powerful, raspy voice of a war veteran.

"You must learn that before the absolute power of Particle Style, all existing matter in this world, regardless of its hardness or density, instantly returns to its most primary atomic state!"

Between Ōnoki's slightly parted palms, a three-dimensional, pure white geometric figure began to take shape: a perfect cube of hyper-compressed chakra that hummed with a vibration frequency so absurdly high that it distorted the sunlight and the perspective of space around it.

"Particle Style: Atomic Dismantling Technique!" (Jinton: Genkai no Jutsu)

Without showing the slightest concern or regard for the presence of Sunagakure's residential buildings, the spectator-packed stands on the lower levels, or the allied and enemy troops fighting nearby, Ōnoki violently extended his arms downward.

The cube of geometric light expanded instantly into a three-dimensional pillar of blinding white energy that plunged straight down toward the position where Daigo stood.

The pillar of atomic Jinton energy struck the northern ledge of the stadium structure head-on.

SZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

No conventional explosion occurred, nor was there a loud rumble of shattering rock. At the exact spot where the white ray of light touched the reinforced stone, matter simply ceased to exist.

The thick rock pillars, decorative crystal slabs, reinforced iron beams, and granite floor dissolved instantly into a microscopic cloud of invisible dust, leaving behind a perfectly cylindrical abyss over twelve meters in diameter that cut through the colosseum's structure all the way down to the village's subterranean foundations.

Daigo, however, was no longer at that point.

Using precise tactical observation to read the accumulation of chakra and the pressure in Ōnoki's hands milliseconds before the attack was finally released, Daigo had completely anticipated the shot's trajectory.

"First Breath of the Seven Heavens: Release..." Daigo uttered mentally.

A massive pulse of highly compressed air exploded forcefully from Daigo's lungs. His chakra pathways dilated to the maximum instantly, exponentially increasing his lung capacity and multiplying his physical speed, motor reflexes, and agility to levels far exceeding human limits.

In a burst of raw speed that left a trail of dust and a small shockwave behind him, Daigo reappeared over fifty meters away, standing with absolute elegance on the fine tip of a jade crystal observation tower.

"You are far too slow and predictable, old man," Daigo spoke, his deep, serene voice echoing with a calmness that was deeply insulting to the veteran Kage despite the absolute chaos destroying the colosseum.

"You rely so blindly on the atomic destructive power of your Jinton that you have completely forgotten what true mobility and reaction speed mean on a high-level battlefield."

Ōnoki spun his body sharply in midair, scowling with overwhelming rage upon seeing that the Kazekage was completely unharmed, without a single stain on his attire.

"You damned arrogant brat!" Ōnoki bellowed in fury, bringing his palms together once more in a single seal.

"Let's see if your fast legs can dodge this when I erase the entire horizon!"

The Tsuchikage did not fire a simple concentric beam. Sweeping his arms in a wide horizontal arc, he caused the geometric structure of the Jinton to expand into a giant cone of destructive energy that swept across the colosseum's structure from left to right, pulverizing and evaporating absolutely everything it touched in its path.

Daigo showed not the slightest sign of hesitation or panic on his face. His eyes remained as cold as ice as he massively channeled his chakra to create Crystal Style (Shōton).

"Crystal Style: Mirror Labyrinth," Daigo murmured, executing a swift hand seal with his left hand.

Around him, dozens of large rectangular plates of hyper-dense pink crystal emerged instantly from the air and stone structures, positioning themselves at millimetric, precise angles around the tower.

Rather than committing the blunder of attempting to directly block the atomic energy of the Jinton which would have been completely futile due to the nature of Ōnoki's technique—Daigo utilized the properties of refraction, reflection, and extreme density of the crystal combined with the physical acceleration of the First Breath of the Seven Heavens.

Propelling himself from one crystal plate to another as though he were a bolt of pink light and compressed air, Daigo moved at a speed that completely defied the visual perception of an ordinary ninja.

Every time the fearsome beam of the Jinton was on the verge of touching his body, Daigo bounced through the air off a new crystal surface that he created instantly beneath his feet, dodging the Tsuchikage's lethal atomic sweeps by mere millimeters.

The colosseum around them collapsed to pieces beneath the destructive fury of Ōnoki's Particle Style, but Daigo advanced through the destruction with absolute elegance and precision, unstoppably closing the aerial distance toward the old Tsuchikage floating in the desert sky.