Chapter 22 (Patreon)

Clang!

The instant Zabuza’s sword descended, the sharp sound of colliding metal rang through the mist.

Mihawk stepped forward and placed himself directly in front of Tazuna.

Holding his sword in one hand, he stopped the massive Kubikiribōchō in its tracks.

Zabuza’s surprise attack had been blocked.

His attention immediately shifted toward the silver-haired boy standing before him.

His visible eye narrowed as he stared at the black blade holding back the Kubikiribōchō.

“Brat… what kind of sword is that?”

The entire weapon was pitch-black.

Not only the hilt and guard, but even the blade itself had been dyed black.

Zabuza had never seen a sword like it before.

“It’s an ordinary sword.”

Mihawk met his gaze without the slightest change in expression.

“It only appears special because I’m the one holding it.”

Only then did Zabuza notice that Mihawk’s hand gripping the sword had also turned completely black.

His brow rose slightly.

“Ninjutsu?”

His gaze sharpened.

“Or is it a kekkei genkai?”

“This…”

The corner of Mihawk’s mouth curved upward.

“…is Haki.”

Mihawk tightened his grip on the ōdachi and suddenly pushed forward.

An overwhelming force erupted from the slender blade.

Zabuza’s eye widened as both he and the Kubikiribōchō were forced backward.

Mihawk immediately raised his sword overhead.

Chakra burst beneath his feet.

With a light tap against the ground, he shot forward after Zabuza and brought the blade down with tremendous force.

Boom!

A silver-white sword light tore through the dense mist.

A dark-red Ranged Slash, nearly four metres tall, erupted from the ground like an enormous root breaking through the earth.

Violent winds swept through the forest as the massive slash roared toward Zabuza.

It advanced with terrifying speed.

Like a surging tidal wave, it swallowed everything in front of it and filled Zabuza’s entire field of vision.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Zabuza’s expression changed for the first time.

That’s a sword slash?!

He hurriedly gripped the Kubikiribōchō with both hands and raised it horizontally in front of himself.

The dark-red slash crashed directly against the enormous blade.

Boom!

The terrifying force behind it sent Zabuza flying backward along with his sword.

His body smashed through a thick tree trunk, but even that was not enough to stop him.

He was carried several more metres through the forest before the dark-red slash finally dispersed.

A perfectly straight ravine had been carved into the ground between Mihawk and the place where Zabuza had disappeared.

It stretched for nearly seventeen metres.

A slash four metres high and seventeen metres long could not possibly have been created through the simple release of chakra.

Even a Kage-level shinobi would waste an absurd amount of chakra attempting something like that.

That alone showed just how deeply Mihawk’s Ranged Slash had shaken Zabuza.

“I’ve already seen it twice, but it still doesn’t seem real.”

Kurenai stared at the enormous scar left across the ground.

“A slash of that scale…”

Her red eyes narrowed in astonishment.

“Even the White Fang of Konoha may not have surpassed it.”

After sending Zabuza flying, Mihawk did not immediately pursue him.

Instead, he lowered his gaze and examined the black sword in his hand with satisfaction.

This was only the first stage of Armament Haki—Coating.

Yet it had already strengthened his grip enough to block the Kubikiribōchō with one hand.

Even the Ranged Slash he had released with a single arm had been more powerful than the attacks he normally performed with both hands.

Armament Haki truly deserved its reputation.

Mihawk had finally mastered it.

That was also the reason he no longer carried Shigure Kintoki and had chosen to bring an ordinary ōdachi instead.

Unless a weapon was an exceptionally valuable blade, there was no longer much difference between swords in Mihawk’s hands.

Hawkeye had once said that every famous blade could still be damaged—or even broken.

If a swordsman wished to protect his weapon and make its edge even sharper, they first had to master Armament Haki.

Once Armament Haki was mastered, any sword could become a black blade.

Mihawk strongly agreed with those words.

The sword in his hand was nothing more than an inexpensive, ordinary weapon.

Without being coated in Armament Haki, it would have shattered the instant it collided with the Kubikiribōchō.

“A fine sword really does make a swordsman even more dangerous.”

Mihawk raised the black blade and gazed into the mist ahead.

“After coating it in Armament Haki, even the breath of all things feels heavier.”

His red eyes remained fixed on the fog.

“Right now…”

“I feel as though I could cut through anything.”

Chakra gathered beneath Mihawk’s feet.

The moment his words ended, he shot forward like a violent gust of wind.

Observation Haki spread outward.

It was as though an invisible hand had torn open the thick mist gathering in front of him.

Zabuza’s figure was immediately revealed.

He was standing near the shattered remains of a tree, rapidly forming hand seals.

His condition was far from good.

A shinobi’s body was still made of flesh and blood.

After being struck by Mihawk’s Ranged Slash and crashing through a tree, Zabuza had suffered serious internal injuries.

The bandages covering the lower half of his face had already been stained red with blood.

Even so, his hands continued moving without hesitation.

He had used the brief moment Mihawk gave him to breathe to complete his technique.

“Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Technique!”

A powerful surge of chakra erupted from his body.

Roar!

The water in a nearby pond rose violently into the air.

It twisted into the shape of a massive dragon before surging past Zabuza and charging toward Mihawk.

Whoosh!

Mihawk’s figure shot upward from the ground.

He passed directly beside the roaring water dragon.

His silver ponytail and the white cloth wrapped around his neck fluttered wildly in the wind.

His red eyes focused on the droplets of water suspended in the air.

The black sword moved once.

Mihawk landed lightly on the ground.

Behind him, the enormous water dragon separated into several perfectly severed sections.

The technique instantly collapsed.

Water poured from the sky like a sudden downpour.

Mihawk stood beneath it, completely drenched, yet he did not immediately look back at Zabuza.

Zabuza, however, stared at those red eyes.

An emotion rose inside him that even he found difficult to believe.

Fear.

What kind of joke is this?

Zabuza gritted his teeth.

Me? Afraid of some brat?

He was the Demon of the Hidden Mist.

He had survived the Bloody Mist era and climbed over countless corpses to reach where he stood.

Refusing to acknowledge the fear that had just appeared in his heart, Zabuza tightened his grip on the Kubikiribōchō and rushed toward Mihawk.

“You were unlucky to meet me.”

Mihawk suddenly closed his eyes.

He repeated the same words Zabuza had spoken to Kurenai earlier.

“Your ninjutsu…”

“Your swordsmanship…”

“Even your assassination techniques…”

Mihawk slowly returned his blade to its sheath and lowered his body into an iaijutsu stance.

“In my eyes, all of them are painfully fragile.”

Blue chakra began gathering beneath the soles of his feet.

His hand settled against the sword’s hilt.

“Hah!”

In the next instant, Mihawk vanished.

When he reappeared, he was already six metres away.

Behind him stood Zabuza.

The Demon of the Hidden Mist remained frozen in place, his expression blank.

Mihawk was still holding the same sword-drawing stance.

Only now, he was slowly returning the blade to its sheath.

Click.

The final portion of the sword slid into place.

Splurt!

A pillar of blood suddenly erupted from Zabuza’s body.

The Kubikiribōchō held in front of him split cleanly into two pieces.

A long, narrow wound stretched diagonally from Zabuza’s left shoulder to his right leg.

Even the ribs beneath the wound had been cleanly severed by Mihawk’s blade.

Mihawk removed the band securing his ponytail and wrapped it around his wrist.

His long silver hair fell freely across his back.

Without turning around, he quietly spoke his farewell.

“Rest in peace…”

“Zabuza Momochi—the Demon of the Hidden Mist.”