Chapter 114 (Patreon)

The Five Kage Summit finally came to an end with the formation of the Allied Shinobi Forces.

Killer B was still alive, and after the man calling himself Uchiha Madara declared the Fourth Shinobi World War, even the Fourth Raikage no longer objected to the alliance.

For the first time in history, the Five Great Nations had chosen to stand together.

Their enemy was Akatsuki—and the Uchiha behind it.

At the same time, this was also a war to protect the Eight-Tails and the Nine-Tails.

Neither jinchūriki could be allowed to fall into the enemy's hands, nor could they be permitted to appear on the chaotic battlefield that was soon to come.

Once the final arrangements had been discussed, Mihawk and Tsunade departed from the Land of Iron.

Meanwhile, the Fourth Raikage immediately began searching for Killer B's whereabouts.

The plan was simple.

The Eight-Tails and Nine-Tails jinchūriki would be sent somewhere secure and kept far away from the coming war.

On the road back to Konoha, neither Mihawk nor Tsunade spoke much.

During the summit itself, Mihawk had barely said a word.

Interrupting discussions without reason or deliberately drawing attention to himself had never suited him.

He had accompanied Tsunade to the Land of Iron because it was part of his duty as a shinobi of Konoha.

Nothing more.

Still...

He did have some interest in what was coming next.

The Fourth Shinobi World War.

Now that would truly be a chaotic battlefield.

It would not simply be a war between the Allied Shinobi Forces and an army of one hundred thousand White Zetsu.

The dead themselves would be dragged into it.

Powerful shinobi who had left their mark across countless eras would return to the world through the Impure World Reincarnation.

Heroes.

Criminals.

Kage.

Legends whose names had long since become part of shinobi history.

And all of them would once again walk the battlefield.

The war Mihawk had been waiting for was finally approaching.

A battlefield where there would be no need to hold back.

A place where countless powerful opponents would gather in one place.

Just thinking about it caused the corner of Mihawk's mouth to rise slightly.

Tsunade immediately noticed.

She rarely saw him smile like that.

"Mihawk, what are you smiling about?"

Mihawk shook his head.

"Nothing."

Tsunade narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before giving up.

"Always so mysterious."

She didn't bother asking again.

As far as she was concerned, there weren't many things capable of putting Mihawk in such a good mood.

It was probably something involving that girl from the Hyūga Clan.

Young love really was something...

Enviable.

Having lost the man she loved long ago, Tsunade couldn't deny that there were times when she envied the relationship between Mihawk and Hinata.

Unfortunately, she had completely misunderstood him this time.

Even Tsunade probably wouldn't have imagined that beneath Mihawk's preference for a calm and peaceful life was another side of him entirely.

Perhaps calling it a desire to kill wasn't quite right.

It was closer to the nature of his swordsmanship itself.

Mihawk's path of the sword had always been built around absolute lethality.

Even before obtaining his second Template, he had already begun developing a sword style centered entirely on killing.

Back then, it had only been an incomplete foundation.

But there was something strangely captivating about the sensation of a blade passing through a target with almost no resistance at all.

One effortless swing.

And flesh, bone, and everything between them parted cleanly before the sword.

For a swordsman, there was a certain purity in that kind of precision.

"...Hm?"

Mihawk suddenly stopped.

The movement was so abrupt that Tsunade immediately noticed.

Their footprints stretched behind them across the snow.

Mihawk turned his head slightly.

His gaze settled toward the five-o'clock direction to his right.

Then, without the slightest hesitation—

His sword left its sheath.

Shing—!

A silver-white flash tore across the snowy landscape before taking on a deep crimson hue.

BOOM!

The Ranged Slash struck the ground.

The earth split apart as though enormous roots had erupted beneath the surface, tearing open a ravine three to four meters wide and equally deep.

The ground trembled.

"—!"

More than a dozen black-clad figures suddenly burst from beneath the earth.

They scattered through the air before landing around Mihawk and Tsunade, completely surrounding them.

Every one of them wore a tight black uniform with white straps across the body.

Different masks concealed their faces.

The moment Tsunade saw their clothing, her expression darkened.

"Root..."

Her eyes sharpened.

"You're Danzo's men?"

None of them answered.

Several Root shinobi immediately formed hand seals.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

Flames erupted from their mouths.

Several streams of fire rapidly expanded into enormous burning spheres and rushed toward Mihawk and Tsunade from multiple directions.

But just as the fireballs fully formed—

Shing—!

A silver arc flashed.

Mihawk's sword swept around him in a perfect circle.

Three hundred and sixty degrees.

The next instant—

Fwoosh!

Every fireball split apart.

The flames scattered into countless embers before vanishing into the freezing air.

Even the intense heat disappeared almost instantly.

Several Root shinobi froze for a fraction of a second.

That fraction was enough.

One of them suddenly found himself staring directly into Mihawk's eyes through the openings of his mask.

An icy blue gleam had appeared within them, faint traces of a multicolored spiral turning inside his gaze.

Then—

Riiip!

The sound of tearing fabric echoed through the snow.

It came from his body.

And from the bodies of the shinobi standing beside him.

For a moment, none of them understood what had happened.

Then arms flew through the air.

Legs separated from torsos.

Bodies split cleanly across the waist.

Their limbs had already been severed before their minds could even register the pain.

They collapsed into the snow.

Only then did the agony arrive.

Their vision blurred.

And through that fading vision, they could vaguely see that the exact same thing had happened to their companions.

Blood scattered across the white ground.

Whoosh!

Another shadow flashed past.

Mihawk lowered his body slightly as he moved through the encirclement in a wide arc.

His speed was overwhelming.

He passed one Root shinobi after another.

The sword in his hand seemed almost intangible, slipping through their bodies like a phantom blade.

Every time Mihawk moved past someone—

Blood erupted behind him.

Perfectly straight wounds appeared across bodies.

Limbs separated along smooth cuts so precise that they looked as though they had been severed by machinery.

One after another, bodies fell into the snow.

Bright crimson quickly spread across the silver-white landscape.

Mihawk was fast.

But his sword was even faster.

Far too fast for the Root shinobi to react.

In fact, even Tsunade had barely managed to follow what happened.

By the time she fully processed the situation—

It was already over.

Corpses covered the ground.

The brutal state of their bodies was enough to make even an experienced shinobi's skin crawl.

Mihawk calmly returned his sword to its sheath.

Click.

The strange ice-blue gleam in his eyes faded away, the faint spiral disappearing as they returned to their usual red.

"Mihawk, you..."

Tsunade stared at his back.

She clearly wanted to say something.

But the reprimand that had risen to her throat refused to come out.

"...Hah."

Instead, she released a heavy sigh.

Then her expression hardened.

Tsunade swept her gaze across the surrounding forest, fury building in her eyes.

"Danzo!"

Her voice thundered across the snow-covered landscape.

"Show yourself!"