Chapter 116 (Patreon)

The reason Mihawk had not simply wiped them all out with a single attack was naturally because of his second Template.

These Root shinobi were useful opponents.

By killing them one by one and carefully observing the moment between life and death, Mihawk could continue progressing his second Template while deepening his understanding of the concept of death itself.

“Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!”

After Danzo and his two guards reappeared, one of the Root shinobi who had escaped Mihawk’s earlier Ranged Slash immediately formed a series of hand seals and exhaled a concentrated stream of flames toward him.

The fire traveled incredibly fast.

A straight line of orange flames swept just above the ground, melting the thick snow beneath it into water as it passed. Judging by the heat alone, the power behind the technique was considerable.

Its target was Mihawk.

The Root shinobi showed absolutely no concern for the comrades standing near him.

Their actions had clearly been decided beforehand.

As long as they could kill Mihawk, casualties among their own ranks were acceptable.

Shing—!

Unfortunately for them, even such a powerful B-rank Fire Style technique posed little threat to him.

Mihawk merely turned and swung the small cross-shaped sword downward from above.

A silver-white flash appeared.

The long stream of flames instantly vanished.

It was as though the technique had suddenly exhausted every trace of chakra sustaining it, disappearing like a candle being blown out and leaving behind only a faint trail of smoke.

The surrounding Root shinobi froze for a moment.

Riiip—!

Mihawk used those two brief seconds without hesitation.

He appeared before another Root shinobi and drove the small cross-shaped blade straight through the man’s body before casually lifting it upward.

The body tore apart.

Blood, entrails, and pieces of flesh scattered through the air, nearly splashing across Mihawk himself.

But before even a single drop could touch him, his figure had already disappeared.

Excluding Danzo and his two personal guards, sixteen Root shinobi had surrounded Mihawk and Tsunade.

Two had been killed by the earlier Ranged Slash.

Only several dozen seconds had passed since the battle began, yet Mihawk had already killed eight more.

Now the snow-covered ground was littered with corpses.

Severed arms and legs lay everywhere, while blood spread across the untouched white snow like scattered crimson jewels.

The contrast was striking.

A heavy scent of blood filled the freezing air.

Only six Root shinobi remained.

They had finally begun to understand just how overwhelming the difference between them and Mihawk truly was.

Their feet unconsciously moved backward.

Standing before them was a silver-haired youth holding a tiny cross-shaped sword.

His clothes remained completely clean despite the slaughter around him. His silver hair moved gently in the cold wind, while the little blade in his hand looked almost absurdly small compared to the carnage surrounding him.

Behind their dark masks, the surviving Root shinobi stared at him with unmistakable fear.

And they were not the only ones shaken.

Even Danzo, Fū, and Torune had been surprised by what they had witnessed.

Information regarding Nerona Mihawk had already entered the hands of Konoha’s leadership several years earlier, during the Chūnin Exams.

At only twelve years old, he had already displayed strength capable of threatening a Kage-level shinobi.

Danzo had taken notice of him immediately.

An orphan with extraordinary talent was exactly the kind of shinobi Root preferred to recruit.

When Danzo first learned about Mihawk, he had indeed considered bringing the boy under his command.

Unfortunately, the timing had been terrible.

The Third Hokage had only recently died, and during the period when Konoha was temporarily without a permanent Hokage, Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane had been watching Danzo’s every move.

By the time that situation finally settled, Tsunade had already returned to the village and taken her place as the Fifth Hokage.

Danzo no longer had the opportunity to interfere.

In the years that followed, Mihawk’s reputation continued to grow.

Without drawing unnecessary attention to himself, he gradually entered the intelligence reports of the upper leadership of all Five Great Nations.

The deaths of Sasori of the Red Sand and Pain had already proven beyond doubt that Mihawk was no longer merely a talented young shinobi.

He had become a genuine powerhouse.

Danzo had never found another opportunity to recruit him.

And now, Mihawk had become the single greatest variable threatening this entire plan.

Danzo had already known that Mihawk was strong.

He knew the young swordsman possessed an extraordinarily destructive sword technique capable of reaching the level of an S-rank attack.

But even Danzo had underestimated him.

These were Root operatives.

Even among ANBU, many of them would be considered elite.

Yet Mihawk was killing them before they could even react, much less form hand seals or use their techniques.

Danzo’s gaze briefly fell upon the tiny cross-shaped blade in Mihawk’s hand.

Earlier, when Mihawk had said he had not brought a smaller knife for dealing with them, Danzo had dismissed it as nothing more than the arrogance of a gifted young brat. But after seeing what that insignificant-looking blade could do, a trace of doubt entered his mind.

Is there something special about that weapon? Otherwise, why would someone like him choose to fight with such a small blade?

“Those eyes…”

Then... Danzo stared at Mihawk’s icy-blue eyes and narrowed his visible left eye slightly.

If his memory was correct, Mihawk’s eyes had originally been red.

Was this some kind of dōjutsu?

Or perhaps an unusual mutation of the eyes?

Danzo possessed considerable knowledge regarding dōjutsu.

Aside from the three great dōjutsu—the Sharingan, Byakugan, and Rinnegan—he had encountered records of other rare ocular abilities as well.

But he had never heard of icy-blue eyes containing a multicolored spiral pattern.

Danzo quickly pushed the thought aside. “Fū, Torune. Attack together.”

“Yes.”

Fū Yamanaka and Torune Aburame immediately rushed toward Mihawk.

“Everyone, attack at once!”

The remaining Root shinobi snapped out of their fear.

Suppressing the unease in their hearts, they drew the short blades from their backs and charged toward Mihawk alongside them.

Since ordinary elemental ninjutsu could simply be cut apart by his blade, they would abandon long-range attacks.

They would force him into close combat instead.

And as long as they coordinated properly with Torune’s technique…

Whatever plan they had formed, Mihawk had no interest in knowing.

The moment they rushed toward him, he moved as well.

Holding the tiny cross-shaped sword at his side, Mihawk shot forward like an arrow toward the nearest Root shinobi.

Clang—!

The little blade collided with the man’s short sword.

Crack!

A sharp breaking sound immediately followed.

The Root shinobi’s short blade was clearly forged from high-quality material and should have possessed far greater durability than something as small as the weapon Mihawk held.

Yet the instant the two weapons collided, the Root shinobi’s blade shattered.

Whoosh!

Mihawk continued forward without slowing down.

His figure blurred past the Root shinobi.

Riiip—!

The moment Mihawk passed him, the sound of fabric and flesh being severed came from the man’s body.

Before the corpse could even fall, another figure appeared above Mihawk.

Torune Aburame descended from the air with his right fist clenched.

His entire hand and wrist had turned purple.

He drove the fist downward toward Mihawk.

Through Mihawk’s perception, Torune’s arm was covered in an extraordinary amount of death.

But that death did not belong to Torune himself.

It belonged to countless other living creatures.

Nano-sized insects.

The venomous kikaichū covering Torune’s body were constantly carrying their own traces of life and death.

Mihawk did not raise the cross-shaped blade to meet the attack.

Instead, he calmly pushed off the ground and leapt backward, creating distance between them.

“Now!”

Fū’s eyes immediately lit up.

Mihawk’s retreat had given him a clear opening.

Fū formed the required hand seal and aimed directly at the spot where Mihawk was about to land.

“Mind Body Switch Technique!”

Mihawk glanced toward him indifferently.

A faint, disdainful smile appeared on his face.

“You chose the worst possible technique.”

To Mihawk, every technique possessed a beginning and an end.

The moment a technique was activated, it was born.

When its effect disappeared, it died.

Whether ninjutsu, genjutsu, or secret clan techniques, that cycle of existence remained unmistakably clear to his eyes.

Only abilities connected to something far beyond ordinary shinobi—such as the Rinnegan and powers originating from the Ōtsutsuki bloodline—operated on a fundamentally different level.

Everything else still followed the same unmistakable relationship between life and death.

Cause and effect.

Beginning and end.

And the Mind Body Switch Technique made that relationship even more obvious than most.

The instant Fū activated the jutsu, countless lines of death seemed to extend from him.

Mihawk understood immediately.

Those lines did not represent the death of Fū’s physical body.

They represented the vulnerability of his consciousness itself.

His spirit had willingly left the protection of his body and was traveling directly toward Mihawk.

For Mihawk, who was trying to understand death more deeply through his second Template, the sight could not have been clearer.

This was the first time he had ever seen someone deliver his own consciousness straight into Mihawk’s reach.

He might as well have offered Mihawk his life with both hands.