Chakra had recovered to about 40 percent — not much, but enough for one decisive final push. I pushed the physical pain deep down, as I usually did, flooding my damaged muscles with the last of my energy.
No aces were left, but I didn't need a victory at any cost. I just needed everyone in the stands to remember one name — Kotetsu Hagane.
— "Begin!" the referee commanded..
The world narrowed. Aoba had no intention of playing fair.
— "Fire Style: Fireball Technique!" he exhaled.
A massive sphere of flame filled my vision. I didn't waste chakra on a "Great Breakthrough"; I simply lunged to the right, feeling the heat sear my cheek. But Aoba was ready for this. As soon as I came out of my roll, a whole swarm of kunai flew toward me.
I drew my tanto. The ring of metal against metal merged into a single rhythmic beat. I parried them on pure reflex, feeling the blade vibrate. Aoba wove another set of signs.
— "Fire Style: Phoenix Sage Fire!"
Instead of one large sphere, dozens of small fireballs curved toward me. They flew in an arc, cutting off all my escape routes.
"You want to pin me down? Not happening," my teeth clenched until they creaked.
— "Wind Style: Weapon Infusion!"
The tanto in my hand glowed pale blue. I wasn't just parrying the projectiles — I was cutting through them. The wind currents sliced the flames, forcing them to extinguish before they could touch my clothes. But my chakra was draining at a frightening rate.
"Time to get down to business."
I reached into my pouch and whipped out ten kunai at once.
— "Wind Style: Hail of Blades!"
I threw them in a wide fan. Aoba calmly began to shift, preparing to deflect them or hide behind a wall of fire, but I exhaled sharply, concentrating chakra in my mouth. A short, explosive blast of air struck the pommels of the flying steel. The kunai instantly accelerated, spinning through the air in unpredictable trajectories.
— "What?!" Aoba barely managed to raise his arms.
Two kunai sank into his shoulder and thigh; the others pierced through his jacket, pinning the fabric to the ground. For a split second, he lost his concentration.
"Now!"
— "Body Flicker Technique!"
I vanished. My vision blurred from the sudden pressure spike, but I was already behind him.
— "Formation: Strings of Light!" I exhaled, feeling a surge of triumph.
Aoba froze. I instantly raised my tanto to his throat.
Victory was a millimeter away...
but suddenly, the body beneath my blade lost its solidity. With a wild caw, Aoba burst into dozens of black crows right in my hands.
Was it Genjutsu? Mixed with a Substitution Technique?
Feathers hit my face, disorienting me, while the cawing echoed in my head, amplifying the ringing from my pill's "recoil."
— "You're too predictable when you're in a hurry, Kotetsu!" Aoba's voice came from above and to the right.
He hadn't just escaped. He had used the crows as a smokescreen. While I was swatting away black feathers, trying to spot my target, the real Aoba was already mid-air. His silhouette momentarily eclipsed the sun.
Pum!
A heavy kick landed squarely in my solar plexus. The air was knocked out of my lungs instantly, and with it, the last of my concentration. I was thrown back with such force that I slammed into the arena's stone wall. Cracks spiderwebbed across it, and my ears began to ring.
My tanto clattered onto the concrete with a metallic ring, slipping from my numb fingers right where I had taken the hit. I was left unarmed.
Aoba landed on his toes, silent and graceful. He didn't give me a second to recover. My vision was doubling, the arena turning into a blurry smudge, but my body, trained to the point of automation, reacted on its own. I raised my arms, blocking a sharp strike to my face.
Bone met bone with a dull thud. My elbow flared with pain, but I stood my ground.
A fierce Taijutsu dance began. Aoba moved like a shadow — fast. He delivered a flurry of blows: a straight punch to the ribs, a short hook, a transition into a sweep. I could barely move my feet, suffocating under the pace he imposed.
I felt the chakra boiling inside me, trying to compensate for the sheer exhaustion, but my muscles simply refused to listen. They were like cotton, heavy as lead.
Bam! — I took a heavy hit to the shoulder; my arm went numb for a moment. Gah! — the next strike hit my gut, forcing me to double over and spit out thick saliva tinged with blood.
My defense was falling apart. Aoba wasn't just hitting — he was pressing, leaving no room to maneuver.
"Damn, he knocked the tanto away on purpose," flashed through my mind as I narrowly dodged another fist, feeling the heat from his fire chakra on my skin. "He knows that without the blade, my attack radius is limited to my reach. He's robbed me of my distance."
Aoba ducked under my left hook and drove his fist under my ribs. The pain was blinding, my breath hitched. I staggered back toward the wall. A few more steps and I'd be pinned against the stone, where he could simply finish me at point-blank range.
I had to get out of this trap.
When Aoba swung for the next blow, I didn't retreat further. Instead, I dropped low, letting his fist whistle over my head. Using the wall for leverage, I kicked off with both feet and performed a powerful flip over Aoba's head. It was a Body Flicker fueled by the last of my strength, directed upward and behind my enemy.
I soared over him and landed ten meters away, right in the center of the arena. Now I was in the open, but my legs buckled, and I nearly collapsed.
Aoba spun around instantly. He realized I had escaped the corner and decided not to give me a second chance to close in.
— "Stop running, Kotetsu! If you want distance — you've got it!"
He rapidly wove a series of signs. His chest expanded, and the air around him began to vibrate with heat.
— "Fire Style: Blazing Maelstrom!"
A massive wave of flame, spanning almost the entire width of the arena, roared toward me. I had no strength left for another jump — my muscles were cramping from overexertion and the effects of the pill.
I realized: there was nowhere to run.
I dropped to one knee and slammed my palms into the concrete right in front of me.
— "Formation: Strings of Light!" I screamed, feeling the chakra literally being ripped from my pathways.
The seal flared under my hands. But I didn't just release the energy — I forced it to rotate at high speed. I infused the barrier with the last of my Wind Style, creating a Vacuum Cylinder.
Aoba's fire slammed into the invisible wall with a roar. The audience saw an incredible sight: the raging flames swirled around me in a circle, unable to breach the barrier. Inside the cylinder, due to the lack of oxygen and the fierce rotation of the wind, the fire simply died out upon contact.
Aoba stood ten paces away, maintaining the stream of fire. His face was contorted with strain — he didn't understand why his strongest technique couldn't incinerate an exhausted opponent. I sat in the very center of that hell, holding the seal.
When the fire finally died down, a deathly silence fell over the arena. The smoke cleared slowly.
Aoba lowered his hands, breathing heavily. He saw me still kneeling in the seal position. My face was unnaturally red from the heat, and blood leaked from my nose and ears in thin trails — the pressure inside the vacuum cocoon had nearly ruptured my vessels. My gaze was fixed on nothing, but my hands did not shake.
Slowly, painfully, I unclenched my fingers. The blue threads of the barrier shattered into sparks with a dry crackle.
— "Pretty... little fire..." I whispered, barely audible.
My eyes rolled back. My body, deprived of chakra, slumped forward face-first into the concrete. The referee, appearing beside me in an instant, caught me a second before I hit the ground.
— "The winner — Aoba Yamashiro!" he proclaimed, checking my pulse. "But this kid..."