Ranmaru's Red Eye didn't resist genjutsu (Illusion Technique), but it did reveal that the Itachi in front of him was fake.
Blitzing to Itachi's face, Ranmaru wrenched his torso, forcing a ninety-degree swing mid-charge.
The Bakutō: Shibuki (Explosive Blade: Blastsword) scythed toward the empty space on the left.
As his blade fell, Itachi's body slowly surfaced from that very spot.
Yet even with the great sword bearing down, Itachi's face remained calm, as if Ranmaru were striking at thin air.
Fwip!
A slicing gust came from the other side.
A white-wrapped greatsword dropped in to guard Itachi.
Kisame's eyes flashed with surprise—and excitement. "Didn't expect a brat like you to be Shibuki's wielder. That's a surprise."
Ranmaru didn't waste words. His explosive blade crashed down, meeting Kisame's Samehada (Sharkskin) with a heavy thud.
At the instant of impact, Kisame's expression tightened; one hand became two on the hilt.
What power!
Feeling the brutal force humming down Samehada and the numbing shock in his tiger's mouth, Kisame's face shifted several times.
He'd gotten cocky—nearly embarrassed himself.
With the blades locked, Samehada's ability triggered on contact, drinking in Ranmaru's chakra through the weapons.
It was a stealthy trick, Kisame knew—unless the victim lost a lot at once, most shinobi wouldn't notice their chakra draining at the start.
But through the Red Eye, Ranmaru clearly saw chakra coursing into Samehada.
"A fascinating ability… but he's the enemy."
Ranmaru's eyes shone; he murmured under his breath.
Every ninja sword had its own unique power. He'd seen the other six; facing a new blade stirred his curiosity.
But even curious, he knew he was in the middle of a fight.
"Explode."
His grip tightened on Shibuki as he whispered in his heart.
Boom!
A point-blank blast erupted between them with no warning.
Kisame staggered back several steps, blinking. At this range, the explosion should've caught them both.
If he hadn't reacted fast, he'd have been hurt.
As the smoke thinned, Ranmaru stood there unscathed, and Kisame's eyes widened.
"Interesting—too interesting. It's been a while since I met an opponent like this."
Grinning, Kisame surged in again. Ranmaru moved to cut toward Itachi—
but riled up now, Kisame wouldn't let him pass. He swung Samehada back into Ranmaru's path, and under their locked gazes the two clashed anew.
Itachi walked forward by measured steps, stopping not far from Yuto. His black pupils turned blood-red; three tomoe began to spin, the pattern tightening into a windmill—Mangekyō Sharingan.
Staring at the still-seated Yuto, Itachi said coolly, "Are you planning to surrender quietly?"
"Surrender? I'm just watching," Yuto chuckled, eyes on the village below. "A Konoha even a 'rogue' wants to protect—yet in a battle this close to a world war, some still hide and refuse to spend their strength."
Itachi fell silent for a beat. He understood the barb.
"I may be a rogue now, but no matter how dark the village grows, no matter the contradictions, I am Konoha's Itachi."
"You're loyal," Yuto said with plain regret. "Shame there are only two or three Uchiha left."
Cold-blooded or not, it couldn't be denied.
"What beautiful eyes," Yuto added, meeting Mangekyō head-on, a flicker of nostalgia in his gaze.
Enemy or not, few dared look directly into those eyes. Yuto was the first.
Itachi didn't hesitate.
Magen: Kasegui no Jutsu (Demonic Illusion: Shackling Stakes Technique)!
The world flickered; Yuto felt himself dumped into a special space.
Sssk! Sssk!
With air-rending whistles, four massive iron stakes punched through his limbs, pinning him in place.
Even the punctures burned with very real pain.
Expression flat, Yuto looked around. "A fine genjutsu (Illusion Technique)—but only a normal one. If that's all, then… shatter."
As he spoke, a web of hairline cracks spread across the space, and the illusion collapsed in a rush.
Yuto's awareness snapped back—he hadn't even drawn on Sanbi (Three-Tails).
A flicker of surprise touched Itachi's eyes. Even a simple technique, amplified by Mangekyō, hit harder than most high-level genjutsu—harder, sometimes, than high-level ones.
When did the Mist produce someone like this?
He had expected to end things quickly with genjutsu. That hope evaporated.
Itachi's fingers blurred through signs.
"Katon: Gōkaryū no Jutsu (Fire Release: Great Fire Dragon Technique)!"
A fire dragon tens of meters long roared into being, searing heat rolling off it as it lunged for Yuto.
No thunderous burst, no shattering boom—when the dragon hit, Itachi watched in disbelief as the flames dwindled at a speed visible to the naked eye.
To be precise, the ninjutsu (Ninja Technique) was being devoured by Yuto.
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