Chapter 43: The Price of Victory
Chōjūrō held nothing back. With a powerful shout, he slammed the two halves of Hiramekarei together. A torrent of vibrant blue chakra erupted from his body, flowing into the unique swords.
BOOM!
The chakra condensed and solidified with shocking speed, morphing into a colossal, shimmering hammer of pure energy—the ultimate offensive form of Hiramekarei.
"This is the end!"
Chōjūrō roared, heaving the chakra sledgehammer and bringing it down in a cataclysmic arc towards where Ryouma stood.
BOOOOM!!!
The very earth shattered. A crater erupted where the hammer landed, sending plumes of dust and debris flying into the enclosed space. Though the attack wasn't aimed at it, the Four Sun Sealing Array groaned and vibrated violently, its red light flickering from the sheer force of the impact.
"It's over."
Chōjūrō exhaled heavily, the massive chakra construct dissipating from Hiramekarei. He began to walk forward, the swords dragging behind him, intending to retrieve Ryouma's weapon—if it had even survived the blast.
He took one step, then froze. His eyes widened, the whites flooding with ruptured blood vessels in an instant.
Drip...
A sound, soft and clear, echoed in the rainless barrier. A drop of crimson fell from the tip of a silver blade protruding from the center of his chest.
Chōjūruro coughed, a pained, wet sound, and a stream of blood spilled from his lips. A strange, resigned laugh escaped him. "I've lost... but how?"
Ryouma stood behind him, his voice calm. "The barrier stops me from teleporting out. It doesn't stop me from teleporting within it."
"So... it was all an act. The stalemate, the desperate exchanges... all to make me let my guard down and commit to a large, predictable attack, giving you the opening for a fatal strike."
"Yes." Ryouma didn't deny it. That was precisely his plan. He had banked on Chōjūrō, believing his teleportation neutralized and pressured by the prolonged fight, would resort to his most powerful, area-clearing technique.
"You will die here too," Chōjūrō gasped, his life rapidly fading.
"Don't worry about me."
"I'll... be waiting for you." Chōjūrō felt the last of his strength leave him, and his eyes slowly closed. Lord Mizukage... I'm sorry... I failed to return...
"No," Ryouma said, his voice firm as he yanked his sword free. "You won't."
In a single, clean motion, he brought 'Flash' around in a final, decisive arc. Chōjūrō's head separated from his shoulders before his body hit the ground.
"Main Mission Complete. 700 Almighty Points Acquired."
"New Mission Issued: Attain the Rank of Jōnin of Konohagakure. Reward upon Completion: 500 Almighty Points."
The system's grand voice echoed in his mind, announcing his victory and presenting his next, impossible objective.
He should have been elated. 700 points doubled his total Divine Power, catapulting his raw reserves to the level of a standard Jōnin, while the quality of his energy now rivaled an elite. With this power and the Instant Eye, he could now face opponents like Chōjūrō head-on. He could even dare to test himself against a Kage-level fighter.
Yet, no joy came. Instead, a cold fury boiled within him.
System, you fucking bastard! Are you trying to get me killed?! he mentally screamed, a torrent of silent curses following. He knew the system was manipulative, but this was a new level of cruelty. He was a branded nukenin, an S-Class rogue with a bounty on his head. And it wanted him to become a Konoha Jōnin? The task was specifically, undeniably clear: he had to be a Jōnin of Konoha.
"Ryouma."
It was Kakashi. The Copy Ninja had entered the barrier and now stood opposite him, his sole visible eye calm and assessing.
"Come on, then," Ryouma said, his voice dripping with a newfound confidence born of his doubled power. In pure stats, he was now a peer.
"Exchange. Extreme Swordsmanship: God-Slaying," he commanded internally.
"Exchange Successful. Cost: 50 Almighty Points."
Swordsmanship might lack the raw destructive scale of high-level ninjutsu, but its single-target lethality and versatility were unmatched, and its chakra—or in his case, Divine Power—cost was far lower.
Whoosh!
A kunai cut through the air. Ryouma tilted his head slightly, letting it pass harmlessly by his ear.
"Your growth rate is truly alarming," Kakashi remarked.
"Oh, thank you," Ryouma replied with a thin smile. He wasn't done. "Exchange. Divine Wind Sword - Chooser."
"Exchange Successful. Cost: 170 Almighty Points."
Swish~!
A new long sword materialized in the air before him. Ryouma grabbed its hilt, then planted his original 'Flash' into the ground beside him. He examined the new blade; it looked ordinary, but the air around its edge shimmered and twisted, as if it cut through reality itself with effortless grace. Fast. Light. Unstoppable.
"A good sword," Ryouma mused.
Kakashi showed no reaction to the sword's sudden appearance. By now, he expected the inexplicable from Akizuki Ryouma.
"Zap—Crackle!"
Blue-white electricity gathered in Kakashi's palm, coalescing into a sphere of screeching, concentrated lightning—the A-Rank technique, Chidori, or "Lightning Cutter."
This level of ninjutsu is comparable to a standard Rasengan, Ryouma analyzed. It's far inferior to my enhanced Great Ball Rasengan. So why...?
His eyes flicked to Kurenai. He saw her watching, a silent, complex sigh escaping her lips, her expression unreadable but fraught with emotion.
Her expression? Sensei knows my strength. She saw what my Rasengan could do. So why does she look like that when Kakashi uses a technique that should be weaker?
He didn't understand, but his guard, already high, shot into the stratosphere.
"HAH!"
With a shout, Kakashi charged, the Lightning Cutter held before him like a lance.
His speed was less than Chōjūrō's. His stance had openings. Why? Why is he so confident delivering this attack directly?
Ryouma's mind raced, sifting through every piece of intelligence he had on Kakashi Hatake from the series. And then, it struck him with the force of a physical blow.
Kamui!
The Mangekyō Sharingan's ability to warp space itself. Kakashi wasn't just using the Lightning Cutter. He was using it as a feint, a distraction. The real threat was invisible, a spatial distortion already forming around him. He hadn't been planning to capture him alive at all. This was an execution.
The game had changed completely.