Ren's eyes narrowed.
Since he'd already made up his mind, the crimson in his gaze deepened—so sharp and oppressive it made the air itself feel heavier. In the next instant, the three tomoe connected, forming a single, rotating Mangekyō pattern.
But that was only the beginning.
A surging wave of chakra erupted from Ren as his Sage Body roared to its limit. Under countless horrified stares, a towering blue skeletal frame manifested around him—then rapidly thickened, veins and muscle knitting into existence over bone. Armor formed in layers, taking on the ominous shape of a tengu armor, and two massive, black-tinted wings unfurled from its back.
Finally—
A blue Perfect Susanoo stood on the battlefield.
It was enormous.
Even from a distance, its size didn't lose to True Several Thousand Hands by much. And the pressure it radiated made the spectators' hearts seize—one after another, Leaf shinobi at the battlefield's edge fell into stunned silence, minds blank with shock.
Not just them.
Even Tobirama Senju—watching from a cliff—felt his expression tighten. Ren's abilities came in layers, one after another, absurdly stacked.
Worse, that chakra…
He could tell at a glance.
That was the Sage Body roaring at full power.
But a Uchiha awakening a Sage Body?
It made no sense.
"Has the era… really changed?" Tobirama muttered, almost involuntarily.
"Uchiha… you people are ridiculous."
For the first time in a long time, Tobirama felt genuinely shaken.
On the towering Bodhisattva statue, Hashirama Senju studied Ren's Susanoo, clear surprise flickering through his eyes.
As someone who had fought Madara, he understood exactly what the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan meant. Add Ren's terrifying taijutsu, that Sage Body, and that strange… destructive vibration power—
Hashirama couldn't help it.
"Just how did you train to this point?" he murmured.
Then his expression shifted—excitement blooming.
"Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan. Sage Body. And that vibration power…" Hashirama exhaled, sincerely amazed. "That's… absurd."
He didn't hesitate.
"Sage Art: Wood Release: True Several Thousand Hands!"
In the next moment, the entire battlefield trembled.
From the True Several Thousand Hands, countless gigantic arms twisted into motion. Thousands of fists clenched at once—then slammed forward without warning, like a storm of mountains falling from the sky.
A storm of blows.
A divine punishment.
At the same time, Ren's lips curled.
"Good."
He drove the Perfect Susanoo forward and ignited everything at once—Sage Body chakra, Armament Haki, and the Tremor-Tremor Fruit's power—layered together until the blue giant seemed to hum with catastrophic resonance.
Then—
The Perfect Susanoo clenched its fists and met the Buddha's fists head-on.
BOOOOOOM!!
The air detonated.
Shockwaves ripped outward in rings, tearing up the already ruined terrain. The battlefield shook like the end of the world, the sound so violent that many Leaf shinobi went pale, spines prickling with fear.
The blue giant moved like a berserker god.
Each punch Ren threw carried a tremor wave that cracked the air itself—so forceful it shattered the incoming wooden arms into splinters, scattering countless fragments into the sky.
Even so, Hashirama remained calm.
"It's useless," he said coldly, voice echoing across the field. "Even if you smash them, my arms will regenerate."
As if proving his words—
The arms that had been destroyed began to regrow, wood surging and re-forming like something alive. In an instant, they returned, and the storm of fists resumed.
Then Hashirama lifted his chin slightly, eyes sharp.
"You have only two fists."
"I have thousands."
"If you can—then smash them all."
For a moment, it looked like a simple truth.
A terrifying, unavoidable logic.
But then—
Hashirama's expression subtly changed.
He felt it.
Something was wrong.
"…Wait." His brows drew together. "My attack speed… is slowing down?"
Not his strength.
Not his chakra.
Not exhaustion.
It was as if the movement of those countless arms had been dragged into thick mud. The rhythm was still there, the force was still monstrous—yet the speed was undeniably reduced.
And at the same time—
Ren's Perfect Susanoo was getting faster.
Not a little.
Fast enough that the fists blurred into afterimages. Tremor waves stacked on top of each other like overlapping thunder, hammering the wooden arms into pieces before they could even fully complete their strikes.
In a battle between monsters, a difference of a fraction of a second was enough to decide everything.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
In less than a heartbeat, hundreds of Hashirama's arms were smashed apart again—far more violently than before. The battlefield trembled under the repeated impacts, like the land itself was begging to split open.
Hashirama's eyes widened slightly.
"…Impossible."
He tried to force his pace back up.
But the more he pushed, the more he felt that invisible drag.
As if time itself had turned against him.
At the battlefield's edge, Leaf shinobi finally snapped out of their daze and erupted into disbelief.
"What—?!"
"Lord First's attacks… they really slowed down!"
"And the Fifth Hokage's Susanoo—he's getting faster! I can't even see his fists anymore!"
On the cliff, Tobirama's face went cold.
He stared at the battlefield with a shock he couldn't hide.
"Attack speed dropping like that… only something related to time could affect my brother this much."
His gaze flicked to Ren's eyes—those crimson pupils, the pattern spinning with quiet tyranny.
Tobirama's voice tightened.
"Ren's Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan… likely has a power that interferes with time."
And on the battlefield—
The blue Perfect Susanoo continued to surge forward, fists like meteors, tremor waves like the wrath of heaven.
For the first time, the True Several Thousand Hands looked… strained.
For the first time, Hashirama's overwhelming "thousands versus two" didn't feel absolute anymore.
Because Ren wasn't just punching.
He was rewriting the pace of the fight.
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