Shinzuku City, the capital of the Land of Iron.
Because this nation was ruled by the samurai class, ninja were an unusually conspicuous presence here. Before entering the city, Shimizu removed his Anbu black cloak and put away his mask, changing into a fitted black outfit instead.
He strolled casually through the streets, admiring the distinctive, antique-style architecture. The commercial district was bustling—crowds flowing like water, traffic constant and lively.
What surprised him was that the prosperity here actually surpassed that of Konoha, the foremost village among the Five Great Nations.
The dense population alone was enough to demonstrate the nation's flourishing state.
Yet after walking for some time, aside from himself, he had not seen a single other ninja.
It seemed ninja were a rare species here.
Naturally, passersby pointed at him from time to time.
"Look! There's a strange person!"
"It's my first time seeing a ninja."
"Ninja look kind of weak…"
He had heard variations of these comments so many times that he was numb.
He was already close to losing control of the sword strapped to his back.
Originally, he had planned to appreciate the exotic scenery and then observe firsthand how samurai—another top-tier military force in this world—infused chakra into their swordsmanship.
But so far, he hadn't seen any so-called masters of the blade.
Instead, he was nearly drowned in a sea of civilian ridicule—and had endured several rounds of humiliating gawking.
Finally, he spotted a weapon shop.
Inside hung an array of dazzling weapons.
Steeling himself with a trace of anticipation, Shimizu stepped inside.
"Boss, I'd like to ask—" he began politely.
"We don't sell shuriken here!" the shopkeeper cut him off immediately.
"…No, that's not what I meant. I wanted to ask—"
"I told you, we don't sell the toys you ninja play with. Try somewhere else," the owner said impatiently, waving him away.
"…Actually, I'm looking for a long—"
"No long shuriken either! Go, go! Try the shop across the street. They've got those toys," the man pointed across the road, eager to get rid of him.
"…Alright. Thank you."
The shopkeeper let out a relieved sigh as Shimizu left.
Endure, Shimizu told himself. Feeling a strange mix of frustration and amusement, he prepared to walk into the weapon shop across the street.
"Boss—"
"Kuma-ni,, you bastard! You're framing me again? Can't stand that my business is better than yours?!" Before Shimizu could finish his word, he was violently interrupted. This shopkeeper unleashed a Gatling-gun volley of words.
"You know perfectly well I don't sell toys! Smearing my shop's reputation like this—what are you trying to pull?! Last time Lord Atetsu said my blades were good, you've been holding a grudge ever since, haven't you? Trying to make me look bad? Say something!"
The rant grew increasingly absurd.
Shimizu retreated preemptively.
After that, he visited several more weapon shops.
The same scenario repeated.
They had no desire whatsoever to do business with a ninja.
The more polite ones simply said, "We don't sell to you."
The ruder ones outright told him to get out of the Land of Iron.
Even offering extra payment didn't help.
This country truly was unfriendly toward ninja.
Contemptuous. Hostile. Xenophobic.
Before entering the Land of Iron, he had imagined the locals might treat ninja with indifference.
He hadn't expected outright rejection.
If civilians were like this, could those in power possibly welcome him warmly?
Yet he still held official documents requiring a transit seal—he had to pass through the Land of Iron on his way to the Land of Hot Water.
If he went directly to the port without proper authorization and something went wrong, it could easily escalate into a diplomatic incident.
And then he'd be saddled with yet another disgraceful charge.
"…Sigh."
With no other options, Shimizu headed to the Shinzuku shogunate building, hoping to obtain the necessary permit and leave this country as soon as possible.
At least one thing was reassuring—the samurai guards did not deliberately make things difficult for him.
He was smoothly escorted to the shogun's residence.
All that remained was to meet the leader of the samurai and obtain a seal.
"I am a ninja from Konoha. I have been ordered to carry out a mission in the Land of Hot Water and require entry and exit authorization from your country."
"Apologies. Lord Mifune is not currently present."
The steward of the shogunate delivered the harsh reality without hesitation.
Shimizu's hopes sank.
The "Lord Mifune" they referred to—
Was none other than Mifune, the supreme commander of the samurai of the Land of Iron.
"Not here?" Shimizu asked in surprise.
"Lord Mifune has gone out to sea on important business. He'll likely return in about half a month," the steward explained.
"And the general's seal?"
"Lord Mifune naturally took it with him."
"…Is there no one else who can make decisions?"
"I'm afraid not. Everything here is decided solely by Lord Mifune," the steward replied patiently.
"And my documents?" Shimizu gestured to the mission papers in his hand that required an official seal.
"I'm afraid you'll have to wait until Lord Mifune returns…"
Just as Shimizu was considering how to solve this troublesome situation, a middle-aged samurai stepped out from the shogunate residence. A vicious scar ran across his left eye.
"Young ninja, I can solve your problem."
"??"
"As long as you fight me once, I will personally guarantee to Lord Mifune that during the execution of your mission, you may freely enter and exit the Land of Iron without the general's seal."
"Lord Tatewaki, what if something goes wrong…" the steward said anxiously.
"No need to worry," the scarred samurai waved him off, then fixed his gaze on Shimizu. "I believe this powerful ninja before me would not betray his honor over a mere mission. Am I right?"
In that instant, Shimizu remembered.
When he had leapt across the canyon days ago, he had glimpsed a merchant caravan. The leading samurai with the formidable chakra presence—
It was him.
"So it was you!" Shimizu exclaimed, surprised they would meet again.
"Your strength was astonishing. We even inspected the area where you landed. That level of destruction is not something an ordinary ninja could achieve," Tatewaki said with a trace of admiration. "I see you carry not a standard ninja short blade, but a long sword. I assume you are also skilled in swordsmanship?"
Though phrased as a question, it was spoken with certainty.
"I am indeed proficient with a sword," Shimizu replied calmly. "Though I do not know how I compare to your samurai."
He chose to accept the challenge.
After all, he had long wanted to witness firsthand the combat style of the Land of Iron's samurai. And when he said he was "proficient," he wasn't exaggerating. He had practiced swordsmanship for over a decade. His teacher was Maruboshi Kosuke, an elite jōnin-level who had once received guidance from the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju—the founder of Konoha-style kenjutsu.
"With such confidence, it is a fight worth having!" Tatewaki smiled in satisfaction. "Shall we have Okisuke act as referee? Blades have no eyes—please keep watch."
"Very well."
Two more figures emerged from inside. One was a youth dressed in elegant clothing, around fourteen or fifteen years old. The other was the samurai named Okisuke.
Shimizu had already sensed two powerful chakra signatures within the residence.
Tatewaki's chakra surged like crashing tides.
Okisuke's was calm and deep, like the sea.
Different styles—but both undeniably powerful.
"You'd better not disappoint Uncle Tatewaki," the young girl said cheerfully. "He actually wanted to spar with you that very day at the canyon, but you moved too fast. So he waited here at the shogunate, certain you'd come. And you did!"
That explained it.
From the moment of that chance encounter at the canyon, this duel had been inevitable.
And truthfully, it suited Shimizu just fine.
He, too, wanted to see how samurai fought.
"Please," Tatewaki said, stepping into the center of the courtyard and slowly unsheathing his katana.
Shimizu drew his long sword in response.
"If you're ready—begin!" Okisuke's voice rang out.
The two figures vanished simultaneously.
Clang!
Their weapons collided for the first time before separating instantly.
After a single exchange—
Shimizu stepped back three paces.
Tatewaki only one.
The difference in strength was obvious.
Shimizu was taken aback.
His physical prowess, while not at the monstrous level of someone like Might Guy, was still exceptional. Otherwise, how could he wield lightning-fast sword techniques and execute high-speed thrusts?
In terms of speed, they were evenly matched.
But in raw strength—
He was clearly inferior.
He could not clash head-on.
But his opponent would force him into close-quarters combat.
Body Flicker Technique!
The instant Shimizu moved, a white blade flashed before his eyes.
He twisted sharply to the left, narrowly evading the strike, and used Body Flicker again—
This time the white blade appeared from the left.
Body Flicker!
He evaded yet again, several severed strands of black hair drifting down from the air.
Even using a one-seal technique repeatedly, he had nearly been cut down.
He couldn't widen the distance at all.
Tatewaki clung to him like glue.
The samurai's speed was terrifyingly fast.
In past battles, Shimizu relied on speed to gain the advantage and then create openings.
But this time—
His speed gave him no edge.
His strength was inferior.
The high-speed, high-intensity exchange left him no opportunity to weave other hand seals or unleash ninjutsu.
This—
Was pure sword-to-sword combat.
If I could use one-handed seals…
Another flash of silver streaked past his eyes. Shimizu felt a chill across his face and retreated sharply.
"Losing focus in battle is fatal," Tatewaki warned, but his attacks only grew fiercer. With unstoppable momentum, he slashed out a blade aura.
That fluctuation—
Chakra?!
Wind Release?!
An almost invisible sword aura, faintly glowing pale green, shot toward Shimizu at high speed.
Shimizu chose offense over defense.
Konoha-Style Kenjutsu: Dance of the Crescent Moon!
Just as it seemed Shimizu would be cleaved in two by the blade aura, three identical "Shimizus" suddenly appeared, causing the fatal strike to miss.
The sudden reversal shocked everyone present.
"That sword technique was created by Tobirama Senju."
A steady male voice came from the rooftop.
"Lord Mifune?! Weren't you departing for the Land of Artisans?" the steward exclaimed in surprise.
Standing there was a peculiar samurai: a strip of black beard along his mouth and chin, his head wrapped in bandages, clad in layered green armor, a katana at his side.
Mifune spoke calmly, "With a battle like this to watch, what's the harm in delaying my trip a little? This ninja is quite impressive."
In the courtyard, Tatewaki suddenly lost track of Shimizu's true position. His high-speed assault stalled for a split second. The moment he shifted into a defensive stance, a powerful gust came from behind.
When did he get behind me? Is this a ninja's jutsu?
There was no time to think.
He raised his katana with full strength to block the finishing strike—
The final, full-powered blow of Dance of the Crescent Moon—
Blocked.
Seemingly with ease.
Shimizu was stunned. This was the first person ever to neutralize his Dance of the Crescent Moon head-on.
Tatewaki was equally shaken. His carefully created opportunity to unleash Wind Release blade aura had been countered—and the opponent had launched such a fierce counterattack. If not for his superior strength…
For a brief moment, both men halted simultaneously.
Shimizu wiped his cheek. His fingers came away red. He had indeed been grazed.
In barely a dozen exchanges, he had nearly faced death multiple times.
A terrifying opponent.
"As expected… impressive. Then I won't hold back either," Tatewaki said.
He shifted his grip on the katana from forward to reverse. Lowering his center of gravity slightly, he let the tip of his blade droop behind him.
That strange stance—
What was he planning?
Whatever it was—
It was dangerous.
He must not allow close combat!
Hand seals!
Water Release: Water Formation Wall!
A powerful ring of water surged up from the ground, encircling Shimizu in a breath. With this strong defensive barrier in place, he finally allowed himself a brief exhale.
Now it was his turn to counterattack.
Through the Water Formation Wall, he could feel Tatewaki's aura rising to its peak.
Here it comes!
He wove more hand seals rapidly.
In his field of vision, Tatewaki charged directly at him! Does he not realize the Water Formation Wall is a high-level defensive jutsu? Moreover, in a straight-line charge, the Water Severing Wave required no aiming.
Water Release: Water Severing Wave!
A violently compressed, ultra-high-pressure jet of water shot from Shimizu's mouth, forming a razor-sharp blade.
Unlike ordinary Water Release techniques, Severing Wave concentrated immense water pressure into a tiny surface area, capable of slicing targets apart in an instant.
This should decide it—
But what Shimizu witnessed next would be something he would never forget in his lifetime.
A silver flash erupted... and the S-rank Water Severing Wave was split into two separate streams.
The silver light didn't slow down; the Water Formation Wall was sliced open like paper.
Shimizu froze.
As Tatewaki closed the distance, he stood his ground, unable to dodge in time. He instinctively raised his left hand—
Another silver flash streaked across his side. In the next instant, a sharp clang echoed.
Two katanas collided in front of Shimizu's face: Okisuke's blade had intercepted Tatewaki's lethal strike.
But Shimizu's Chidori had also ignited the moment he raised his hand. An even more dazzling blue-and-white light drowned out the silver, surging toward Tatewaki with the cry of a thousand birds.
Normally, Chidori required a run-up... Wait, is this Lightning Cutter?
No.
Even Lightning Cutter required hand seals.
Shimizu had formed none.
This was an entirely new derivative of Chidori.
He had always sought to simplify its prerequisites and shorten its seal sequence.
And at this life-and-death moment—
It had naturally come to fruition.
The next instant—
Thud!
Shimizu was sent flying, man and sword together, crashing through several trees before disappearing from sight.
His fate unknown.
Only then did the two shogunate buildings struck earlier by Severing Wave collapse with a thunderous roar, dust billowing into the sky.
"How does the taste of life and death feel?" Mifune asked calmly, retracting his right foot.
He glanced at the two stunned samurai, then at the buildings that had been sliced to pieces by Severing Wave.
"I'm leaving. Handle the aftermath. I believe the young lady knows what to do."
"Got it, Boss Mifune! Don't worry, I'll take care of everything!"
The girl in fine clothes skipped up to him, gave a respectful bow, then flashed a bright, innocent smile.
"I'll make sure to treat our guest very well."