"You really think so little of me." Zixu stretched his muscles, catching the mixture of disdain and pity in the eyes of those around him.
"As the wise once said, 'A true warrior commands respect, not asks for it.' Seems like I'll have to put my skills on display. Otherwise, how many of you do I have to cut down just to get close to the Raikage?"
Zixu had already made up his mind. If it came to a fight, every strike would count.
The real meaning of that old saying? Simple. If a warrior doesn't strike hard, no one will respect him.
He shifted into his stance—one hand forming a claw, the other clenched into a fist below his chest. Every muscle in his body tensed as he prepared to strike.
He had overheard people whispering about Balio's ironclad defense, an impenetrable technique. A direct attack would be the stupidest move.
And that's exactly why he was going to do it.
In the blink of an eye, Zixu appeared before Balio. His opponent was already braced, defensive stance locked in. Just as planned.
Under Balio's monstrous control, his muscles twisted and hardened, absorbing impact like a fortress. Doton: Kongō Tate (Earth Release: Adamant Shield)—a technique that turned his body into a living wrecking ball.
But just as Zixu's fist was about to land—
He stopped. Abruptly. Unnaturally.
The crowd gasped. With the speed he had been moving, it should have been impossible to halt in an instant. Even if a solid wall had blocked him, he should have crashed through it.
Stopping a high-speed shinobi like that? Pure insanity.
Zixu didn't care. He never intended to use his fists. His real attack came from below.
"As an old master once said, 'Isn't it a pleasure to learn and apply what you've learned? Isn't it even greater when rivals travel far just to be humiliated? And isn't it best when they collapse before even realizing what happened?'"
His method was written in the classics.
What? You don't get it?
Let Teacher Zixu explain.
The real meaning: Wouldn't it be great if we didn't need sneak attacks? Wouldn't it be even better if challengers crossed entire nations just to get their asses kicked? And wouldn't it be best if they were knocked out before they could even be mad about it?
That, my friends, is the way of a true warrior.
Before Balio could react, Zixu's left leg shot upward.
Through the slight gap between his arms, Balio barely caught a glimpse of Zixu's foot blotting out the sun.
He tried to move.
Too late.
CRACK.
Zixu's heel smashed into Balio's back. His massive frame plowed into the ground, forming a crater that shook the battlefield.
The crowd instinctively stepped back. Their confidence wavered.
Balio, battered but conscious, slowly uncurled from his defensive stance. His chakra flared violently, merging with the surrounding terrain. Doton: Iwa no Yoroi (Earth Release: Stone Armor)—sand and rock surged around him, swallowing everything in its path, including Zixu.
Technically, Balio had already lost. He resorted to ninjutsu first, breaking the rules.
But no one moved to stop him. Because deep down, they all knew—
None of them stood a chance against the man who had just folded Balio like a cheap chair.
The earth twisted and compacted, encasing Balio's body in jagged, stone-plated armor.
Zixu, trapped in the shifting terrain, remained unfazed.
Balio roared as his body twisted unnaturally—his limbs snapping into a predatory stance.
It was almost… animalistic.
His rock-clad arms and legs snapped forward, forming Doton: Kōshoku Ganshō (Earth Release: Crushing Boulder Maw)—a technique designed to devour its target whole.
Zixu sighed.
"What's with all this flashy nonsense?" he muttered. "Nothing beats a good, old-fashioned punch."
With a flex of his muscles, Zixu shattered the stone bindings around him.
Balio lunged, jaws of stone closing in.
Zixu didn't dodge.
He didn't need to.
A golden aura erupted from his body. His hair lengthened, waving like a fiery crown.
Midair, he stretched backward, his eyes half-lidded in boredom.
Then, with almost casual ease—
BOOM.
A single punch.
Balio's monstrous form exploded into fragments of rock and dust, disintegrating before the strike even fully connected. The shockwave rippled outward, flattening everything in its wake.
Balio, now just a man again, plummeted from the sky. His body—once impenetrable—lay broken, every muscle torn apart by the sheer force of Zixu's attack.
Before he lost consciousness, he croaked out a single question.
"Your name… what is it…?"
Zixu scratched his head, taking his time before answering.
"The Master once said: I don't worry about people not knowing me. I worry about not knowing others."
Balio blacked out before he could even process those words.
Zixu cracked his knuckles, turning toward the remaining challengers with a playful smirk.
"Alright then," he said. "Who's next?"
Silence.
Then—
"If we all rush him at once, he can't take us all down!" someone shouted. "This guy clearly isn't honorable. No need to follow the rules! Attack!"
Honor was forgotten in an instant.
Desperation took over.
Shinobi who had sworn to uphold the code of combat charged recklessly, driven by fear.
Zixu tilted his head, watching them with amusement.
"You guys sure about this?" he asked, rolling his shoulders.
The answer was already obvious.
Zixu sighed, cracking his neck.
"Alright then," he said, grinning. "Let's dance."
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