The Moment Before the Storm – Satoru's Blade Awakens
The sky was ablaze, the silhouette of the Infernal Flame Qilin casting an ominous glow over the entire training ground.
The air was unbearably hot—trees withered, rocks cracked, and the very earth beneath their feet trembled under the scorching pressure.
At the heart of it all—
Satoru stood firm, gripping Yubashiri with both hands.
The muscles in his arms, shoulders, and chest tensed, veins subtly bulging as he channeled his entire strength and will into the blade.
His messy black hair swayed wildly in the hot wind, yet his gaze remained sharp and unwavering.
BOOM!
The moment Satoru unleashed his full power, a blinding surge of lightning erupted from Yubashiri.
Crackling silver arcs coiled around the blade, hissing like a wrathful thunder god.
But that wasn't all—
From his palm, a dark, ominous energy surged forth, slithering along the blade like a stream of shadowy magma, merging seamlessly with the lightning crackling across its surface.
Jiraiya narrowed his eyes, observing closely.
"Black Lightning?"
Orochimaru smirked, an eerie glint flickering in his reptilian eyes.
"No… this is even more bizarre than Black Lightning…" Hiruzen muttered gravely.
Under the scrutiny of the elite shinobi gathered, the dark energy began to change.
The once silver lightning turned jet black.
The air crackled—not just with electricity—but with something more primal, more dangerous.
A power never before recorded in ninja history.
But it still wasn't over.
From Satoru's very core, a pure, undiluted chakra fused into the blade—causing it to glow with a radiant brilliance, reminiscent of a medic ninja's chakra scalpel.
Three forces—Lightning, Dark Chakra, and Pure Chakra—merged into one.
At that moment, Yubashiri was no longer just a sword.
It was alive.
It breathed.
It resonated.
Shock and Awe – The Infernal Flame Qilin Descends
Hiruzen's eyes sharpened, his expression unreadable.
Jiraiya, no longer grinning, silently assessed the situation.
Orochimaru licked his lips, a predator discovering a new, fascinating prey.
As for the others?
They held their breath.
They didn't know what kind of power this was—but they knew one thing for certain—
This was not ordinary ninjutsu.
By now, the Infernal Flame Qilin had almost reached Satoru.
The sheer heat alone was enough to scorch his skin, his sweat evaporating the moment it dripped.
A normal ninja wouldn't even need to be hit—just standing here meant certain death.
But—
Satoru did not move.
A mysterious aura of resistance emanated from Yubashiri, repelling the overwhelming heat.
Yet even so—
Satoru could feel the pain.
This was reality.
This wasn't a game, or an anime fight scene.
A full-power, A+ ranked ninjutsu wasn't something to be taken lightly.
Any ordinary ninja would have already perished.
But—
One-Style Sword Art – Infernal Flame Prison Slash!
Tightening his grip on Yubashiri, Satoru's eyes gleamed.
He inhaled deeply, then roared:
"One-Style Sword Art – Infernal Flame Prison Slash!!"
SWOOSH!
A single sword slash tore through the air.
Dark lightning, ominous chakra, and pure energy erupted in a terrifying fusion, tearing apart the space before him.
The blade's edge shimmered with a blue-black flame, carving a violent arc through the battlefield.
BOOM!!
The very moment his slash collided with the Infernal Flame Qilin—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A shockwave of energy erupted, shaking the entire training field.
Black Flames Consume the Qilin
But the most shocking part—
The Infernal Flame Qilin… wasn't just sliced apart.
It was devoured by the same blue-black flames erupting from Satoru's blade.
Under the stunned gazes of every ninja present, those sinister flames latched onto the Qilin's remnants like hungry parasites, greedily consuming its chakra.
Yashiro's face turned deathly pale.
"What… the hell…?"
He could feel his connection to his jutsu being severed.
Being corroded.
Being annihilated.
In mere seconds—
His A+ ranked Infernal Flame Qilin had been erased from existence.
By a single sword.
By a single swordsman.
The Silence of Defeat
As the last remnants of black fire flickered out, Satoru lowered his sword.
Yubashiri returned to normal, its supernatural energy dissipating.
He exhaled sharply, his body suddenly feeling heavier.
"Chakra…" He muttered. "It's still not stable."
He was painfully aware—that forcing three different types of energy to coexist within a single sword technique placed immense strain on his body.
If he overused it, he'd end up crippling himself.
And truth be told—
Despite his overwhelming victory, that single sword slash had drained every ounce of chakra he had left.
Never underestimate an opponent just by their "rank."
This battle proved something crucial—
Yashiro wasn't just a Chunin.
His true combat ability had already reached a High-Jonin level.
Even so—
Satoru had won.
No one needed to declare it.
No one needed to announce it.
Everyone watching already understood.
In this moment—
A swordsman had taken another step forward.
Not just in strength—
But in legacy.
🔥 Final Thoughts
This battle would be remembered.
Not just for Satoru's overwhelming display of power—
But for the fear it planted in the hearts of those who witnessed it.
A ninja who could devour ninjutsu…
A swordsman who could stand against the elements themselves…
What kind of monster had just been born in Konoha?