"Come on," Arata said calmly, golden eyes steady.
"Show me what else you've got. Let's see the true strength of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen."
Raiya's jaw tightened.
He felt insulted.
"You brat… you dare mock me?"
He slammed his blades together, chakra roaring through his veins.
"Thunder Blade Art — Falling Thunder!"
Crack!
Bzzzt!
Twin bolts of blue lightning, thick as a man's arm, burst from the Thunder Blades and tore through the air like raging serpents.
The earth trembled under their power.
But Arata only tilted his head slightly, unimpressed.
"The power's stronger than before," he murmured.
"But if that's all you've got… you can't kill me."
He clapped his hands together.
Golden light erupted around him.
"Let me show you… my lightning."
"Lightning Release — Meteor Strike."
CRACK—!
Dozens of golden spears of lightning formed instantly around him, each humming with lethal energy.
They shot forward in a blinding storm, faster than sight.
The twin blue lightning serpents were shredded into glittering motes before they even reached him.
Then the golden bolts tore straight through Raiya's defense.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The explosions overlapped into one massive detonation.
The ground split open. The shockwave flattened trees for hundreds of meters.
Night itself was devoured by light.
Even from far away, Sakura and the others staggered from the tremor.
"That's… that's Arata's power?" Sakura whispered, shielding her eyes from the glare.
"He's… only twelve."
She could hardly believe what she was seeing.
Not even Kakashi had ever unleashed something this devastating.
For a moment, it was like watching a god of thunder descend upon the earth.
When the blinding glow faded, a crater nearly a hundred meters wide and ten meters deep had formed where Raiya once stood.
The soil had turned black and glassy, still smoking from the heat.
Arata stepped to the edge, looking down.
At the bottom lay what was left of Raiya — his body charred beyond recognition, the Thunder Blades lying beside him.
"No way…" Arata murmured.
"That's him? That was Raiya?"
He dropped into the crater, landing beside the smoldering corpse.
"He's… dead?"
He stared for a long moment, disbelief etched across his face.
This was supposed to be one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist — a name that once made entire armies tremble.
And yet, he'd died from a single jutsu.
"Was he… an impostor?" Arata muttered, half to himself.
"There's no way the real Raiya would die this easily…"
He'd been waiting for some kind of secret technique — a last stand, a hidden card.
But nothing came.
One attack, and it was over.
He bent down and picked up the Thunder Blades, examining them under the pale moonlight.
"So these are the famous blades of the Mist, huh?"
He frowned.
"Ugly things."
They were crude, jagged, and heavy.
Powerful, yes — but inelegant.
Not his style.
He thought briefly about keeping them as trophies, but the idea soured quickly.
"I'll seal them away," he decided.
"When the Leaf and the Mist reconcile one day, I'll return them. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."
Right now, though, the Mist was still isolated from the world — no one to return them to.
Besides, the blades were useless to him.
He didn't need borrowed power.
Arata unrolled a small sealing scroll — the kind he'd learned to make under Kakashi's guidance.
He pressed his hand to the parchment, weaving chakra into the symbols.
A faint shimmer enveloped the blades, and in a soft flash of light, they vanished into the seal.
Then he turned toward what was left of Raiya's body.
"For one of the Seven Swordsmen… to die like this. It's almost sad."
He sighed quietly.
"You used to mock others with your funerals. I'll give you a proper one."
He crouched down, forming a sequence of seals.
"Earth Release — Flowing Sand Burial."
The ground around the crater stirred.
Loose soil rose up and flowed like water, covering the broken body piece by piece.
Within moments, a mound stood where Raiya had fallen.
Arata stepped forward and touched the ground gently, drawing chakra through his fingertips.
A small stone marker rose from the earth.
With his kunai, he carved a name into the surface:
Raiya of the Thunder Blades
The last spark of golden lightning flickered out from his fingers.
He stood there in silence for a moment.
He should have felt pride — victory over an elite jōnin, one of the Seven Swordsmen.
But instead… he felt empty.
"I was waiting for you to show me your true power," he said quietly.
"Guess that was it."
It didn't feel like triumph — only disappointment.
Had Raiya truly been that weak?
Or had Arata simply become too strong without realizing it?
He flexed his hand, feeling the crackle of chakra still coursing beneath his skin.
He had barely used a tenth of his chakra to end the fight.
"So… this is my level now."
He couldn't deny it anymore.
He had reached the power of an elite jōnin.
It was a strange realization.
Every village's Kage was chosen from among their elite jōnin — the highest of the high.
And now, at twelve years old, he had crossed that threshold.
The thought didn't thrill him.
It humbled him.
He looked at the fresh grave one last time.
"Rest well, Raiya."
Then he turned away, the night wind stirring his cloak.
"The Chūnin Exams are coming soon," he murmured.
"Maybe… it's time I stop hiding what I am."
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