Chapter 100: It's You
Swish!
Thwack-thwack-thwack!
A figure blurred past, intercepting a barrage of devastating kicks with a series of precise, seemingly effortless blocks.
The raging crimson mist surrounding Might Dai pulsed violently. Beneath his feet, the ground had cratered from the sheer force of his movements.
"Uncle Dai! Calm down! It's not too late to stop!"
A familiar, slightly lazy voice cut through the chaotic air.
Within the frenzied, all-consuming state of the Eighth Gate, a sliver of Dai's consciousness registered the words. He halted his charge, the red haze around him flickering uncertainly.
As the dust and chakra-fog settled, the figure before him came into focus. It was Liumu, who had somehow appeared here. And it had been Liumu who had so casually deflected his attacks.
Might Dai knew the power of the Eight Gates. He felt it—the exponential multiplication of strength and speed granted by the Gate of Death. It was the ultimate technique, a power paid for with life itself, usable only once.
"Uncle Dai!"
Seeing the usually jovial, unassuming man now a vessel of apocalyptic energy, Liumu stepped forward, his expression grave. From his Time Room subspace, he retrieved the body of one of the Heluo's ten forms.
"You can't die yet. If you die, who will take care of Gai?"
His meaning was unmistakable. But the secret of the Eight Gates was known to few, even in Konoha. Might Dai had long made peace with the fact that opening the Death Gate was a one-way journey. He glanced past Liumu at the remaining, wary members of the Seven Swordsmen.
"Leave them to me," Liumu stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Don't worry. With me here, none of them are going anywhere." He thrust the Heluo flesh towards Dai. "You need to eat this."
"So… you know the secret of the Eighth Gate after all," Dai rasped, the red mist distorting his voice.
"The Gate of Death shatters the body's natural limiters, concentrating all chakra into a final, burning eruption," Dai continued, his form shuddering as the crimson energy writhed. "Even if I stop now… this body is past saving. No medical ninjutsu can undo this."
"That's why you need to eat it!" Liumu insisted.
Just then, a shuffling sound came from behind. Liumu didn't even turn. With a thought, he activated the defensive properties of the Kizaru template. A shimmering, hexagonal barrier of light—a facsimile of the Yata Mirror—flared into existence around him and Dai.
The familiar golden light sparked immediate recognition among the Kirigakure swordsmen. The memory of their humiliating defeat at the gates of their own village was still raw. They had come to eliminate a Konoha chūnin squad, only to encounter him again.
"I suggest you don't move," Liumu's voice was flat, but it carried a killing intent so dense it seemed to chill the air. "Otherwise, the consequences will be far worse than your last nap."
But Liumu couldn't afford to focus on them. Every second counted. Dai's life force was draining away at a terrifying rate.
"Uncle Dai, I know this is hard to believe. But I swear on my master Jiraiya's honor—eat this, and you will not only live, but I will also take care of the trash behind us."
Dai's relationship with Liumu was different from his bond with Gai. This young man, who had broken every convention in Konoha, now commanded such fear that the infamous Seven Swordsmen dared not advance. Dai saw that fear in their eyes.
"The Eight Gates exist to protect what is most precious. Gai is safe now. Your duty is done."
Time was critical. Liumu hadn't grilled the Heluo flesh this time. Raw, as sashimi, would have to do.
Seeing the unwavering certainty in Liumu's eyes, Dai finally turned his head, looking one last time in the direction his son had fled. He reached out a trembling, crimson-wreathed hand and took the offered flesh. His pale, pupil-less eyes met Liumu's.
"Eat it. Now," Liumu urged softly, then finally turned his full attention to the Kiri intruders. "Take your time. As for them… consider this my performance for you."
The moment his focus shifted, Liumu's body dissolved into a shower of golden light particles.
BAM!
A swordsman wielding a distinctive double-bladed sword—the Kiba—exploded into a cloud of blood and viscera before he could even twitch.
"Form up! He's attacking!" Raiga Kurosuki (presumed, based on blade) shouted, his voice tight with panic under his mask. He, more than any of them, understood Liumu's horrifying capabilities. An opponent who could ignore nearly all physical attacks was their absolute worst nightmare.
BOOM!
Another detonation of gore. This time, the blood mist bloomed from Raiga's own chest. A solidified fist of light retracted from the cloud. Raiga's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed without a sound.
The slaughter was methodical, merciless, and incomprehensibly fast. The remaining swordsmen could only watch, helpless, as their comrades were reduced to crimson stains one by one.
Finally, only Loquat Jūzō remained. Seeing escape was impossible, he gave up. He drove the massive Kubikiribōchō (Executioner's Blade) into the earth and looked up at the shimmering points of light in the air.
"Just finish it," he growled, closing his eyes. "I know I'm no match for you."
The light coalesced, and Liumu reformed in front of him, solid and real. He reached out and patted Jūzō's shoulder. "A real man fights to the death. He doesn't kneel and wait for the blade like a lamb."
Jūzō's eyes snapped open in confusion, meeting Liumu's gaze mere inches away. A bitter sneer twisted his lips. His silence spoke of utter resignation.
"I'm not going to kill you," Liumu stated.
Jūzō stared, dumbfounded. "Why? Even if you spare me, our mission here has failed. Returning to Kiri means death. If I must die, let it be by your hand, not my village's executioners."
"Your mission… was to capture a girl named Rin, correct?"
Hearing Liumu state their objective so plainly drained the last of Jūzō's defiance. He was utterly defeated.
"What I can tell you is this mission was doomed from the start." Liumu glanced back, satisfied to see Dai finally consuming the Heluo flesh. He turned back, reaching into his pouch to pull out a small, sealed scroll. He handed it to Jūzō.
"If you wish to live, take this. Take your sword, go to the Land of Rain, and find a man named Yahiko. He will explain everything."
The Akatsuki needed to grow. While Jūzō wasn't his first choice, he was a man of conviction—a survivor who had faced death with dignity both in Kiri's dungeons and here today. Liumu needed him alive.
"And these…?" Jūzō gestured to the scattered, ownerless legendary blades around them.
"These," Liumu said, his tone final, "will be held by Konoha, for safekeeping, until your village… requests their return."
...
Jūzō's survival piqued Dai's curiosity, but Liumu's authority was beyond question. If Liumu chose to spare him, there was a reason.
Dai finished the last piece of the strange, potent fish. A profound, rumbling gurgle echoed from his abdomen. The violent, self-consuming crimson aura around him stuttered, then began to recede, not with the finality of death, but with the slow, reluctant ebb of a receding tide. Color and awareness slowly returned to his eyes. The impossible had happened. The Gate of Death was closing, and he was still alive.
(End of Chapter)
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