Their figures split apart, then collided again in the next second at even greater speed. Slashes and tearing strikes flew like a machine at full output, blade and claw crashing together again and again with shrill wind howls.
Clang, clang, clang.
Within a single breath, even under clear moonlight and with eyes fixed on the fight, no one could see their exact movements. Only two blurred streaks shifted positions in an instant, leaving no chance to interfere.
Sparks rained down where blade and claw met, and the air was filled with dense metallic crashes and cutting friction sounds. The sharp currents from their clashes carved deep marks into the rock walls and ground like savage claw traces.
As the fight grew faster and more violent, Moryo quickly realized that three deep wounds had appeared at the corner of its eye, its neck, and its chest. The opponent's blade was slowly breaking through its defense, using its body like a whetstone to adjust to this new power and speed.
"Strength not weaker than mine, and speed not weaker than mine."
Fear spread wildly in Moryo's mind. "This human…"
At the instant its focus slipped, Ryoma, who had been forced back to create distance, suddenly looked up. He hurled the Ring-Pommel Saber in his hand like a bolt of silver lightning straight at Moryo's face.
Moryo's eyes shifted, and it hastily raised its exoskeleton-covered arm to block.
Clang.
The Ring-Pommel Saber was knocked away, but the impact made Moryo stumble, exposing a huge opening in front of its body.
"Got you!"
A hunter's thrill flashed in Ryoma's eyes as he appeared in front of Moryo. His arms lashed out in a blur, leaving countless afterimages.
Boom, boom, boom!
Heavy fists poured down like a storm, slamming into Moryo's chest and face. Every strike carried the penetrating force of Gentle Fist.
Crack, crack, kacha!
The hard black exoskeleton on Moryo's body let out strained breaking sounds under the barrage, shards flying everywhere.
This was Gentle Fist? This was the seemingly soft and powerless Gentle Fist of the Ryoma Clan?
Everyone watching held their breath, staring at this rare moment and burning the unbelievable clash into their minds.
The battered Moryo finally snapped out of the storm of attacks. It let out a shrill scream and lunged forward, clamping one hand around Ryoma's wrist to force the terrifying combo to stop. Its mask split open, and a crimson light gathered inside its mouth.
It stared straight into Ryoma's eyes, searching for fear or hesitation. There was none at all. In those eyes was only a pure, absorbed frenzy, a clear enjoyment of power colliding.
"This thing is just a Guai monster."
The thought flashed through Moryo's mind, absurd even to itself. In the next instant, the Ring-Pommel Saber it had knocked away seemed to come alive, tracing a clean arc through the air and flying back into Ryoma's free hand.
Ryoma seized the hilt and twisted hard, using the grip on his wrist as leverage. A harsh blade flash swept across Moryo's vision like a full Moon. The arm holding Ryoma was severed at the shoulder, and thick black fluid sprayed out.
A roar of pain and disbelief burst from Moryo. For the first time, fear wrapped tight around its heart.
The crimson beam it had hurriedly gathered shot out of its mouth, not at Ryoma but sweeping across the space in front of it to block pursuit. The beam cut and melted the ground, then slashed upward into the already unstable ceiling. Massive rocks crashed down and piled up between them, forming a tall wall of Gravel that filled the air with dust.
At the severed shoulder, dark purple mist churned as a new arm grew back at a visible speed. Yet Moryo had no intention of lingering or counterattacking. It turned at once and spread the huge bat wings on its back.
It had to escape. It had not fully mastered this body's true power, and against this human-shaped Guai thing, it could gain no advantage and might die here. As long as it escaped and found time to understand this body, it could return and destroy him and the entire Shinobi World.
Its wings beat hard, sending a fierce gust through the space. Its body shot upward like a black arrow, straight toward the hole in the ceiling that led to the night sky. Cold wind brushed its face, and the Moon seemed within reach.
Just as it was about to burst out into the open, bathed in moonlight, a white streak flashed past its side. Reflected in its crimson eyes, with the Moon behind him, Ryoma hovered above. Those Pure Byakugan locked onto it as he swung his blade.
Time seemed to freeze. The Ring-Pommel Saber lost its shape to sheer speed, leaving only pale arcs of light traced by the Moon. The air screamed as it was torn apart.
Seven cold, moonlit slashes bloomed in the same instant. The world in Moryo's eyes shattered.
Both arms were cut off at the shoulders, its body severed cleanly at the waist. Its wings were sliced away, its legs cut apart, and there was no pain, only a deep cold and emptiness. The dismembered remains crashed back down onto the altar below, throwing up a vast cloud of dust.
Ryoma descended slowly, his white wings folding as he landed beyond the dust. His gaze passed through the haze and fixed on the ruined body of Moryo. In the distance, Hiruzen Sarutobi and the others stared, their hearts lodged in their throats.
A roar filled with fear and Wrath erupted from within the dust, like the final howl of a dying beast. At the same time, the eyes of the lifeless Iwagakure Statue soldiers glowed red once more. They rose in a tide and surged toward Ryoma.
"Stop them," Ryoma shouted, forcing his injured body forward to meet the charge. The others followed without hesitation. Only Ryoma, who held the Miko legacy, could truly kill Moryo, and they had to buy him time.
Ryoma stepped into the dust and saw Moryo reduced to a broken stump. Dark purple mist boiled over the remains, and severed limbs regenerated at terrifying speed. Wings and legs were already taking shape.
"Why," Moryo rasped as it struggled up from the pit. "I should stand above all humans."
Miroku! What kind of person did you bring here? This was not the power of a Miko, nor something humans should wield.
It tried to flee again as its new feet found the ground. When it looked up, it met a pair of calm Pure Byakugan. Ryoma stood before it, looking down, and slowly raised his right hand.
The bell on his wrist glowed faintly, and the dim patterns on the altar beneath his feet lit up with a soft white light. Moryo's pupils shrank as fear surfaced. After thousands of years and countless cycles of Sealing Technique and escape, it felt true fear for the first time.
"No, no," it begged, its ancient pride and Arrogance collapsing. "Spare me. I can give you anything. Power, authority, wealth, immortality."
It never finished. Ryoma closed his fingers in full view of Moryo's Obito Zetsu. A gentle force, utterly opposed to Moryo, descended and crushed its regenerating body.
With a dull blast, Moryo exploded into a mass of black purple mist along with its wailing Obito Zetsu. Only a pale bone mask, cracked all over, remained in the fog.