Ryuma walked forward until he stood face to face with Danzo, looking him directly in his one visible left eye. Looking at him coldly, Ryuma spoke up. "Danzo, I am taking my parents away from here. You should be thankful to Lord Third that your life was saved today because he arrived on time. You don't know just how close you were to death, and I hope you keep that in mind." He paused.
And continued speaking, "But there is always a price to pay for your actions, right? The actions you committed against my parents, kidnapping them and trying to kill them, you will have to pay the price for them too."
As soon as Ryuma finished speaking, his hand moved and settled on the hilt of his sword. The subtle motion did not escape Danzo's notice. Seeing this, Danzo let out a low chuckle and spoke in a disdainful, provoking tone. "What? Want to attack me? I dare you."
Danzo was genuinely hoping that Ryuma would attack him. The moment Ryuma struck first, Danzo would have a valid reason to order the surrounding Root ninjas to move and contain him. But he had miscalculated. Yes, Ryuma would be provoked. Yes, Ryuma would attack. Whether Danzo would survive that attack was an entirely different matter, and within the next few moments, he would deeply regret those words.
Ryuma lowered himself into a sword-drawing stance and vanished.
The wooden floor at the crossroads of the underground Root base exploded beneath his feet, splinters and cracks spreading outward from the sheer force of his launch. One moment he was standing still, and the next he was upon Danzo. His blade flashed through the air, aimed directly at Danzo's neck.
Danzo's pupils shrank violently. He had not expected such speed. Of course, he knew Ryuma was powerful after personally containing the Nine-Tails, but witnessing that power firsthand was an entirely different matter. The attack was absurdly fast. Danzo barely managed to react, as instinct screamed at him to hurriedly shift backward and sideways to evade the incoming slash.
Then his expression changed. The sword's trajectory shifted mid-motion from a horizontal strike into a diagonal cut. The blade swept past, and a spray of blood erupted into the air as Danzo's left hand separated cleanly from his arm.
Before the severed hand could hit the floor, Hiruzen appeared in a blur between them. He had not expected Ryuma to attack. Raising his adamantine staff to block the path between the two, he shouted, "Stop! What are you doing, Ryuma?!"
Ryuma merely shrugged as he backed slightly, as though the entire situation was trivial. "Well, trying to kill him, of course," he replied casually. "But I failed. Too bad."
Hiruzen pointed his adamantine staff toward him, his face dark with anger. "You..."
Clearly, Hiruzen was furious with Ryuma's actions, but Ryuma could not have cared less. Holding Kitetsu loosely in his left hand, he casually stuck the little finger of his right hand into his ear as if the situation bored him.
"He has to pay the price, right?" Ryuma said nonchalantly. "As I said, everything has a price. He dared to try to kill my parents. I tried to kill him, failed just like he failed, but at the very least, I cut off his hand, right?" His gaze shifted toward Danzo's bleeding stump for a brief moment before returning to Hiruzen. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Ryuma's lips. "Seems fair to me."
The contrast in the scene was striking. Ryuma stood there completely nonchalant, as if cutting off Danzo's hand was a trivial matter not worth paying attention to. His relaxed posture and casual expression made the atmosphere feel oppressive. In contrast, every Root ninja present had already tensed up. Their hands hovered near their weapons, muscles coiled and ready to move at a moment's notice. Their loyalty toward Danzo had never been in doubt, and the moment Danzo gave the order, they would attack without hesitation.
However, the Root ninjas were not the only ones present. The Anbu were also on high alert. Standing around the area, they watched their every movement carefully, prepared to intervene the instant Root shinobis attempted anything. If Root attacked Ryuma here, the situation would escalate beyond a simple confrontation and turn into a direct clash between Root and forces loyal to the Hokage. That was a scenario nobody wanted.
Normally, keeping Root under control would not have been an easy task for the Anbu. Today was different, however, as dozens of unconscious Root ninjas still lay scattered across the floor, slumped against the railings or sprawled across the wooden planks. Nearly thirty to forty percent of Root's forces present had been knocked unconscious earlier from Ryuma's Conqueror's Haki outburst and had yet to wake up. Their reduced numbers allowed the Anbu to keep the remaining Root operatives in check and prevent them from acting rashly.
Meanwhile, Danzo quickly pressed several chakra points around his severed arm, slowing the blood loss. His face remained tense as he looked at Ryuma, narrowing his eye. "You... your target from the very beginning was my hand, wasn't it?"
Ryuma smiled. "No. My target was always your head." His answer came without the slightest hesitation. "But I knew I wouldn't be able to cut off your head so easily, after all you are a veteran ninja, so I decided to settle for your hand instead."
Ryuma shrugged lightly. "Well, you see, my parents, the same parents you just had kidnapped, taught me from childhood that you should always aim for something big. Your target should be big. Even if you fail, you'll at least get something smaller along the way." He pointed casually toward Danzo. "So my big target was your head."
He glanced toward the severed hand lying on the floor. "I missed." A grin appeared on his face. "But I got the smaller target instead. Your hand." He nodded as if evaluating a successful business transaction. "So, all in all, a pretty good deal, I'd say." His smile widened further. "Thank you for personally verifying my parents' teachings for me."
The veins on Danzo's forehead visibly bulged. Hearing the mockery hidden beneath Ryuma's calm tone only made his anger grow. Grinding his teeth, Danzo said, "And you deliberately made the cut jagged, didn't you? So that my hand can't be healed."
Ryuma immediately shook his head. "No, no. I am completely innocent in this matter." He raised his free hand as if defending himself from a false accusation. "It is my sword that is mischievous, you know."
Ryuma looked down at Kitetsu in his left hand and sighed dramatically. "This sword is so mischievous and naughty that it requires my full concentration to control its cutting power." He looked back at Danzo. "The problem is that I was angry. I wanted to make you pay the price, so I forgot to properly control my sword."
Ryuma clicked his tongue. "And look what happened." He lifted Kitetsu slightly. "This naughty sword of mine, instead of cutting your hand cleanly, made the wound all jagged."
His expression was so sincere that it almost looked believable. Almost.
Looking at the blade, Ryuma continued, "When you look at this sword, you'll probably think it's just a plain-looking straight sword, how can it cut jagged?" He gently waved it once. "But don't be fooled." A grin appeared on his face. "This sword isn't called a cursed blade for nothing, right? Oh, wait. You wouldn't know what a cursed blade is anyway."
Ryuma scratched his cheek thoughtfully before smiling again. "So if it makes you feel any better, then it's not my fault." He pointed at Kitetsu with his right hand. "It's my sword's fault."
Several Anbu nearly twitched at the absurd explanation. Meanwhile, Ryuma himself was thoroughly enjoying the situation because he had absolutely done it on purpose. The reason he had chosen Kitetsu for the attack was precisely because of its nature.
He knew very well that if Kitetsu severed Danzo's hand, the wound would not heal normally. Danzo could try every medical treatment available, but it would not matter. As long as the injury came from Kitetsu, recovering that hand was no longer an option, and knowing that fact while calmly blaming the sword made the entire situation even more amusing to Ryuma.
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