With assignments made, Yorin surged ahead, laughing "hahaha!" as he charged the four Mist swordsmen.
Seeing the commander so fired up, the others exchanged a look—then did the same, each rushing their target.
They were Kage or beyond; even the "slowest," Jiraiya, moved like a ground-effect craft.
In a blink, the three prongs collided.
As Yorin intercepted the four Swordsmen, explosions boomed behind him—and shouts of "Obito!!" and "Kakashi!!!!"
"Do your best, Kakashi."
"And Obito—I hope you like the little gift I brought you."
He thought it as he faced the four.
In his sprint, Lightning Armor flared and the Thunder–Fire twin blades came out—but he didn't use Susanoo, the Chidori-kunai wheel, or Even the Eight Gates.
A little face-saving for Kiri's Swordsmen.
In his plan, these guys would swear fealty and become his spearhead in the counterattack on Kiri.
So now—
He would beat them senseless—until there was nothing left—to show them the gulf between them.
"Konoha's Flame Claw…"
"A Kage-class?"
Seeing Uchiha Yorin blocking their path, the four reacted differently.
The first-gen holdovers, scarred by Konoha geniuses, showed wariness.
The praised prodigy, Mangetsu Hōzuki, wore the opposite—eager light.
Either way, they drew blades and flowed forward—swiftly encircling Uchiha Yorin.
"Don't be afraid—we outnumber—" Fuguki wanted to say—but the memory of a certain watermelon-headed father figure crushed his courage and will.
Yorin: "Tch."
He didn't like what he saw.
"A swordsman can lack many things—but not that bite."
Without that fire, a man is done.
I thought I might get a good fight.
What a shame.
In front of me are not perfect weapons of war—just a pile of rusted, useless scrap.
Snapping your blades will be as easy as snapping dogtail grass.
A verbal acid bath for the first-gen Swordsmen.
Damn—he saw through us?!
Feeling Yorin's strength and killing intent, the four went pale; Fuguki stepped back half a pace, but Raiga and Jūzō barked in anger—
"Bastard—looking down on us?! Konoha punk?!"
They lunged—lightning and severing blades arcing in.
Before they landed: "Hold—elders, let me take him! Leave this man to me!"
Mangetsu spoke up:
"Konoha's Flame Claw—I've wanted to test myself against you for a long time!"
The white-haired prodigy grew more excited as he spoke—body trembling—
"Genius swordsman to genius swordsman—bloodline to bloodline—whose blade is stronger? Uchiha's Flame Claw or Kiri's Hiramekarei? I want—I need to know!!"
"Heh… heh-heh-heh—hahahaha…"
Yorin laughed with delight. "Good—very good." No mockery in his voice—only approval for Mangetsu.
"A year ago, I'd have said yes to a proper duel—but now—"
He moved.
In lightning's glare, he became lightning—speed beyond sense.
"So fast!!"
"How—?!"
"I—I can't even see him!?"
The gap shook Mangetsu to the core. Against that speed, the only thing he could do was swing both blades—fight by instinct. If skill and experience fail, trust the body.
The next second, Yorin's lightning blade touched his throat.
"Konoha's Flame Claw?!"
"Regrettably—"
"I've far surpassed who I was."
"Now I need a better title—maybe you can help name it?"
A bead of sweat slid down Mangetsu's brow.
"How… can this be…"
"—Mangetsu, fall back!!"
Jūzō roared in from the side—
Heaved the absurdly huge Kubikiribōchō in a brutal cleave—
Yorin: "Good strength."
He praised as he lifted the lightning blade to meet it.
By the eye it was a mismatch.
A giant two-handed slab, charge-boosted—
Versus a standard shinobi sword, casually parried from a standstill.
Jūzō was furious—and elated:
"Too arrogant! That's your—wait—this power—ah!!!"
The clash's result stunned.
Yorin the victor; Jūzō the loser—sent flying faster than he'd charged.
His body went like a cannonball—snapping trees behind—blood spraying high.
Fuguki: "!!"
Mangetsu: "!!!"
Raiga: "!!!!"
Uchiha Yorin: "So—old and new—no need to be so courteous. Come together. Entertain me."
"Arrogant!"
"Insufferable!!"
"Uchiha lunatic!!"
At his words, three moved as one.
They called him arrogant—but no one dared solo again. Just as he'd said—together.
Samehada and Kiba slashed from different angles; Mangetsu left a water clone and vaulted back—then rejoined—
But with a different blade—Nuibari.
Not for nothing—a Kiri prodigy. In a blink he found a line: deploy Nuibari's steel wires—limit Yorin's godlike mobility.
Those fine, sharp, iron-strong filaments would web and bind Uchiha Yorin.
Then they could win. As to why he could wield Nuibari beyond Hiramekarei—because he was a genius. The Hōzuki led the Seven Swordsmen; the group was the brainchild of the Second Mizukage Gengetsu Hōzuki. He, Mangetsu—the prodigy—wouldn't crumble here.
His comrades understood and synced.
Raiga howled—raised Kiba, drew lightning down, and slashed to trade blows:
"My Kiba are the fastest—wrapped in thunder! Don't you dare underestimate me!!"
He roared, blade to blade with Yorin.
Yorin: "Fast, yes. Not fast—or hard—enough."
Hearing that—and seeing Yorin still unruffled—Raiga knew: he was lost.
He clenched his teeth, stepped in—to drag Uchiha Yorin to the grave—
"Die with me!! Lightning Release: Lightning Burial!!!!"
A gigantic bolt smote down—even Yorin felt a twinge of threat—then his lightning blade swept up and split the stroke in two!
Chidori?
No—
Raikiri.
Raiga: "?!?!"
He stared—mind blank. He couldn't imagine a human splitting lightning. Before he recovered, Yorin struck again.
Uchiha-ryū · Pommel Strike.
"Danger!"
The warning was too late—Raiga dropped without a sound.
At the same time—fog roiled across the field.
Hidden Mist—Kiri's favorite.
In the whiteout only "shra-shra" of wires sang—
Mangetsu hurled Nuibari—in moments a web of razor wire crisscrossed the field.
"Is—will this work?"
In one exchange, four fell to two. Elite jōnin Raiga and Jūzō hadn't seen a second round.
Fuguki was already broken.
He'd once thought the scariest thing in the world was a green goblin. Now—Uchiha Yorin was ten billion goblins.
"!!"
Mangetsu didn't answer him. Teeth clenched, he kept moving, kept sewing the air with Nuibari.
In his hands the odd blade sang—no less than its first wielder, Kuriarare Kushimaru.
Will it work?
Of course not.
Even without Susanoo—Lightning Armor let Yorin ignore Mangetsu's wires.
He walked through traps as if they weren't there—straight for the fleeing Fuguki.
"Y-you—stop!" The man screamed—hardened hair firing like a quiver.
Ninjutsu: Hair Needle Senbon!
Useless. They couldn't scratch him.
"There are many kinds of swordsmen. You—are the worst kind."
He told the fat coward.
If he'd stood and dared it out, Yorin might have respected him. But he didn't even have that.
As Yorin said—Fuguki was finished. In the original, he fell so low he became a two-faced, treacherous clown. Even his blade Samehada scorned him—refused to join him.
"Don't—don't come any closer!!!"
He broke and ran—didn't get far.
A soft thud—Fuguki fell, a red line widening across his throat. Yorin ended his sad life.
"Go—go!"
Jūzō staggered up—threw himself between them—shouted to Mangetsu: "Y-you're the future—I'll cover—"
The next breath, Yorin was behind him like a ghost.
Under the Sharingan, "Hidden Mist" means nothing.
Uchiha-ryū · Pommel Strike.
Jūzō dropped without a sound.
"So touching," Yorin told Mangetsu. "That's the feeling of comrades, hm? Heh-heh-heh-heh… Pity it's useless."
"AAAHHH!!!"
Watching friends fall one by one, Mangetsu's cocky smile vanished.
"Flame Claw!! I'm taking you with me!!!"
He charged—no clone, no substitution—body on the line. His blade swapped to the best for face-tanking—Kabutowari—more hammer than sword. Having seen Yorin's defense, he chose the strongest armor-breaker—to die together if need be.
At the edge—Mangetsu surpassed himself—Hydrification's Hard Water Arm swelled his limbs—boosting strength and speed to insane levels. Even a Kage could fall to this.
Yorin: "Good."
The next beat—Yorin redlined his systems—
Body Flicker · Uchiha-ryū · Thunder–Fire Sword Dance · Sky-Splitter—
He recognized Mangetsu's talent and resolve—he would answer with his best.
In an instant—Sharingan's dynamic vision, plus body genius and control—he struck forty-nine times—perfectly hitting Mangetsu's vitals.
Next breath—
Both halted—turned—met eyes.
"What was that?" Mangetsu asked.
"Sky-Splitter," Yorin replied. "My ace in the hole."
"Good name. Good technique. I admit it—you're stronger—possibly the world's greatest swordsman." Mangetsu smiled—satisfied.
"To die under that—I… have no regrets…"
He closed his eyes and fell—still.
Thus—
Kiri's great marquee—the Seven Swordsmen—annihilated.
Uchiha Yorin—flawless victory.
Elapsed time—less than three minutes.