"Elder Chiyo, stop your attack."
Watching Chiyo's Puppet Art achieve absolutely nothing, Rasa sighed inwardly, though he still forced the words out.
"Ah…"
Even if Rasa hadn't spoken, Chiyo had no choice but to give up continuing the technique.
After all, Puppet Art consumed chakra. Even in her prime, there was no way she could maintain it for long.
"Why'd you suddenly stop? I was just starting to enjoy myself."
As the three puppets withdrew, Garp patted the dust from his sleeve, sounding rather displeased.
"That monster Iron Fist… his body is even freakishly tougher than those muscle brained brutes from Kumogakure."
Seeing that even after the combined assault of her three puppets, Garp's clothes didn't even have a single wrinkle, Chiyo felt an emotion she had never tasted before in her long life, defeat.
"Can Sunagakure really overcome this mountain that suppressed an entire era?"
Ebizo also felt a sinking sense of despair.
Wind Release…
Puppet Technique…
Magnet Release…
The three greatest jutsu Sunagakure was proud of, none of them could leave a mark on Garp.
He was a mountain that could not be crossed, whose peak could not even be seen, an immovable summit that had reigned over the Warring States Period, and now sought to press down on the age of shinobi villages as well.
"I won't accept this."
Sensing the emotional collapse in the two elders beside him, Rasa felt both anger and helplessness.
The tangled feelings stabbed into his heart like blade after blade, shredding the bold words he had just proclaimed before all of Sunagakure's shinobi.
"As the Kazekage, I must lead Sunagakure out of the desert."
Refusing to bow, Rasa spread his arms wide, pulling up a vast cloud of gold dust from the desert floor, forming a sky covering, light-swallowing mass high above:
"Magnet Release: Gold Dust Imperial Funeral."
With a furious shout, the golden dust cloud hovering over the battlefield suddenly rained down a storm of golden blades.
A downpour of countless spear-like gold dust projectiles.
Garp looked up at the shimmering golden cloud without moving an inch.
Yet from his body emanated a pressure as solid and unshakable as the very land of the shinobi world.
The gold-dust blades, dense as rain and violent as a hurricane, stabbed down madly.
All they produced were showers of sparks on impact with Garp's body, accompanied by an ear-splitting clash of metal on metal, followed by the broken remains of each blade shattering against him and crumbling to the ground.
When Rasa had finally exhausted the entire cloud of gold dust, he glanced at the carpet of broken golden shards… then at Garp, whose skin wasn't even grazed.
His body swayed violently, and under the shocked, disbelieving stares of countless Sand shinobi, he collapsed onto the ground.
Just one minute ago,
The newly risen Fourth Kazekage was full of spirit, so bold that he dared demand Iron Fist to step aside before all of Sunagakure.
But one minute later.
The courage in Rasa's chest had evaporated like the golden cloud in the sky. Just like that storm of golden spears, it was completely spent.
The Kazekage now had none of his earlier vigor, none of his lofty pride. His ambition and aspirations flickered like a candle in the wind, barely clinging to life.
"..."
Seeing Rasa's spirit crumble, Chiyo and Ebizo fell silent.
For the first time, they felt neither displeasure nor shame toward their Kazekage, because their own feelings mirrored his perfectly.
Powerless… defeated… regretful… all these emotions swallowed them like a bottomless black abyss.
"You're done playing, and I'm done too. Let's end it here.
This Third Shinobi World War, this little game your village started, should take its final bow."
What crushed them even further was Garp sweeping a bit of gold dust off his clothes, wiping away his teasing smile, and speaking words that stabbed straight into their hearts.
"Since you three gave me a decent massage… I'll ask one last time, are you going to crawl back to the Land of Wind, or go meet your First Kazekage?"
Garp twisted his neck lightly, producing crackles like roasting chestnuts.
"Massage…"
"The Third Shinobi World War… a game…"
"Lord Reto… was this what you felt, being driven into the Land of Wind?"
Chiyo and Ebizo sighed inwardly. Whatever courage and fighting spirit Rasa had stirred in them earlier was completely gone.
"I will never bow down in my life."
Just as the two elders were ready to bow their heads, Rasa suddenly lifted his face, eyes wild, slamming his palms onto the ground.
"Magnet Release: Gold Dust Spear."
"No."
Seeing this, Chiyo and Ebizo blanched.
It had already come to this, would admitting defeat be so terrible?
But Rasa, consumed by madness, ignored their warnings entirely.
He manipulated the gold dust again, forming hundreds of drill-like golden spears, spinning at high speed before shooting toward Garp like a golden tempest.
Faced with the incoming torrent of spiraling gold-dust spears, Garp didn't say a word. He simply lifted his right hand at an unhurried pace.
One after another, streaks of red-black lightning wrapped around his fist like coiling dragons.
The next moment.
As each bolt sank into his fist, his five fingers, and his entire hand, rang with a sharp sound.
His fist turned pitch black with arcs of red lightning, like it had been forged from metal, becoming a fearsome Iron Fist that radiated pure intimidation.
"Garp's Fist…"
"So that's the legendary Iron Fist.?"
All color drained from Chiyo and Ebizo's faces.
A forgotten secret, sealed away since the end of the Warring States Period, resurfaced sharply in their minds.
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