"So it turns out the First Mizukage never left his power to the Seven Ninja Swordsmen at all.
He destroyed the Eight Gates inside their bodies to release even more chakra, just to resurrect himself."
"What a cruel forbidden jutsu… what a vicious Mizukage."
"The Seven Swordsmen are the most elite ninja in all of Kirigakure! To think the First Mizukage actually treated them like this…"
"No wonder Lord Garp said the First Mizukage was the cruelest, coldest, and most insidious ninja in the history of Kirigakure."
Even Orochimaru, who had always been obsessed with forbidden techniques and fascinated by the mysteries of the human body, twitched at Duy's words.
The other Konoha shinobi were even more horrified.
A Kage who didn't think about protecting his village, but instead used such brutal, poisonous methods to scheme against his own people…
The very thought made the Ino–Shika–Cho trio shiver.
If the Hokage of Konoha were like this… they didn't dare imagine any further.
After all, the Hokage might not be this bad, but the one "protecting" Konhoha from darkness certainly was like this.
"Damn it!"
"How could he do something like this!"
"Did he forget he's the Mizukage of Kirigakure!?"
If the Konoha trio felt more like they were grieving for a fallen friend, then Yagura and the other Mist shinobi felt it as a knife stabbing directly into their own hearts.
Even though the ones sacrificed were Juzo and the others, not them.
The Seven Ninja Swordsmen had always been the dream every Mist shinobi aspired to, something worth dedicating their lives to.
But now, the First Mizukage, had just taught every Mist ninja present a brutal lesson.
The so-called Seven Ninja Swordsmen, the elite seven of Kirigakure, the dream that countless villagers longed for… had been nothing more than batteries for Byakuren's resurrection.
How could Yagura and the others possibly accept that?
"Shut up! What would you fools understand?
If I don't defeat Garp, every last person in Kirigakure will spend their entire lives trapped here, consumed by mist until the end of time.
Everything I've done is for Kirigakure, for the Land of Water!
Those seven should feel honored, proud, to contribute to my return and to the future of the village!
Without me, how would you Mist ninja survive in the shinobi world? If not for me, how would you ever possess one of the Five Great Shinobi Villages? How would you rule one of the Five Great Nations?"
Facing the indignant, outraged accusations from dozens of Mist shinobi, Byakuren merely sneered in contempt.
He had never once believed he was doing anything wrong.
As a Kage of the Warring States era, did anyone truly think they were paragons of virtue?
Even the First Hokage, famed as a man of benevolence and righteousness, had the blood of countless children and even infants on his hands.
So what of the First Mizukage who created the Village of the Bloody Mist?
As long as he could be resurrected and drag Garp with him into the Pure Land, not to mention just seven Swordsmen.
Even if a thousand Mist shinobi died on the battlefield, even if every ninja in Kirigakure had to die, he wouldn't so much as frown.
"So this is what a Kage from the past era is really like…"
"No wonder he founded the Bloody Mist…."
"So the root of the Bloody Mist… was him."
Byakuren's righteous arrogance, his absolute disregard for the lives of his own people, shook every shinobi to the core.
For this era, the First-generation Kage were distant legends.
Whether from Konoha or Kirigakure, people only knew of them from stories passed around the ninja world… and from academy textbooks.
To see a First-gen Kage up close, to understand him, to perceive him directly, this was a first for everyone.
And this first experience completely overturned every concept they'd had about the founders of the ninja villages.
"This era truly is amusing. No wonder after all these years Kirigakure has remained weak and cornered. The little shinobi of this age are as innocent as pampered greenhouse flowers."
Byakuren shook his head, his tone dripping with disdain toward the Mist ninja's softness, their lack of cruelty, their lack of cold-blooded cunning.
"You make it sound like if you were still around, the Mist wouldn't have to suffer anymore. These kids are doing fine, they at least still have a chance to keep breathing.
Unlike you. This time, you're headed to the Pure Land… where you can 'eat dirt' instead."
Garp let out a faint, mocking laugh.
"How arrogant, Garp. Do you think I'm still that same Byakuren you once drove into the Land of Water?"
At Garp's words, Byakuren's expression twisted into something demonic.
A surge of chakra, cold and violent like a frozen tempest, exploded outward and engulfed the battlefield.
After his resurrection, the pressure he radiated was several times stronger than before.
"Forgive these old eyes of mine, but past or present, you look exactly the same to me.
Still that same mutt who can only tuck his tail and flee for his life. Bwahaha…."
Against Byakuren's oppressive chakra, Garp stood unmoving, like a towering mountain standing firm in a storm of thunder and rain.
"Hmph! This time I'm far stronger than I was back then.
And you, do you really think someone nearly a hundred years old can still hold onto even a sliver of his peak strength?"
Byakuren roared, slamming his right foot into the ground.
The earth split open beneath him, cracking into countless fissures stretching nearly a hundred meters.
And in the instant the debris rose…
He vanished.
His speed surged to the point that even a Mangekyo Sharingan would struggle to follow, and in a blur he appeared before Garp, his fist shooting forward in a direct strike.
.........
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