A handful of samurai stormed into the office, their armor clinking as they moved. Inoiki took a moment to observe their attire—standard-issue armor covering their torsos, but leaving their legs exposed. Convenient, he mused. He had no interest in a senseless massacre; incapacitating them would be enough.
(A/N: In the previous chapter, I made a silly mistake by having Inoiki express surprise at the ninjas wielding chakra swords—something he shouldn't have had in the first place. After all, the samurai of the Iron Country are the ones who possess chakra swords, which is the entire reason he traveled there to obtain the materials. I apologize for this oversight.)
Without hesitation, he controlled ten of the chakra blades he had previously seized. In a blur, the weapons shot forward, too fast for the samurai to react. The sharp edges slashed cleanly through their ankles and lower legs, sending them collapsing to the floor, groaning in pain. He hadn't aimed to kill—if they bled out, that was another matter entirely. But these weren't ordinary men; they wielded chakra. If they were strong enough to fight, they should be strong enough to survive until treatment arrived.
With that taken care of, Inoiki closed his eyes briefly, activating Observation Haki. His senses expanded outward, scanning the entire town. Immediately, he detected a massive force of ninjas and samurai converging on the mansion at an alarming speed.
He exhaled slowly.
They're gathering faster than I expected. No matter—I'll be done here soon.
Inoiki focused his Psychokinesis into his fist, his muscles tensing with raw energy. With a single, devastating punch, he shattered the ceiling above him, propelling himself through the floors of the mansion until he reached the rooftop. The moment his feet landed, he lifted off, floating effortlessly into the sky.
From above, the scene below unfolded like a swarm of ants surging toward the mansion—hundreds of ninjas and samurai racing in his direction. Using Observation Haki, Inoiki quickly assessed their numbers. One thousand. Just as Kenta had reported.
The approaching warriors also caught sight of him—floating midair, his presence undeniable. A ring of short swords and blades hovered around him in a slow, menacing orbit, controlled effortlessly by his Psychokinesis.
Then, with a mere thought, lightning crackled to life, coating each blade in a shimmering aura of electric fury.
In an instant, the swords shot forward, streaking through the ranks of the advancing army like bolts of living lightning. Screams filled the air as blades sliced through arms and legs, disabling fighters in precise, non-fatal strikes. However, the sheer intensity of the attack made the battlefield gruesome. Severed limbs crackled with residual electricity, flesh scorched where the swords had cut.
Though the injuries were intended to incapacitate rather than kill, Inoiki knew the truth—without immediate treatment, many of them wouldn't survive.
But that wasn't his concern.
Not anymore.
Inoiki had already done enough. He couldn't control everything, nor did he care to. If they died, they died—it wasn't his concern. Consequences didn't weigh on his mind.
The battlefield was a mess of screams and scorched flesh. Many of the ninjas and samurai stared in horror, their morale crumbling as they watched their comrades fall. Some wavered, their instincts screaming at them to retreat, but none dared to move. They hadn't been given the order, and disobedience meant punishment—perhaps even execution—at the hands of their leader, Black Scorpio.
So, despite their terror, they pressed forward.
Not that it mattered.
They hadn't even reached the mansion yet—hadn't even come close to Inoiki—and already, he had cut them down. He remained where he was, high above, dealing with them as if swatting away insects, without so much as moving from his position.
Tsubasa watched from a distance, his expression unreadable. He saw the hopelessness of his men, the futility of their struggle. Yet he gave no order to stop.
Because he knew.
There was no turning back now. Any chance for reconciliation with Inoiki was long gone.
And besides—he had another plan.
He would let Inoiki exhaust himself, let him burn through his chakra.
Then, when the moment was right…
He would strike.
Tsubasa's plan was nothing more than a pipe dream.
Perhaps, if this were the Inoiki of two and a half years ago, it might have worked. Back then, draining his chakra through sheer numbers could have been a viable strategy.
But now?
Now, it was impossible.
Even if Inoiki had to go all out—if he had to slaughter every single one of these thousand warriors with his full power—he would still have half of his chakra left. And for someone like him, half was more than enough.
So the battle raged on.
For nearly an hour, the cycle of carnage continued. One by one, Tsubasa's army fell. Some tried to fight, others to flee, but it made no difference. The streets of Tetsuyuki Town became a battlefield, littered with broken bodies. Blood seeped into the cracks of the roads, dripped from rooftops, and pooled in the gutters. The once-pristine town was now painted red.
By the time it was over, Tsubasa's entire army—his thousand-strong force—was gone.
Their bodies lay scattered in the streets, on rooftops, draped over walls, and piled against the gates of the town head's mansion.
The scene was nothing short of gruesome.
And at the center of it all, unscathed, floated Inoiki.
...
(A/N: If you like the story please vote power stones.)
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