Neji became relentless and pressed his advantage. With excellent speed, he darted forward, unleashing a rapid sequence of taijutsu blows, leaving Shira staggered as he barely managed to parry the strikes.
Both fighters showcased their tenacity, treating the onlookers to a spectacle. Even if Lee and Naruto had impressed them earlier, this match was something else altogether.
Shira was far from yielding. He absorbed multiple hits from Neji while managing to return a few counters of his own. But things were clear: if only he could activate the Eight Gates, he believed the fight would have ended long ago. Neji was relentless, exploiting any moment of hesitation from Shira and not giving him a moment to breathe.
"You're not half bad," Shira admitted, sweat glistening on his brow.
"And you're pretty strong," Neji replied evenly.
At that moment, Shira advanced to the side and utilized a barrage of rapid strikes aimed at overwhelming Neji. But Neji, having anticipated this tactic, employed a series of flips and evasive maneuvers, seamlessly avoiding the attacks.
The crowd roared as Neji countered with a swift and powerful kick, aiming for Shira's midsection. The blow landed with a solid thud, but it wasn't enough to stagger the Sand shinobi back.
Then something shifted. Neji adopted a different stance, a barely perceptible change that Shira noticed but didn't fully comprehend.
All the players recognized that stance immediately; it was a technique used only once.
Neji felt oddly serene in that brief moment, as if time slowed down around him; his body was attuned to the rhythm of the fight. He squinted at Shira and said with a voice that resonated through the arena, "Eight Trigrams: 128 Palms!"
In an instant, Neji's hands blurred in motion as he assaulted Shira head-on. The first two strikes came, targeting Shira's hands; they were expertly blocked. Sensing his opponent's movements, Neji quickly pivoted to Shira's side, landing four swift strikes along his opponent's ribs.
Before Shira could fully react, Neji launched himself again, slipping into his blind spot to deliver eight more precise hits, aiming for the crucial tenketsu points.
The pattern continued; each combination of strikes left Shira reeling, struggling to keep up with the relentless assault. Each twin of strikes sent waves of excitement through the audience; they were witnessing a dazzling display of combat perfection that they had never witnessed.
Every time Shira raised his defenses, Neji found a new angle or exploited a gap, his attacks tearing through Shira's positioning with perfect timing. The attacks were like a built-in crescendo, leading to the final explosive notes of his technique.
As he completed the onslaught, landing the last of the one hundred twenty eight strikes with an impeccable finish, the crowd erupted.
Shira, having endured the onslaught, finally succumbed. His body suddenly dropped to the floor, the hard-fought battle finally taking its toll.
Breathing heavily, Neji stepped back. The adrenaline continued pumping through him as he surveyed his opponent.
"You are undoubtedly one of the strongest opponents I have had the pleasure of facing," he admitted, acknowledging Shira as a worthy shinobi.
The announcer's voice boomed over the arena, causing the excitement of the crowd to reach a fever pitch: "And the winner, by knockout, is Neji Hyūga!" Applause rose in admiration and support towards Neji as he respectfully bowed to the audience.
He stood humbled, feeling the weight of victory. He then glanced briefly at near the bottom, spotting his group cheering for him: Naruto, Jada, Margaret, Iruka, and Lee, their enthusiastic expressions igniting a sense of camaraderie that made the competition all the more worthwhile.
But amid the celebration, a familiar hazy thought occupied his mind—if there were truly stronger fighters out there, what would his next challenge be?
Just as that notion began to settle, he focused back on Shira, who was attempting to rise to his feet, determination alight in his eyes.
"Allow me to help you up," Neji called out, stepping toward him.
Shira, with a smile, waved a hand dismissively and said, "No need. I can stand on my own."
When he finally gained his footing, only slightly unsteady, Neji couldn't help but be impressed.
"You managed to regain your balance after that?" he said, shockingly.
How could those watching not be stunned? The Eight Trigrams One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms technique was devastating enough that it could effectively neutralize an opponent's chakra and render them immobile.
Although Neji hadn't hit all of Shira's tenketsu points, he had surely disrupted the flow of his chakra to leave him unable to use any taijutsu. And because of the technique's speed and precision, it wasn't something that easily could be withstood.
Despite the intensity of the match, Shira's resilience was undeniable. A newfound respect for him was given after seeing him stand.
"Even though I'm back on my feet," he said, brushing himself off, "the victory is still yours, Neji." He looked the Hyūga squarely in the eyes. "Truthfully, I'm surprised myself that I'm even standing."
Neji nodded, appreciating the words. This mutual respect was only something that could be forged between two strong fighters.
"You fought honourably, Shira. Your strength is impressive; you'll only continue to grow from here."
As the two shinobis shook hands, there was a sense of finality to the motion—an unspoken agreement of sorts. The crowd let out another wave of applause due to their sportsmanship.
Then, after exchanging quick but meaningful glances, they returned to their respective corners.
Shira's colleagues gathered around him, offering words of encouragement and apologies for his defeat.
"I'm alright," he reassured them. "Coming here was worth it. It only shows how much more I need to train."
His fellow fighters nodded in agreement and said, "We're glad to have you back on your feet, but we really hope you're not planning to leave just yet. We'd love to see more of this tournament!"
"I'm sticking around," Shira declared, "I want to see how the others fight, too; I'm sure I can learn a lot watching the rest of the matches."
With the Sand ninjas firmly in the mix, the group left their designated area to find seats in the stands. Shira might have lost, but they knew that he never came here for any prize or glory; he came to test his skills and to prove himself—a mindset most ninjas his age didn't have.
The announcer projected his voice once again, directing everyone's attention to the giant monitor, and said, "Next up, we have a match between Kasuga Nara and Santa Yamanaka!"
As the names were heard, the audience became restless. The last three matches really had their blood boiling. But the Nara and Yamanaka clan members in attendance were shocked.
"Wait," one said, "you mean we were matched up with those from our group?"
The announcer swiftly clarified, saying, "The matches were selected randomly. Yes, there's a chance they might fight one another!"
Despite the tension of competing against their own friends, Kasuga and Santa looked at each other resolutely. They shared a glance of understanding, and their clanmates agreed that they should give it their all regardless of their alliance.
They stepped forward, undeterred by the matchup.
"Let's do this," Kasuga said firmly.
"Right!" Santa replied with an equal sense of enthusiasm.
The two fighters took their stances, and as the match began, the fighters dove into their tactics. However, as the match unfolded, it quickly became clear to the spectators that it wasn't as exciting.
Their combat focused primarily on a series of parries and strikes that lacked the flair and depth that characterized previous fights. While it wasn't unimpressive to watch since they were ninjas, it simply wasn't as flamboyant or enthralling.
"Not that I'm not enjoying this, but it's—" a spectator began before trailing off, shaking his head.
"Boring," another voice chimed in. "It's too tame compared to the last matches."
"Well, it's to be expected," the spectator finished.
Though the crowd cheered, their excitement was a fraction of what it had been just moments before.
As the two fighters exchanged blows, Santa occasionally landed solid hits on Kasuga, who was working hard to keep up. The flow of the fight felt labourious and lackluster compared to the earlier matchups.
Meanwhile, not far from the action, Naruto overheard a couple of spectators discussing the fights.
"I hope not all of them are like this. I want to see that blond kid fight again!" one commented.
Naruto's grin took an edge of mischief; he relished the attention. But before he could bask in the moment, Jada nudged him and said, "Keep your eyes on the prize, Naruto. The winner of this match could be your next opponent."
"You're right," he laughed heartily, not letting the pressure get to him. In truth, Naruto was itching to fight just about everyone in the tournament. He had that much confidence that he could win.
Arthur, however, remained unaffected by their camaraderie. There was a sense of unease simmering just beneath the surface of his thoughts. He wasn't moved by their display of friendship; his focus rested on not just the fighters in the arena but everyone's gazes.
"I'm thinking of going to the bathroom," the Raikage said out loud.
"Are you that bored?" Mei wondered.
"They had their time to impress me…"
As the fight continued, Arthur had already deduced who would win.
Santa was actually a Chūnin right now, while Kasuga had yet to achieve the same rank. The gap in their experience was tangible, and even though Kasuga fought valiantly, he was limited by the current capabilities of a Genin. The crowd's muted reactions only reinforced this notion—there was a reason for that gap in confidence.
The minutes ticked by, and the conclusion of the match drew closer. Kasuga, to his credit, was holding his own, but no amount of rapid learning could fully bridge that divide.
Arthur recalled why he had allowed them into this tournament in the first place. The Leaf Village shinobi held potential, certainly, but he believed they needed to gather more métier before they could truly pose a threat. That's why they were selected—so he could assess their village's strength.
A group able to harness their abilities together would garner his respect, but alone they were still a considerable while away.
The match concluded, and Santa declared the victor through sheer accumulation of experience. He raised his arm in triumph as the crowd clapped.
"Good fight!" Kasuga said with an amiable smile on his face. Despite the loss, he embraced the sport of fighting, acknowledging Santa's skills with gratitude.
"Thanks! You did well too," Santa replied, returning the gesture. Respect passed between the two as they left the arena, once again proving their collaboration irrespective of their clans' allegiance.
The crowd settled, and the announcer's voice boomed through the arena. The monitor then generated the next set of fighters: Samui vs. Margaret Senju.
Margaret's heart raced at the sound of her name. She couldn't believe it—she thought she was going to have to wait awhile before seeing her name. She bounced on her heels, pumping herself up with a fierce grin brightening her face.
Iruka, however, looked concerned. So he asked, "Marge, are you sure it was a good idea for you to come here?"
"Why's that, Iruka-sensei?"
"I mean, don't you feel all the stares?" he wondered.
Truth be told, a lot of spectators were indeed eying her as she stretched. Not out of lasciviousness but out of greed.
Margaret's character was a Senju. One of her negative traits was that if her surname got out, she would be targeted for her cells.
"Oh, I'm not worried about them," she commented, focusing on her match.
"Iruka-sensei, if I may," Jada asked. "Marge is actually used to her name being out there. Remember that report that followed after we saved you, Naruto?"
"You mean from that Arthur guy?!" he addressed. "Yeah, I'd love to see him rise from the grave so I can beat him back down!"
The group smiled at his infectious behaviour.
"Marge's name was released to the public because of that," Jada continued. "Since then, she's been training hard, ready for attackers."
"Yep, and I'm not remotely worried," Margaret added.