Gin had already returned his sword to its sheath, his hand hovering just above the hilt, his body lowering into a stance.
Ichirō, charging toward him, recognized Gin's posture.
It was the stance for Iai Slash.
In the Land of Iron, Iai Slash was the strongest technique. How dare this boy attempt it!
To show off in front of masters.
The two were about to collide.
"First Form: Dark Moon! Twilight Palace!"
Gin's sword flashed out of its sheath, a blindingly fast strike that summoned countless crescent-shaped moon blades along the trajectory.
"Sword Art: Gale Slash!"
Ichirō's sword, infused with violent wind, sliced down toward Gin, forming wind blades that appeared to be a single strike but were actually countless slashes.
Ichirō was confident that no one could withstand this blow, even as he saw Gin's more dazzling attack.
But in the next moment—
The moon blades shattered the whirlwind.
Gin's Kusanagi sword sliced through Ichirō's blade.
"What?! How is this possible?!" Ichirō's eyes widened in shock. He had believed Gin's technique to be crude, yet his own sword had been destroyed in the clash.
But Gin's attack didn't end there.
Ichirō, on the verge of being cleaved in half by Gin's blade, was frozen in place.
Time seemed to stop.
Clang!
The sound of metal clashing resounded, followed by a gust of wind that swept away the dust on the platform.
This was a clash of powerful swordsmen.
A figure had appeared between them without anyone realizing it.
A man in full samurai armor, his sword half-drawn, had intercepted Gin's strike.
"It's General Mifune!" Ichirō cried out in joy, recognizing his savior.
Without Mifune's timely intervention, he would be dead.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
"Mifune-sama!!"
This was the strongest warrior in the Land of Iron.
General Mifune.
Ignoring the crowd, Mifune turned to Gin and sternly asked, "Don't you think your methods were a bit too harsh?"
Gin sheathed his sword and stepped back.
Without answering Mifune, he stared at him in disbelief and asked, "Where did you come from?"
His gaze darted toward the audience.
Were they about to witness the appearance of the Sage of Six Paths?
How could someone this powerful just show up unnoticed?
"I overheard that you were dissatisfied with the Land of Iron, so I rushed here from the daimyo's palace."
Mifune had been alerted to a skilled young swordsman causing a stir in the Land of Iron, which is why he had hurried to the scene.
To Mifune's surprise, the boy in front of him looked relieved upon hearing his explanation.
Gin patted his chest, grateful that Mifune hadn't come from the audience.
Otherwise, he really would've feared the next opponent being the Sage of Six Paths.
Looking at the man before him, Gin thought, So this is Mifune, the man who would cut down part of the Divine Tree during the Fourth Great Ninja War?
Mifune patiently awaited Gin's response.
Had he not arrived in time, the Land of Iron would have lost a Grand Swordmaster—an individual on par with a high-ranking jōnin.
The loss would have been unacceptable.
Gin replied, "Isn't this what you wanted? The first match was just a friendly spar, so I held back. But the next two tried to kill me. Am I not allowed to defend myself?"
Mifune remained silent for a moment before responding, "It was you who provoked the Land of Iron."
"And because of that, you think it's okay for them to kill me? Should I not even have the right to fight back?"
Gin's rebuttal struck a chord.
In the shinobi world, killing over a verbal provocation wasn't uncommon.
In the Land of Iron, where honor outweighed life itself, killing someone who insulted the country was seen as justified.
Gin's argument was a bit over the top, but he wasn't known for adhering to moral high ground, so no one could criticize him from that perspective.
"Please retract your earlier statement, and we can consider this matter resolved," Mifune suggested.
He didn't want unnecessary conflicts with foreign shinobi during the ongoing war. Under his advice, the daimyo had declared the Land of Iron to be permanently neutral.
He didn't want the Land of Iron to become entangled in the war.
Just look at the Land of Rain.
Even the once-mighty Hanzō, nearly unstoppable in the past, had been reduced to a mere footnote. The devastation of the Land of Rain served as a grim reminder.
"General!!"
"Why?!"
"You can't just let him go!!"
The crowd was displeased with Mifune's decision, but he had little choice. Avoiding war was more important.
"And what if I don't retract my words?" Gin wasn't backing down. He hadn't had enough of this battle yet.
Opportunities for open, straightforward fights were rare. When fighting shinobi, especially jōnin, there was always the need to confirm if the enemy was a clone or a substitution.
Even a samurai with jōnin-level skills wouldn't fare well against a chūnin shinobi—not because they were weak, but because they lacked the cunning of shinobi.
"Judging by their reaction, they aren't satisfied either."
Gin sheathed his sword again but kept his hand on the hilt.
"It seems you're determined to see this through to the end," Mifune observed, sensing Gin's desire for battle.
While he didn't fully understand why, the situation had escalated to a point where refusing a fight would be wrong.
"Then I have no choice but to engage you in battle."
Mifune lowered his stance, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword.
It was the stance for Iai Slash.
Gin mirrored the stance, preparing for their duel.
The two stared at each other, neither blinking.
For swordsmen, the fight could be decided in an instant.
In the next moment, both moved simultaneously.
Their speed was blinding.
They reappeared at each other's starting positions.
Mifune slowly sheathed his sword.
"Sword Art: Iai Slash!"
This technique, which he had spent over thirty years perfecting, had only failed once—against Hanzō.
With a click, Mifune's sword was fully sheathed.
Behind him, Gin's chest suddenly split open, revealing his bare skin.
Mifune's strike had only torn Gin's clothes.
Gin also began to sheath his sword.
"The swords of the Land of Iron aren't bad."
Click.
Mifune's chest armor shattered, revealing a shallow cut on his skin, only piercing the surface.
Gin had held back, so Mifune had done the same.
Though Gin had misjudged his strength slightly.
"I lost," Mifune admitted, not feeling discouraged but rather accepting the outcome.
"No, it's you who won."
Gin tied up his clothes, now resembling a beggar.
Mifune shook his head, refusing to acknowledge the victory. Gin had held back and hadn't even used ninjutsu.
In the brief exchange, Mifune had realized that Gin's swordsmanship wasn't particularly refined—his techniques were raw.
It was only Gin's superior physical strength, speed, and refined Iai Slash that had given him the edge.
While Mifune had won in terms of technique, their overall abilities were evenly matched.
Had Gin used ninjutsu, Mifune might not have won at all.
"If you're willing, would you join me for tea at my humble abode?" Mifune hesitated briefly before extending the invitation.
(End of Chapter)