A Zanpakutō is forged from the very soul of a Shinigami. By learning its na and communing with it on a spiritual level, the Shinigami draws out its true power.
The Zanpakutō in Hakken’s hand, however, was different. It had originally co from the beginner’s gift pack of the King of Normal Attacks System.
Over ti, through countless swings, an indescribable bond had ford between Hakken and the blade itself.
After unlocking the second Template, the surge of primal power and increase in spiritual pressure had completely transford what was once an ordinary Zanpakutō.
Its release seed only a step away.
Yet Hakken was certain of one thing—this blade recognized only him as its master.
Because of their connection, he could control it even from a distance, storing it in his system inventory whenever he wished. In the entire ninja world, only he could wield this blade.
But anyone who thought his strength ca solely from the Zanpakutō couldn’t be more wrong.
Power never lies in the weapon—it lies in the one who wields it.
Even with a different weapon, his strength wouldn’t change much.
After all, Hakken’s true Shikai had yet to co.
Of course, all of this about the Zanpakutō was known only to Hakken himself.
What he didn’t expect was that soone would actually set their sights on his weapon.
Pfft!
As the last masked ninja collapsed, Hakken planted a foot on the man’s chest and casually kicked the mask aside.
The face beneath was unremarkable, twisted in the unmistakable terror of death.
This was true death—his soul completely destroyed, beyond even the reach of Impure World Reincarnation.
“I thought you’d leave one alive,” Kakashi said as he walked up beside Hakken, a trace of confusion in his voice. “At least to find out where these people ca from.”
He was genuinely puzzled.
They weren’t far from Konoha. Either word of their departure had leaked, or the enemy had been lying in ambush waiting for them.
But neither explanation made much sense.
“Tch. Do I really need to ask?”
Hakken shook his head, his gaze shifting toward the distant trees. “Co out. Let’s talk.”
More enemies?
Kakashi and Itachi instantly tensed, drawing their shuriken and readying for battle.
But when the figure stepped out from the forest, Itachi’s eyes widened, his gaze fixed in disbelief.
Even with the mask, the man’s height and that unmistakable curly hair gave him away.
“Shisui-niisan… why is it you?”
Shisui Uchiha!
Masked or not, his presence was unmistakable.
Shisui removed the mask wearily, his face shadowed with pain and deep confusion.
“For the village,” he said, his tone heavy as if repeating words that weren’t his own. “Take the blade from his hands.”
“That kind of weapon can only reach its true potential in the village’s possession.”
“Even if a few people must die, it’s worth it.”
Those were the aningful words of Danzō-sama before they set out.
For the village, take the blade from his hands?
Even if a few lives must be sacrificed—it’s worth it?
But they were his friends!
How could he ever raise his hand against his comrades? That was sothing Shisui could never do.
All along the way, he had been desperate to find a way to warn Hakken and Itachi, ready to step in and help them escape if things went wrong.
If he hadn’t been kept under watch all night at the Root headquarters, never given a chance to slip away, he would have warned them long ago.
Yet in the end, his worries had been pointless.
Hakken’s strength was overwhelming. An elite Root squad couldn’t even co close to matching him.
His slashing aura—like a black crescent moon—carried terrifying destructive power...
He had practically wiped out the entire Root squad single-handedly.
“Shisui, why are you here?”
Still unwilling to believe it, Itachi asked a question he himself found foolish.
Shisui, wearing the sa kind of mask as the attackers, was clearly one of them. And since Shisui was a mber of Konoha’s Root division, that could only an this entire assault had been ordered by Root.
Kakashi imdiately understood and fell silent.
This was about the village.
So things simply couldn’t be spoken aloud.
“I’m sorry.”
After a long silence, Shisui finally forced out the words, guilt weighing heavy in his voice.
“What are you planning to do?”
Through it all, Hakken remained calm.
He had already guessed their identities the mont they appeared.
Within Konoha, only Danzō would pull sothing like this.
Unfortunately for him, he had badly underestimated Hakken.
“Danzō-sama said that for the good of the village, we have to reclaim the sword in your hands.”
Shisui’s expression twisted with bitterness as he revealed his mission.
A mission?
Kakashi suddenly rembered sothing, his eyes narrowing as he fixed them on Shisui.
The situation before Shisui was almost identical to the one his father had once faced—between duty and comrades.
Mission or companions... such a familiar choice.
“But no matter what, I can’t bring myself to harm you, Hakken.”
In that mont, Shisui’s gaze turned firm, resolve hardening in his eyes. Gathering his courage, he stepped up beside Hakken. “Believe . I’ll confront Danzō-sama myself about this.”
“I just can’t understand how attacking your own comrades could ever be called ‘for the village.’”
As expected, Shisui was still the sa as ever—unchanged at his core.
Hakken smiled, lightly punching him in the chest.
“Don’t be confused.”
“Let’s go. If it’s the kind of ‘for Konoha’ you truly believe in...”
“Co with to the Land of Lightning. I’ll show you.”
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