Sharingan Evolution: Proficiency's Path

In a flash, half an hour had passed.

Shink!

Qingming withdrew his short sword from the chest of a Hidden Mist special Jonin, letting the man's lifeless body slump to the ground. Then, he surveyed his surroundings.

It was clear that, by now, only a handful of Mist ninjas remained to attack him, while beneath him lay the bodies of over a dozen fallen foes. Evidently, the half-hour-long skirmish had taken a heavy toll on the Mist side.

Flicking the blood off his blade, Qingming looked over at the remaining ninjas with a tone of slight amusement. "It seems you're running a little low on manpower."

The Hidden Mist ninjas exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions darkening, yet they said nothing in rebuttal; after all, it was true. Despite their group of over a dozen ninjas launching an all-out assault, Qingming had emerged virtually unscathed, while they had suffered severe casualties. They were indeed short-handed now.

But regardless, there was no way they could let Qingming escape.

Just as they were steeling themselves to call for reinforcements, a sharp whistling noise sliced through the air.

Catching sight of the movement out of the corner of his eye, Qingming shifted half a step backward, just as a colossal blade sliced past him, embedding itself into a nearby tree trunk.

The weapon cut into the wood as if slicing through butter, its edge razor-sharp.

Before anyone could react, a figure appeared before Qingming, throwing out a fierce kick aimed directly at his head.

Qingming was quick to raise his left arm to block.

Thud!

A heavy impact echoed through the air. Qingming had taken the hit solidly, and the force behind it was so immense that he was pushed back two to three meters.

And it didn't end there. Just as Qingming steadied himself, his opponent came at him again, hurling a punch straight at his face.

Qingming dodged to the side, feeling the fierce wind from the blow graze his cheek as he deftly countered with a slashing attack from his sword.

But the opponent, despite his massive build, was swift. He simply twisted his body, dodging the strike with minimal movement before lashing out again with a whipping kick aimed at Qingming's head.

Once more, Qingming raised his arm to block, instantly countering in return.

For a brief moment, the battlefield resounded with the dull impact of flesh and steel, as the two exchanged dozens of blows in the blink of an eye.

Boom!

Finally, after yet another blocked strike, the opponent momentarily retreated. With a few quick steps back, he positioned himself next to the massive sword that was still embedded in the tree.

Only then did the surrounding Mist ninjas snap out of their daze, calling out in unison, "Lord Juzo!"

Indeed, the man who had entered the fray was none other than Juzo Biwa.

Qingming had to admit: his opponent's combat experience and skill were impressive. It was no wonder that months later, when the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist faced Might Duy in his Eight Gates form, Juzo had managed to survive. His strength was formidable, beyond question.

Though they'd only clashed briefly, Qingming could tell Juzo was on a level above the average Jonin. Even without the Severing Blade, Juzo's combat prowess far surpassed that of ordinary Jonin. And with a weapon as deadly as the blade in his hands...

Qingming glanced at the distant remains of the squad vice-captain, his body cleaved in half, and thought, Indeed, even among elite Jonin, few could withstand his power.

That captain had shown impressive resilience to last as long as he had.

Drawing his attention back, Qingming fixed his gaze on Juzo once again, while the latter met his stare head-on, his eyes cold and unyielding.

"Heh..." Qingming chuckled. Not one to hesitate, he immediately activated his Sharingan, launching a Genjutsu: Sharingan as he tossed several kunai at his opponent.

But Juzo, daring to meet Qingming's gaze so brazenly, clearly had something up his sleeve.

In the instant the genjutsu took effect, Juzo pulled the Severing Blade free from the tree beside him. With a single twist, he embedded the blade deep into the ground, using its wide body as a shield in front of him.

The kunai clattered harmlessly against the blade with a metallic ping.

Qingming didn't show any sign of disappointment. He pushed off from the ground, propelling himself toward Juzo with explosive speed. In a flash, he closed the distance, his short sword thrusting through the Severing Blade's crescent-shaped notch near the hilt, aiming straight for Juzo's chest.

Juzo, however, reacted swiftly.

Breaking free from the genjutsu's hold just in time, he angled the Severing Blade, causing Qingming's sword to slide off target.

Then, without hesitation, Juzo drove himself and his blade forward, aiming to slam into Qingming head-on.

Recalling their close-range clash and the sheer strength Juzo had displayed, Qingming decided against a head-on confrontation. The thought of meeting the solid blade with brute force was even less appealing.

He pushed off the ground, retreating just in time.

Juzo's charge missed, but he wasted no time, swinging the Severing Blade in a wide arc toward Qingming as he closed in once more.

Sensing the sharp edge slicing through the air toward him, Qingming ducked, barely avoiding the lethal strike. Then, taking advantage of Juzo's momentary lapse in momentum, he thrust his short sword forward, aiming once again for Juzo's heart.

Juzo sensed the danger and immediately halted, twisting his body to evade the strike by a hair's breadth.

For the first time, Juzo's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing with focused caution as he regarded Qingming.

From the earlier battle, Juzo had witnessed Qingming's Wind Release: Rasenshuriken, the jutsu that had taken down Kaguya Mori. The sheer power of that technique led Juzo to believe that Qingming specialized in high-level ninjutsu.

But now, he could see that Qingming's swordsmanship was equally formidable.

Even just a handful of strikes had been enough to demonstrate the depth of his skill.

As for the corpses littering the ground, their bodies marred with sword wounds, well... In Juzo's eyes, they were mere cannon fodder, not worth considering as a true gauge of Qingming's abilities.

It was only now, after crossing blades himself, that Juzo acknowledged Qingming's swordsmanship with a wary respect.

Yet it was only wariness, not fear. When it came to blade work, Juzo had never backed down from anyone.

Moreover, true mastery with a blade required not only technique but a worthy weapon to realize its full potential.

And clearly, Qingming's short sword was no match for the might of his Severing Blade.

With this in mind, Juzo felt an unwavering confidence building within him.

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