Ao's body collapsed, his spiky blue hair soaked and matted with blood and water.
He glared at Kiyohara with unwilling eyes, but in the end, could only feel his life slipping away, second by second.
Kiyohara regained full control of his body.
"Huff…"
He immediately dropped to one knee, using his blade to support himself, breathing hard.
The Konoha-Style Sword Art: Willow, performed by Future Kiyohara beyond the body's limits, had pushed both his spirit and physical form to the brink.
His muscles screamed, his chakra pathways stung, and his chakra reserves were almost entirely drained.
'Too much substitute fighting, and I'll need a title for it soon…'
When Future Kiyohara got serious, he used 100% of Kiyohara's physical output—which meant he was suffering side effects similar to opening the Eight Gates.
But there was no time to rest.
Kiyohara pulled out a kunai from his pouch.
Thunk!
He drove it into Ao's skull.
'Always double-tap. It's a good habit.'
"Finally… it's over."
He let out a long breath.
Fortunately, Future Kiyohara's grudge hadn't been against some future monster who'd survived the Fourth Great Ninja War, or worse, got stomped on by Kaguya Ōtsutsuki. That would've required resurrecting her first.
The transparent spirit of Future Kiyohara floated behind him like a ghost.
The revenge… had been fulfilled.
'Oddly… it just felt empty.'
And this Ao probably wasn't even the same Ao from his original timeline—just a stand-in. But it was enough to fulfill the final wish that had haunted him since death.
He stared at Ao's corpse.
Flashes of memory surged: their final fight—a fatal blow through his chest.
Back then, he had been arrogant. Believing swordsmanship alone could overcome anything.
He'd underestimated his opponent and overestimated himself.
"Past me…"
Future Kiyohara's voice echoed in his mind.
"All that 'a sword in the heart, not the hand' crap is nonsense. If you can stack a good sword with better materials—do it."
"Yeah. I get it."
Kiyohara nodded.
This was the blood-soaked lesson of a future self.
Even his newly forged sword felt… off. Not bad, but not perfect.
'Guess I'll need a Kusanagi Blade someday.'
"Well, here's hoping you don't get boxed up and shipped out in the end too."
Compared to the rogue-nin version, this Kiyohara had less bitterness and more youthful edge.
He smiled and raised his hand in farewell.
Then, his form dissolved into shimmering motes of light.
Those motes rushed into Kiyohara's body—pure essence, he could only describe as origin.
The fusion was seamless, like water merging with water.
Massive streams of information flooded his mind.
Not just how to use "Willow," but every nuance—philosophy, intuition, improvisation, counter-techniques—a sea of knowledge from countless battles.
His spiritual energy felt cleansed, sharper and more focused than ever.
A natural affinity for the sword blossomed within him. Like he was born to wield one.
A cooling sensation flooded his brain, washing away all mental fatigue. His thoughts became razor-sharp.
'My spiritual power… it's surging.'
And this newfound power acted like a catalyst—triggering deeper bodily change.
His near-empty chakra reserve began to regenerate, slowly but steadily.
His exhausted body reinvigorated, his fatigue melting away, replaced with renewed vitality.
"My chakra capacity increased again…"
He clenched his fist.
If Kakashi was a standard 1.0 unit of Jonin chakra, then he was now somewhere between 1.3 and 1.5.
This wasn't theoretical power—it was real.
Two future versions of himself had fused with him.
Even if not full inheritances, the cumulative growth was undeniable.
'Just over a month ago, I was a Genin. Barely scratching the Chūnin level through cleverness and double-life knowledge.'
'Now…?'
It felt surreal.
This pace of growth was absurd.
'Only Obito, who awakened two tomoe and then Mangekyō back-to-back, could match it.'
Sasuke? He had to watch his entire clan's massacre in HD just to awaken a single tomoe.
After a brief rest, Kiyohara moved his limbs gently.
Outwardly, he was still battered and bloodstained.
But inside?
Transformed.
He'd shed his skin. His swordsmanship—a complete metamorphosis.
But that brought a new problem.
"Konoha-Style: Willow" was a technique created by Maruboshi Kosuke.
And there was no way he could explain its origin.
Kosuke wasn't just a legendary sword master—he'd trained under the Second Hokage.
Hiruzen and the village elders knew his full skillset.
Kiyohara? A newly promoted Chūnin. No credentials, no lineage.
'There's no way they'd believe I just "figured it out on my own."
This technique has to stay hidden.
It's now a trump card—only used in life-or-death moments, or when absolutely unobserved.'
He needed a legitimate, public-facing sword style.
And that meant one thing:
"I need more merit."
"Enough battle accomplishments to request access to advanced sword techniques… and more importantly—village backing."
This mission, however, had delivered exactly that.
'Slaying Ao, a Mist Jonin?'
That was huge.
Enough to petition Konoha for access to forbidden jutsu, sword arts, or direct resource support.
Thanks to powerful civilian ninja like Kosuke, the village jutsu library included many non-clan, high-tier techniques.
If his contributions were deemed worthy, the Hokage's office would reward him—in money, jutsu scrolls, or status.
'Kakashi… where are you?'
Before dragging Ao away, Kakashi had gone off alone—probably after the one causing the Byakugan interference.
"Time to loot."
Kiyohara sheathed his sword and began rifling through the bodies.
This would buy him a few more seconds of chakra regen and give him some nice war spoils.
'No point rushing back empty-handed.
Better to return with chakra and a full loot bag.'