The Takamagahara Power in his palm erupted in an instant, locking around Hagoromo's head and soul like an invisible pair of iron pincers. He couldn't move a muscle.
"Time's up." Genki's voice was as light as a sigh, yet laced with ten thousand years of frost. "Farewell, you ungrateful bastard."
"Ugh! Aah—!!!!"
A bloodcurdling scream tore through the Shinobi World's deathly silence. Hagoromo's body convulsed violently, his eyes filled with unbearable pain and terror.
He could clearly feel his soul being forcibly ripped apart and crushed by a terrifying power. Every inch of it wailed in despair.
Genki's palm slowly tightened, crushing Hagoromo's soul bit by bit like fragile glass. It turned into pure golden energy that poured steadily into Genki's body through his palm.
Hagoromo's despair, regret, and resentment were mixed into the golden torrent, but Genki devoured them all without a trace of emotion.
He closed his eyes and felt the power surging within him. His face showed no satisfaction, only hollow calm.
Only after the last trace of soul energy had been devoured did Genki slowly open his hand. Hagoromo's body instantly went lifeless and collapsed onto the scorched earth like a puppet with its strings cut. It shriveled and withered away, finally turning to a handful of dust that scattered in the howling wind.
"Don't rush." Genki looked down at the golden flecks lingering in his palm and murmured without expression, his voice eerily calm. "Soon, very soon, there'll be nothing left here."
Behind him, Indra stood on the scorched earth, faint chakra swirling around him.
Watching Hagoromo be devoured completely, without leaving a trace, Indra's eyes held not the slightest ripple—only bone-chilling indifference.
This father, whose favoritism had ruined his life and who had orchestrated a thousand years of war, deserved not an ounce of