Sweeping

"Sonido."

He spat the two syllables in a low voice.

Then, he raised his hand.

His pale fingers, slender and long, looked almost fragile.

Yet, with this very hand, he gave a light flick forward.

"Pfft."

"Pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft--!"

The muffled sounds of flesh being torn merged into one.

Twelve Root Jonin remained frozen in their attacking stances.

The next second, their bodies split open simultaneously—

Not with the clean cuts of a blade, but as if burst from within by an invisible, colossal force, exploding into a sky full of blood mist and shredded meat.

There were no screams, no struggles.

One strike, total annihilation.

Blood and gore fell like rain, landing on the pale ground and blooming into patches of blinding dark red.

Ulquiorra stood in the center of the blood rain, his white robe pristine, not a single drop of blood touching him.

He lowered his head to look at his pale fingers, as if confirming whether he had truly touched anything at all.

"Fragile," he evaluated.

"What is this--!!!"

The second wave of Root ninja had arrived, and upon seeing this scene, many let out irrepressible gasps.

But they did not stop their movements; more ninjutsu, ninja tools, and *Explosive Tag*s surged forward like a tide.

Ulquiorra finally moved.

He took a step forward.

Just one step.

"Boom--!"

With his landing point as the center, an invisible shockwave rippled outward in a circle.

Wherever it passed, the incoming ninjutsu scattered and dissipated.

Kunai and shuriken twisted and deformed in mid-air, and the *Explosive Tag*s were pulverized into dust before they could even detonate.

Then, he began to "walk."

It was merely a casual stroll.

Yet with every step he took, his figure would reappear dozens of meters away.

He would appear in front of, behind, or beside a Root ninja.

Every time he appeared, a Root ninja died.

Sometimes it was a light flick of his hand, and a head would fly off.

Sometimes it was a tap of his fingertip, and a chest would be pierced through.

Sometimes he simply brushed past them, and the ninja's body would fall apart without warning.

There were no flashy techniques, no dazzling special effects, only the most concise and efficient slaughter.

Ulquiorra strolled through the crowd as if walking in his own garden, and wherever he passed, lives fell like wheat.

"Form up! Use sealing jutsu!"

A Root captain wearing a bird-shaped mask roared hoarsely.

The remaining thirty-plus Root elites quickly gathered, their hands forming the same seals—

"Sealing Jutsu: Four-Limb Heavy Seal!"

"Sealing Jutsu: Chakra Chains!"

"Sealing Jutsu: Four Violet Flames Formation!"

Dozens of runic chains erupted from the ground, winding toward Ulquiorra.

Four walls of purple flame rose from the earth, trapping him in the center.

Even more invisible forces attempted to suppress his limbs and lock down his movements.

Ulquiorra finally stopped his pace.

He lowered his head to look at the runic chains wrapped around his ankles, then looked up at the purple fire walls surrounding him.

In his emerald pupils, for the first time, a faint trace of something resembling "curiosity" flickered.

"Sealing... is it."

He extended his right hand, pale fingers gently brushing against a chain.

"Click."

The chain shattered inch by inch, dissolving into specks of light.

He turned his gaze toward a wall of purple fire, opened his mouth, and blew softly.

"Whoosh—"

There was no wind, yet that wall of flame, capable of trapping an ordinary Kage-level ninja, was extinguished like a candle.

The faces beneath the masks of the Root ninjas drained of all color.

"Impossible... this is impossible..." the Bird-Mask Captain muttered, his voice filled with despair.

Ulquiorra looked at him, his hollow eyes reflecting the man's trembling figure.

"Your struggles," he said, "are meaningless."

He raised his right hand, and at the tip of his index finger, a point of ink-green light began to condense.

The light was initially only the size of a needle tip, but in an instant, it expanded to the size of a fist, compressing destructive energy within that made the soul tremble.

"Cero."

The light erupted.

A torrent of ink-green energy, over three meters in diameter, instantly engulfed all the Root ninjas in front of him.

It swallowed the formation they had constructed, and it swallowed the ninjutsu and barriers they relied upon for defense.

Then, it slammed into the entrance of the underground base behind them.

"Rumble—!!!"

The earth groaned.

The entire forest—no, the entire northeast corner of Konoha—trembled violently under this single strike.

The pale ground was plowed into a massive trench, dozens of meters deep and nearly a hundred meters wide.

The soil and rock at the edges of the trench were completely crystallized, radiating high heat that distorted the air.

And that entrance to the underground base, reinforced with refined steel and barriers, along with the dozens of meters of tunnels behind it and the Root ninjas who hadn't managed to escape in time...

Vanished.

It was not a collapse, nor a burial; it was a true "disappearance."

They were completely vaporized by the Cero, leaving not even a scrap of residue behind.

At the end of the trench, the deeper structures of the underground base were exposed.

Broken steel bars, melted walls, and... more Root ninjas pouring out from the cracks.

But they did not charge again.

They stood at the edge of the ruins, looking at that pale figure.

Looking at the pale earth stained red with blood, looking at the massive trench that resembled the entrance to hell.

Beneath their masks, every face was written with fear, despair, and... collapse.

This was not a battle at all.

This was a slaughter.

It was the pathetic and desperate struggle of ants attempting to defy a dragon.

Ulquiorra lowered his hand, his gaze sweeping over the remaining Root ninjas before finally settling on the depths of the underground base.

His perception had already locked onto that place—there, a presence far stronger and much colder than these cannon fodder resided.

"Found you."

He said softly, and his figure vanished once more.

Fifty meters underground, Command Room.

Shimura Danzō stood before a shattered window, his single eye staring fixedly upward—

Though separated by tens of meters of rock, he felt as if he could "see" everything happening on the surface.

His right hand gripped his cane so tightly his knuckles turned white.

His left eye, the Sharingan that had remained closed, was now wide open.

The Three Tomoe spun frantically within his eye, attempting to capture and analyze the essence of that terrifying power.

But all he saw was a void.

It was not Chakra, not natural energy, nor any known system of power.

It was something more fundamental, representing "death" and "nothingness" itself.

"Uchiha... Liuyu..." Shimura Danzō squeezed the name through his teeth.

His voice was filled with bone-deep hatred, and... a sliver of fear he refused to even admit to himself.

He should have realized it sooner.

That brat had managed to escape the AB Duo unscathed and possessed a terrifying existence known as Zaraki Kenpachi as his teacher.

How could there not be a deeper backing behind him?

Yet, he never imagined that this "backing" would arrive at his headquarters in such a form, at such a time, and with such an attitude of absolute crushing dominance.

"Lord Danzō!" A blood-soaked Root Jonin stumbled into the room.

Half of his mask was shattered, revealing a pale, twisted face.

"The top-level defenses have been wiped out! The second and third echelons have suffered losses exceeding seventy percent! That monster... that monster is heading this way."

"Initiate the 'Nirvana' plan." Danzō's voice was cold as iron.

"But 'Nirvana' requires time to prepare, and once activated, the entire base will..."

"Execute the order!" Danzō snapped, cutting him off.

"...Yes!"

The Jonin staggered away.

Danzō turned and walked to the center of the command room.

There was a hidden mechanism there; he pressed it, and the floor split open, revealing a downward staircase.

He stepped inside quickly, and the stairs closed behind him.

Below lay the most core chamber of Root, and the control center for the "Nirvana" plan.

He was going to initiate that plan—to bury the entire Root base, along with all the data, experimental subjects, and that monster, deep beneath the earth.

Although the price was heavy, as long as he remained alive, Root could be rebuilt.

As long as...

"Tap."

A faint sound of footsteps echoed outside the chamber.

Danzō's single eye contracted sharply.

Impossible.

This was the deepest part of the base, protected by seventeen barriers and thirty-six traps.

There were also twelve elite Jonin guards.

How could that monster be here so quickly...

"Tap."

The footsteps were closer.

Right outside the door.

Danzō spun around violently, his hands forming dozens of seals in an instant, his Chakra surging wildly—

"Izanagi!"

On his right arm, a Three Tomoe Sharingan suddenly closed, losing its luster.

Almost at the same time.

"Bang."

The chamber door, cast from Chakra metal and half a meter thick, split down the middle as if it were made of paper.

Ulquiorra stood outside the door, his emerald-green pupils calmly watching Danzō inside the chamber.

His white robe remained pristine.

There wasn't even a trace of battle on him.

"Found you," he repeated.