"Final match: Mifune versus Ryōken."
The host samurai was also deeply invested in this match and deliberately drew out his announcement.
Boom!
The crowd instantly erupted. At last, the final had arrived—this was the selection for the next general.
It was on the same level as choosing a Hokage candidate.
Of course, the requirements for becoming Hokage were higher. Military achievements, strength, and prestige were all indispensable.
The Land of Iron placed greater emphasis on strength. They needed Kage-level experts to preserve the Land of Iron's neutrality.
Who, then, would claim victory?
Mifune was a renowned samurai expert. He had fought the demigod of the ninja world and survived. His tremendous strength had also been plain for all to see in the previous matches. In every respect, he was exceptionally formidable.
Moreover, he was clearly in the prime of his life, with abundant experience.
Ryōken was a rising star, equally astonishing in strength. His unparalleled speed and ultimate sword radiance had won him immense admiration. He was a genius among samurai, one rarely seen in a hundred years.
How thrilling would a clash between two top-tier samurai be? Unlike ninja, samurai emphasized speed, precision, and ruthlessness in battle. A moment's carelessness meant defeat; there would be no prolonged stalemates.
On the arena stage.
On the vast dueling platform, Ryōken and Mifune stood fifty meters apart.
On the left side of the platform, Mifune wore samurai garb, with a long treasured sword at his waist. Its scabbard was ancient and unadorned. On the right, Ryōken wore azure robes, likewise carrying a sword at his waist. Its ordinary scabbard showed nothing remarkable whatsoever.
Ryōken was now eleven years old. Years of training had made his body sturdy and well-built, though he was still slightly shorter than Mifune.
Only his somewhat youthful face