"Conviction?"
Sasori seemed to have heard an utterly ridiculous word and burst into laughter. His laughter echoed through the empty cavern, sounding especially eerie. "Things like conviction are the most intangible and fragile of all.
Before absolute power, conviction is nothing more than a thin sheet of window paper, easily pierced.
How long do you think your conviction can support you? Once I defeat you and turn you into a puppet, you'll understand that so-called conviction is merely a lie weaklings tell themselves for comfort."
"It isn't a lie."
Aoba shook his head, his eyes filled with resolve. "Conviction isn't something intangible. It is the strength that drives us forward, the hope that keeps us from giving up in desperate situations.
Just like the ninja of Sunagakure. Even when faced with the threat of war, even when confronted by powerful enemies, they never gave up. They still fought with everything they had to protect their village and their families.
That is the power of conviction. It is stronger than your puppet techniques and more meaningful than your eternity."
Sasori's laughter gradually ceased. His gaze grew colder, and his voice carried a trace of impatience. "It seems there's nothing left for us to say.
Since you refuse to surrender obediently, I can only turn you into my puppet myself and let you see what true eternal art is."
As soon as he finished speaking, Sasori rapidly formed hand seals and called out in a low voice, "Puppet Technique: Red Sand Dance!"
The moment his words fell, the crimson puppet beside him suddenly moved. It was as agile as a real person as it charged at Aoba, its sharp fingertips slicing through the air toward his chest.
Aoba's expression sharpened, and he immediately twisted aside. The crimson puppet's fingertips grazed his shoulder,