If there were any other transmigrators here, they would definitely cry out upon seeing Hayato's current appearance: Ichigo Kurosaki.
He really did look similar, but on closer inspection, the differences were still significant.
At this moment, Hayato's upper body was wrapped in white bandages, and a Hollow mask still covered his face. A terrifying red glow shone from the mask's eye sockets. His hair had turned red as well, its ends reaching all the way to his knees.
Part of the dense crimson blood aura surged into his body, while the rest took the shape of flames and coiled around Hayato.
"Forget that fear,
Look ahead;
Move forward,
Do not stop;
Retreat only brings old age,
Cowardice invites death.
Cry out, Zangetsu!"
Beneath the mask, Hayato's voice sounded somewhat hollow. It was clearly not loud, yet it resounded across the sky.
Even Tsunade, far away in Konoha, perked up her ears.
"Was that Hayato's voice?"
"Kind of sounded like him."
"It was definitely him!"
"How do you know?"
"In all of Konoha, there aren't more than five people capable of shouting something with that much off-the-charts cringe. Hayato ranks fourth. First is Might Guy, second is Rock Lee, third is Shishin."
"Though it's cringe, it's kind of cool, isn't it?"
In that instant, everyone in Konoha—shinobi and civilians alike—heard those declaration-like words. In the near future, someone would even write a book of over two hundred thousand words dedicated to studying and analyzing that line, with conclusions roughly along the lines of protesting against fate.
Yet for Hayato right now, those words served an enormous purpose.
Without Zangetsu's release chant, this display would have been incomplete. It would have had no soul.
Since the ritualistic flair was in place, then—let it end like this.
If gods stood in his way,