That Was Incredibly Rude

Zabuza truly couldn't understand why the Konoha Ninja before him was so strong.

Their last two or three exchanges had been brief, but they had made one thing painfully clear: when it came to Swordsmanship alone, he was no match for this white-haired brat.

The difference was obvious!

He was Zabuza. He had grown up amid the brutal slaughter of the Blood Mist Policy, honing his Swordsmanship in fights to the death. So how had this little white-haired brat gotten so good?!

The speed of his strikes, the way he applied force, his control over the rhythm of close combat—the brat outclassed him in every respect.

"Damn it! If I can't win with Swordsmanship, I'll use Ninjutsu."

With that decision made, Zabuza gave up on trading blows at close range. He yanked his wrist back, letting the hilt swing around, and tucked his long blade under his arm. As his weight shifted back, he raised both hands and began forming Hand Seals for Water Release, hoping to break the deadlock with Ninjutsu.

Kakashi had no intention of giving him a moment to breathe. The instant he landed, he pressed forward instead of retreating, staying on Zabuza like a shadow. His wrist flicked, his short blade flashed, and he launched three slashes in quick succession.

The first was a feint. The tip flicked upward toward Zabuza's brow, its dazzling gleam drawing his eye. Zabuza instinctively turned his head to dodge, his attention caught by the strike.

The moment he moved, Kakashi changed course. His second slash dropped sharply, the blade chopping straight down at Zabuza's hands as he formed his seals.

It was a cunning strike, meant not to inflict a serious wound but to interrupt his Ninjutsu.

Every hair on Zabuza's body stood on end. He had no time to