"Shluk!"
The black blade sank into Isshiki's left chest without resistance, piercing the vulnerable gap between his ribs, its tip jutting half a foot out of his back.
Thick blood coated the blade, dripping from its edge and leaving dark red marks on the shattered rocky ground.
Ōtsutsuki Isshiki's body suddenly went rigid.
His pupils instantly contracted, then abruptly widened, reflecting Shihōin Naraku's face just inches away.
That face was so calm that he hardly looked like someone who had just pierced the heart of an Ōtsutsuki Clan member, as though all he had done was crush an ant blocking his path.
Agony exploded in his chest, like a red-hot iron ball had lodged inside him, each heartbeat making it burn within his heart.
Isshiki opened his mouth, but only a breathy "Hah-hah-" came out. More blood surged from his mouth, running down his chin and dripping onto Naraku's sword hand.
"You..."
Isshiki's hands instinctively seized Kurikara's blade.
The sharp edge cut into his palms, and blood ran down both sides of the blade.
But he seemed unable to feel the pain, gripping the long sword impaling his chest with all his might, his ten fingers clenched tight, his knuckles white.
"You think this is over?!"
He jerked his head up. His Byakugan were already bloodshot, a final madness surging deep within his pupils.
The Chakra throughout his body burned once more, like a final rally before death. Black and red markings spread from the side of his neck to his cheeks, and scorching waves of air burst from his body.
"The Ōtsutsuki... Clan... will not..."
He raised his right fist, gathering the last of his Chakra around it, its light faint yet searing.
"Will not die... at the hands of someone like..."
His fist hurtled toward Naraku's face.
Naraku