"Xuan Zhe, do you really think you're guaranteed to win?" Jiraiya's face was full of confidence. "You've actually been at a disadvantage all along. You're nowhere near my level. Unless I'm mistaken, you probably practiced some crooked technique to boost your cultivation so much. And another thing: that blade you just used is no orthodox weapon. It's a weapon exclusively for Shinobi, a Ninja Blade. Your strength depends entirely on that blade. As long as I ** you, cut up your corpse, and use my Ninja Blade as well, I'm absolutely confident I can kill you. When that happens, no one in the Hyuga Clan will be able to stop me."
Xuan Zhe's face instantly darkened.
He took a deep breath and asked coldly, "Is what you said true?"
"Every word," Jiraiya answered firmly.
"Hmph, I don't believe you." Xuan Zhe gritted his teeth. "Not unless you can prove you aren't bragging. If you can't produce any evidence, why should I believe you can kill me?"
With that, Xuan Zhe seized the blade in his hand, his gaze locked on Jiraiya, his eyes filled with ferocity, as though he regarded Jiraiya as his mortal enemy.
His gaze never left Jiraiya. He raised his blade high and brought it down at Jiraiya's head.
Watching the blade come toward him, Jiraiya panicked inside. If that strike really landed on his head, he would be finished.
Although his thoughts were in turmoil, he forced himself not to show the slightest panic. He clenched his fist, and a cold gleam suddenly flashed. A blade appeared in his hand, and he slashed straight at Xuan Zhe's neck.
Swish!
The blade sliced cleanly across Xuan Zhe's neck. A gush of hot liquid instantly spurted from the wound.
Blood poured from the cut on Xuan Zhe's neck,