The wind swept through Konoha, now reduced to ruins;
A wind carrying an air of deadly severity;
A wind bearing an unmistakably personal stamp, carrying the lethal breath of the battlefield!
Hatake Sakumo, a man who had brought glory to the Hatake name and Hatake Swordsmanship.
He had no renowned master, no assortment of secret techniques, only the White Fang short blade gleaming with cold light.
Even before Might Duy had revealed his terrifying combat strength, Sakumo had held him in particular esteem.
Because Hatake Sakumo, too, understood one truth;
Without talent, practice again and again!
That was also why one man with one blade could make the Sannin admit their inferiority.
"Before... I never knew how extraordinary I was;"
Silken strands of chakra coiled around Sakumo's entire body, lending him a dreamlike air as he murmured to himself.
"Takahashi brother said that after I died, I could remain in the gap between life and death, waiting to catch up with Kakashi after his death;"
"I never knew how that other 'me' managed it..."
"Not until we were on our way to the Otherworld..."
Sakumo reached back and slowly drew the White Fang short blade from his back, revealing an edge that flashed with a trace of silver.
"Takahashi brother gave me a rough account of what happened to the other me, and I put myself in his shoes."
"At last, I understood!"
Only Sakumo himself could hear his murmurs, which also seemed to reinforce his resolve.
"My blade, Hatake Sakumo's blade, has always been imbued with my convictions!"
Convictions rooted in an "old-fashioned" samurai family!!
"Whether it's the techniques handed down in my family or Crescent Moon!"
"Even if it's a chop, an upward cut, a parry, a thrust, a sweeping cut..."
"As long as I, Hatake Sakumo, swing