Sasuke raised a hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. The Rinnegan in his left eye and the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan in his right locked onto Kokushibo at the same time, his gaze colder than the moonlight behind him. His opponent's strength exceeded his expectations. This was not simply power or speed, but a realm in which "technique" and "principle" had become one.
Kokushibo looked at Sasuke's icy gaze and the purple demon god that, though damaged, still radiated terrifying pressure, yet his thoughts were pulled back in an instant to the distant Sengoku Period.
In a daze, the scene before his eyes began to warp and overlap.
Sasuke's bearing as he controlled Susanoo, that arrogance of wielding divine power in a mortal body, that gaze that looked down upon everything-all brought him a sting both familiar and hateful.
Especially when Sasuke activated his Dōjutsu and coated Susanoo's weapon in inextinguishable black fire, the shape of those black flames and the absolute power they represented, seemingly capable of burning everything to ashes, overlapped fatally with the figure buried deep in his memories.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
The younger brother he had spent his entire life chasing, yet could never reach.
In his eyes, the world seemed to lose its color. Sasuke's Susanoo vanished, replaced by a man dressed in samurai garb, with Sun Wheel Flower Paper Earrings dangling from his ears. He held a jet-black Nichirin Blade, its length wreathed in flames as dazzling as the sun. Every swing was as glorious as the sunrise, cutting down all evil in the world.
Sun Breathing.
It was the origin of all Breathing Styles, and the pinnacle no swordsman could ever reach.
He could not forget his younger brother's clear eyes, which seemed able to see through everything; could not