Smoke filled the center of the battlefield.
Hashirama Senju stood on a rise covered by a Wood Release forest, his long black hair streaming in the wind, his reanimated body looking somewhat illusory in the morning light. Opposite him, the Apostle of Pain stood among the corpses of a group of True Believers, his dark red priestly robes soaked in blood, the three cracks in his mask looking particularly hideous in the dark red glow.
The two had already exchanged dozens of blows.
Hashirama Senju's Wood Release possessed boundless power. He could create a forest in an instant to entangle, strangle, and crush his enemies. But the Apostle of Pain's evil power was uncanny and unpredictable. He could turn his own pain into strength, amplify his enemies' fear within a certain range, and construct shields of evil power to withstand most physical and energy attacks.
More importantly-he did not fear death.
No, it was not that he did not fear death, but that-he believed dying in battle for the Evil God was the greatest honor.
"Wood Release: Cutting Sprigs!"
Hashirama Senju clapped his hands together, and several sharp wooden spikes burst from the ground, stabbing toward the Apostle of Pain.
The Apostle of Pain did not dodge.
The wooden spikes pierced his body-his left shoulder, right arm, and abdomen.
Blood gushed out.
But he did not fall.
"Ugh... ah..."
He let out a low, suppressed groan, then-
Laughed.
The laughter sounded particularly eerie behind his mask, hoarse and low, carrying a chilling satisfaction.
"Hashirama Senju... you cannot kill me."
He raised a hand, gripped the wooden spike piercing his abdomen, and snapped it with force.
"Because-pain is my strength."
Dark red evil power poured from the wounds on his body, burning like flames. Those wounds healed at a speed visible