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A metallic shing echoed through the mansion as swords—dozens, hundreds—ripped themselves free from their owners' grips. The weapons trembled in the air, suspended as if held by unseen hands. A heartbeat later, they turned in unison, their sharpened edges now aimed directly at their former masters.
It didn't matter where they were. In the courtyard, the halls, the training ground—every samurai in the mansion found themselves at the mercy of their own blades.
And at the center of it all stood Inoiki, his sky-blue aura pulsing like a living thing.
With nothing but sheer force of will, he had seized control of every blade in the area. His Psychokinesis had turned the very weapons of the Land of Iron against its warriors.
Mifune gritted his teeth. This was no mere demonstration of power.
Inoiki's gaze swept across the room, unwavering and cold.
"I understand that you would rather die than surrender to my demands," he said, his voice eerily calm. "But let me make one thing very clear—I will have those materials. One way or another."
He took a step forward, the weight of his presence pressing down on those around him.
"I won't go on a killing spree," he continued, his tone almost conversational. "I'm not some mindless demon, nor am I a bloodthirsty devil. But if you refuse me, I will break you in a way no blade ever could. I will humiliate you so thoroughly that you samurai will never again have the strength to raise your swords with pride. That, I promise you."
Mifune's jaw tightened. He met Inoiki's eyes without flinching.
"You're openly threatening us—using nothing but the strength you wield." His voice was steady, but beneath it simmered anger. "You realize that what you're doing is not just? That this kind of behavior could lead to war between the Land of Iron and Konoha?"
Inoiki didn't hesitate.
"You're right," he said simply. "I am being unreasonable. And yes, I am using my strength to force your hand—because I will have those materials."
His words carried no doubt, no hesitation. Then, his tone darkened.
"As for war?" A slow smirk played on his lips. "Go ahead. Start one if you wish."
The air in the room seemed to thicken again.
"But let me warn you," Inoiki said, his voice dipping into something deadly. "If it comes to that, I will not be so lenient. There will be no mercy. I will unleash hell upon your people, and by the time you even begin to devise a way to stop me, it will already be too late." His eyes burned with an unsettling certainty. "By then, at least half of your samurai will be dead. Perhaps even more."
Then, just as suddenly as it had arrived, the crushing force of his aura vanished.
The suffocating mental pressure dissipated in an instant. Across the mansion, the samurai gasped for breath, their trembling limbs finally free from the unseen force that had weighed them down.
The metallic clatter of swords rang through the hall as every weapon that had floated in the air came crashing down to the floor.
The threat had passed.
But the message was clear.
This was no negotiation.
Inoiki's voice remained calm, almost unnervingly so.
"I do not expect an immediate answer," he said. "I'll give you until tomorrow morning. Speak with the Daimyo, hear his response. My next move will depend on his decision."
And just like that—he was gone.
Vanishing into thin air as if he had never been there in the first place. No flicker of movement, no trace left behind. One moment he stood before them, the next, only silence remained.
For a long second, the room stood frozen in the aftermath of his presence.
The Second-in-Command, who had been struggling just moments ago under the sheer weight of Inoiki's pressure, finally straightened. He sucked in deep, steadying breaths, trying to calm the lingering tremors in his limbs. His body still ached from the overwhelming force that had pressed down on him.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried the disbelief of a man who had just stared into the abyss.
"He really is a monster." His eyes were dark with unease. "How can someone be that powerful?"
He turned to Mifune, searching his leader's face for an answer. But Mifune only exhaled slowly, weariness settling in his features.
"What can we do?" Mifune said at last, his voice heavy with reluctant acceptance. "I have no choice but to speak with the Daimyo."
There was a pause before he continued, quieter this time.
"If it were up to me alone, I wouldn't bow to arrogance—not to anyone. But this decision isn't mine to make." His fists clenched at his sides. "The Daimyo must be informed."
The Second-in-Command nodded in understanding. "You've made the right decision, my lord."
Mifune gave a slow nod, though his expression remained unreadable.
"Go check on the men," he instructed. "After what we just witnessed, I need to know if everyone is still standing. That was no ordinary show of strength—that was a warning from Inoiki, the Silent Reaper of Konoha."
The Second-in-Command bowed slightly before turning on his heel and hurrying to inspect the state of the mansion's guards and samurai.
Mifune lingered for a moment longer, then took a steady breath and strode toward the door. His destination was clear.
He had an audience to seek.
The Daimyo of the Land of Iron awaited.
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