Slayer: Look directly at the Seraph, standing on the sun

"Can you see their movements?" Tobirama Senju's voice carried a hint of appreciation, yet remained calm.

“Every enemy is part of my plan.” Zhang Hai’s answer was concise and powerful, his eyes showing no wavering.

The blades clashed once more. Tobirama Senju's sword collided with that of an enemy ninja, sparks flying. He deftly turned, swiftly deflecting the attack, and then, in the enemy's momentary daze, his blade flowed smoothly across the man's neck. Blood gushed out, disbelief filling the enemy ninja's eyes as he collapsed to the ground.

“These ninjas are losing their fighting spirit the more they fight,” Tobirama Senju said softly, pausing his sword as he looked at Zhang Hai beside him.

Zhang Hai smiled slightly, his eyes still cold and ruthless, "On the battlefield, there is only victory and life and death."

Behind him, the threat of the monstrous serpents still lingered like a ghost, occasionally causing ninjas to scream as they were devoured, their blood and venom mingling in a suffocating cacophony. Zhang Hai did not focus his attention on these horrific scenes, but rather on the enemy before him. His eyes held no fear, only calculation and composure.

Tobirama Senju's swordsmanship flowed like a natural extension, each strike as graceful as the wind rustling through leaves, light yet deadly. The blade moved with effortless ease, its movements possessing an elegant beauty, and each strike a fatal blow to the enemy. Blood splattered, corpses fell one after another, as if following the natural rhythm of swordsmanship. Each swing was accompanied by the fall of an enemy; the surrounding silence and the clamor of battle intertwined, creating a strange balance.

Zhang Hai gazed intently at Tobirama Senju's swordsmanship, his eyes gleaming with admiration for this master swordsman. Although the two lacked perfect tactical coordination, this seemingly intuitive understanding revealed a profound rapport between them, showcasing their deep comprehension of the art of combat. Zhang Hai's swordsmanship was concise yet exquisite; he skillfully exploited the enemy's weaknesses and gaps, striking their most vulnerable targets in an instant. Tobirama Senju, on the other hand, displayed the ultimate beauty of swordsmanship through fluid and swift movements.

"Your swordsmanship is indeed somewhat similar to the Konoha style," Tobirama Senju suddenly said, his tone tinged with curiosity.

"Konoha Style? That was just my martial art from my early years," Zhang Hai replied, a hint of self-mockery flashing in his eyes. "But I don't want it to limit my future."

Tobirama Senju nodded, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly asked, "What should we do if we no longer have any enemies?"

“Then let’s find the next enemy.” Zhang Hai’s tone was calm, carrying an absolute conviction. “The battle never ends.”

As their offensive continued, the surrounding battlefield gradually emptied. The allied ninjas ceased to mount effective resistance, and more and more enemies chose to flee, attempting to escape this irreversible battle. However, they could not escape; poison gas already filled the air, and even their last hope dissipated with the wind.

Whenever the two fought side-by-side in perfect harmony, their swordsmanship created a unique rhythm on the battlefield. Each of Zhang Hai's strikes carried a profound, dark power, while Tobirama Senju's sword light blazed like a burning sun, intense and dazzling. The two forces intertwined, like a symphony of destiny, possessing both the brutality of violence and the elegance of art.

"They're all losing their composure," Zhang Hai said calmly, observing the changes on the battlefield.

“Yes.” Tobirama Senju’s blade flashed lightly, severing the attack of an enemy in front of him. Blood splattered in the air, like flowing art. “They are no longer a single entity.”

"Then, let's continue." Zhang Hai gave the order, and the blade flashed once more.

Smoke and dust gradually filled the air, the air thick with the scent of death. The earth trembled violently; the battle between the enemy and the Konoha ninja had reached its climax. However, behind this chaotic battlefield, a quiet change was taking place within Zhang Hai's heart.

He remembered that day, the death of Konoha's White Fang. On the surface, he had let go of that memory, but the deep-seated rift within him remained unhealed. White Fang's death—the death of his master who had once saved him, the man driven to his death by fate—shocked Zhang Hai like never before. He knew he could no longer live so simply for others. White Fang's death made him see a cruel reality—power and freedom were the only things truly worth pursuing.

"He abandoned the mission and committed suicide," Zhang Hai recalled casually, the words echoing in his mind as if they were a footnote to his own fate. From that moment on, he no longer felt confused or pained by the deaths of others, nor did he want to live for any particular ideal or for anyone else. All emotional constraints were cast aside; what he sought was his own freedom and his own power.

Inspired by Tobirama Senju's swordsmanship, Zhang Hai's swordsmanship entered a completely new realm. His state of mind underwent a transformation; he no longer merely used his sword to kill, but to create a power—a power capable of controlling destiny. He named this new swordsmanship "Sword Control Technique," signifying not just a skill in swordsmanship, but a spiritual elevation.

Blades danced, their edges flashing like lightning as Zhang Hai moved with effortless grace across the battlefield. Each of his strikes was no longer merely a matter of strength and skill, but entirely dependent on the control of his mind. At this moment, swordsmanship was not just an outburst of power, but an elegant art. As his blade sliced ​​through the air, blood began to swirl across the battlefield, as if the river of fate was under his control, a fleeting rainbow, everything at his command.

With each swing of his blade, Zhang Hai could feel the resonance between the blade and his blood. It was an indescribable thrill, as if he were resonating with every cell in the world. He never wasted a single ounce of strength, nor did he let a single drop of blood go to waste. He controlled his blade, controlled his destiny, and even controlled the life and death of every enemy.

"Use the knife as your path, cut your own future." He murmured, this phrase becoming his life motto. All the pain and suffering would eventually be transformed into each swing of the knife, each stroke representing a complete severing of the past, each stroke representing the beginning of a new life.

Meanwhile, the Konoha leadership remained perplexed by Zhang Hai's plan. Tsunade stood before the Third Hokage, her brow furrowed. She kept pressing him for an answer, demanding to know Zhang Hai's true intentions. But the Third Hokage never provided a definitive answer. Tsunade couldn't comprehend Zhang Hai's actions, especially when she recalled his cold-blooded attitude during the poison incident; her heart was filled with pain and inner conflict.