Watching Uchiha Naka's lifeless body fall, Monzaemon Chikamatsu retracted his puppet to his side and turned to survey the rest of the battlefield.
'It seems we have the upper hand here, but our strongest vanguard forces are struggling… we should—?!'
Suddenly sensing a catastrophic abnormality in the atmosphere behind him, Chikamatsu twisted his fingers in pure desperation.
Woosh!
"Gah!"
Chikamatsu gasped as the illusion shattered—revealing Uchiha Naka's blade slicing downward through the air!
Before the steel could cleave him in two, a towering puppet with two horns extending from its temples—resembling a demonic Oni—lunged forward. It yanked Chikamatsu backward just as Naka's blade bit deeply into the old master's shoulder. The Oni puppet then delivered a devastating kinetic uppercut, launching Naka flying backward across the clearing.
Huff Huff….
"HOW?!" Chikamatsu rambled in sheer panic, withdrawing into the defensive perimeter of his ten white-robed protectors. "I wasn't under Genjutsu! Not then, and not now!"
Naka somersaulted gracefully through the air, landing steadily just out of the puppet master's immediate reach.
'Izanagi is indeed a terrifying kinjutsu...' Naka thought, his mind racing as he evaluated his state. 'Even with the passive protection of my Takamimusubi, my right eye is already bordering on total blindness. Its chakra consumption is incomparable to the Susanoo or Kamimusubi. If I am forced to rewrite reality with Izanagi even one more time... my right eye will lose its light forever.'
Steeling his resolve, Naka raised his head, his crimson gaze boring into Chikamatsu with absolute malice.
"As I said before... before these eyes, your puppets are nothing more than child's play."
"Hmph! As arrogant as ever, even on the brink of defeat, Uchiha!" Chikamatsu spat back. "No matter. You cannot defeat me alone! Accept your fate and die!"
Just as Chikamatsu prepared to command his puppets to finish the exhausted warrior, a cold, suffocating chakra radiated from Naka's body. It was an ominous, malevolent energy the old master had never experienced in his long life.
'What kind of chakra is this... so heavy, so sinister?'
A thick bead of sweat rolled down Chikamatsu's temple. Before he could act on his hesitation, Naka's left eye spun violently, releasing a fresh, dark stream of blood that trailed down his cheek.
"Who said I am alone?"
"Kamimusubi!"
"?!!!!!"
Through the eyes of his puppets, Chikamatsu watched in absolute horror as the corpses of the fallen Uchiha division began to glow, turning momentarily transparent before physically materializing back into reality around Naka.
Naka's left Mangekyō dōjutsu, Kamimusubi (last of three creation gods) possessed the ultimate authority to reverse physical damage inflicted upon a target. It was powerful enough to pull souls back from the jaws of death itself. However, its reality-bending grace could not heal the harm Naka did to his own body; he could resurrect an army, but he could not mend himself.
"Now... it is over, Monzaemon Chikamatsu!" Naka declared.
Though the resurrected Uchiha clansmen briefly looked around in shock and confusion, their minds rapidly regained clarity. Recognizing the state of the war, they instantly unleashed a synchronized barrage of shurikenjutsu and elemental ninjutsu at the enemy commander.
"!!!"
Chikamatsu frantically weaved his fingers through the air. His ten masterpieces moved in flawless coordination, systematically deflecting and blocking the incoming projectiles with mechanical precision. The defensive display was breathtakingly elegant, like a macabre dance. It was immediately obvious that Chikamatsu possessed a far greater mastery over these ten white-robed puppets than his four colossal deity constructs. Yet, despite their machine-like perfection, they were facing the Uchiha clan's signature shurikenjutsu—a lethal art perfected over generations of Sharingan mastery. Inevitably, a few kunai and shuriken slipped through the gaps, cutting into Chikamatsu's flesh.
"Gah! Urgh!"
'Remaining on the defensive will only seal my doom! I must... ATTACK!'
With a sharp flick of his wrists, Chikamatsu sent half of his collection charging forward. The puppet with the red twin hair buns led the vanguard, its elite kenjutsu initially striking down several Uchiha before anyone could react. However, the moment several Chunin with matured two-tomoe Sharingan stepped forward to intercept it, the puppet's momentum dropped significantly. It continued to claim lives, but its advance was drastically slowed until Uchiha Arashi stepped in, completely locking down its fearsome assault with his own blade.
Simultaneously, a bald, blue-skinned puppet lunged at another group of ninja, twisting and weaving to evade the crossfire of jutsus. The moment it closed the distance, it snapped its head forward, launching five piercing metal tendrils that impaled multiple Chunin and a Jonin. Uchiha Eisuke and the surviving Jonin quickly converged on the threat, aggressively warding the beast back.
To the surprise of Arashi, Eisuke, and the rest of the Uchiha, both attacking puppets suddenly disengaged, leaping back to reform their line.
That was when they noticed three specific puppets forming a tight triangular pyramid, their wooden jaws snapping wide. On the right stood a puppet with a light purple ponytail, a beard, and red markings under its eyes, the character for Dharma (法, Hō) etched into its maw. To the left was a puppet with spiky purple hair, a green jawline, and the character for Sangha (僧, Sō) inside its mouth. Standing tall upon their shoulders was the final construct, sporting wild white hair and sideburns, with Buddha (仏, Butsu) carved into its throat.
Sanbō Kyūkai 三宝吸潰 (Three jewels suction crushing)
A terrifying, high-velocity vortex materialized at the center of the trinity. The vacuum generated a monstrous suction force, violently pulling in everything in its path—including elemental jutsus, stray shuriken, heavy weaponry, and screaming Uchiha ninjas. The crushing kinetic pressure inside the vortex pulverized everything drawn into its center before expelling the mangled, tattered remnants out of the puppets' exhaust ports.
"!!!"
Standing in the rear, Naka witnessed the absolute devastation of his frontline. His left eye spun frantically once more, a fresh torrent of blood spilling down his cheek.
Kamimusubi!!!
Instantly, the mangled and crushed bodies of the Uchiha kinsmen turned transparent, rewriting their deaths and materializing them safely right back next to Arashi's squad.
Huff Huff
"Do you see it now?! This is the power of the Uchiha! Before these eyes, your puppets are nothing more than child's play! Mere toys dancing in the palm of a god! AHAHAHAHAHA!"
Naka laughed maniacally, a distinct hint of madness bleeding into his voice. Both of his cheeks were stained with trails of fresh blood. Within his eyes, crimson irises housing his unique Mangekyō Sharingan pattern were framed by bloodshot sclera, the web of red veins radiating an ominous, suffocating pressure into the air.
Behind him stood Uchiha Arashi and Uchiha Eisuke with their Sharingans spinning, flanked by the First Division Uchiha Jonin and Chunin. Their faces were etched with deep fatigue and absolute physical exhaustion, yet their eyes blazed with an unshakeable, fanatical confidence.
On the opposing side of the battlefield stood the hooded figure draped in white robes. The fabric was scorched with burn marks and torn by the bloodstained kunai and shuriken that had managed to slip past the defensive perimeter of his ten remaining puppets. Beneath his partially singed hood, the lower half of Monzaemon Chikamatsu's face was exposed. His skin was wrinkled, pale, and weathered; the renowned puppet master was clearly an old man drawing near his deathbed.
Suddenly, a sharp, whistling wind echoed across the scarred landscape.
Uchiha Naori materialized in a flicker of displacement right next to Naka, flanked by a fresh vanguard of the Seventh Division's elite Jonin and Chunin.
"Naori?"
"Naka, the southern Suna forces were a diversion. Most of their troops were just old and injured ninjas," Naori explained quickly. "Kagami and the others are more than enough to handle them. It seems we weren't too late."
Recognizing Uchiha Naori right away, Monzaemon Chikamatsu pivoted and immediately fled the battlefield without a shred of hesitation. He was a veteran; he knew there was absolutely no chance for him to defeat Naka and a fresh wave of Uchiha reinforcements now.
"! Don't let him escape! Ugh….!"
Naka surged forward to give chase but instantly stumbled, his knees buckling. Naori and Arashi blurred to his side, catching him before he could hit the dirt.
"Naka!"
"Are you alright?!"
Naka didn't answer. He just stared blankly at his right hand, which was locked in a tight grip on the hilt of his sword. His vision... the rightmost corner of his sight was a muddy, out-of-focus blur compared to the rest. He slowly blinked his right eye, then tested his left, repeating the process in growing panic.
"Naka?"
Gritting his teeth, Naka forced his fingers to clamp onto his hilt even harder and forced his spine straight.
"Chase after Chikamatsu! We cannot let him escape!"
"Naka, calm down," Arashi urged in an anxious voice, deeply concerned by his friend's erratic state. "We've already won. There is no longer any need to risk our lives."
Naka's eyes widened in a sudden flash of fanatical anger, and he lashed out.
"What do you know?! If we don't kill him today, he will come back with even more powerful puppets! When that day comes, who among us will be able to stand against him?!"
"NAKA!" Arashi barked, firmly seizing Naka's arms. Over his shoulder, he gave Naori a subtle nod, signaling her to secure the perimeter and lead the rest of the exhausted division away. Naori nodded back grimly, quickly guiding the Chunin and the majority of the Jonin out of the zone. Only four elite Jonin remained behind, forming a defensive square to guard against an unexpected ambush.
"Naka! Your Mangekyō isn't almighty," Arashi pleaded, his tone softening. "We need to retreat and recover. Come on, let's head back to camp first."
"WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!" Naka screamed, deaf to Arashi's reasoning. He aggressively flared his remaining chakra, ripping his arms away from Arashi's grasp. "It is a miracle for our clansmen to awaken these eyes! We must take Chikamatsu down while I can still use them!"
"NAKA! Don't do this!" Arashi persisted, stepping directly into Naka's path to block him, the four accompanying Jonin stepping up shoulder-to-shoulder behind him.
"YOU!" Naka's face contorted with pure, unbridled fury. "WHY CAN'T YOU SEE IT?! Chikamatsu is a genius! After this battle, he will forge even deadlier puppets and techniques to tear us apart!"
Then, his shoulders slumped, and he lowered his head. Deep inside Naka's fractured mind, a volatile cocktail of frustration, paranoia, and deep-seated contempt began to churn, triggered by the corruptive nature of the Curse of Hatred. Slowly, he raised his head once more to stare coldly at his kinsmen. His blood-stained eyes and hollow facial expression were completely void of any human emotion.