Qianyu unleashed his technique. "Fifth Form: Blazing World Lightning!"
His water dragon surged, now crackling with electricity. It met the enemy's head-on. The clash wasn't an explosion, but a disintegration. A rain of charged droplets fell, sizzling through the air towards the Taki leader.
"Wind Style! Great Breakthrough!"
The man exhaled a gale. The droplets scattered. But not all. A few found their mark. Sizzle. Zap. His skin burned. His muscles twitched, locking for a split-second.
He'd brushed it off. A nuisance. But Qianyu was already moving in the mist.
"Fire Style: Majestic Dragon Flame!"
A roaring serpent of fire erupted from the haze.
"Water Style: Waterfall Basin!"
The Taki leader met it with a tidal wave. The collision was deafening. More steam. Thicker fog. Zero visibility.
Inside the white-out, a shadow split in two.
Qianyu and his clone. Blades slid home with a soft click. Bodies bent low. Eyes, twin crimson pinpoints in the mist, locked onto their target.
A sharp, collective inhale.
"Thunder Breathing. First Form: Thunderclap and Flash."
Twin Flash.
Two streaks of blue lightning tore through the fog. No sound. Just the violent parting of air, the ozone scent of speed.
The Taki leader's every hair stood on end. He'd prepared for this. He knew about this move. But knowing and experiencing were different worlds. This speed was murder made manifest.
His hands flew—just three seals. "Wind Style: Vacuum Bullets!"
He spat. A volley of compressed air balls shot forth.
Pop.
One Qianyu vanished into smoke. A clone.
But the blade was already there. He felt the cold kiss of steel on his neck before the cut. Instinct screamed. He jerked his head sideways, throwing his whole body back in a desperate retreat.
Swipe.
He landed five meters away, hand flying to his throat.
"'Tch.'" Qianyu clicked his tongue, his expression tightening. "Fast."
Blood welled, hot and insistent, between the fingers clamped to his neck. A clean slice. Skin-deep. A millimeter to the left, and his carotid would have been a fountain.
The boy… He'd predicted the water counter to the fire. Used the resulting steam as a screen. Closed the distance in a heartbeat. Even used a clone for a dual strike. The cold, ruthless efficiency of it chilled the Taki leader more than any jutsu.
This wasn't just power. It was a predator's mind.
Across the field, Qianyu pulled a soldier pill from his pouch, swallowing it dry. His chakra was a dying ember. The clone had nearly snuffed it out. The pill's effect was weak—too soon after the last one. A pathetic trickle of energy returned.
He'd considered it. Spending Witness Points. A full recharge. He dismissed the thought.
The system was a path, not a crutch. True strength was his own. This wasn't the end. Not yet.
His gaze hardened, locking onto the veteran ninja. An Elite Jonin. A village leader. A perfect stepping stone.
The Taki leader felt that resolve like a physical pressure. He lowered his bloody hand, letting the cut weep. His instincts, honed by decades of war, screamed a warning. The next move would be the last. The strongest. The boy was gathering himself for one final, all-or-nothing strike.
He wouldn't underestimate him. Not again. Every muscle coiled, ready.
The battle had drawn the attention of many ninja, Minato Namikaze among them. The longer he watched, the more a knot of dread tightened in his stomach. The gap between him and Qianyu wasn't just wide; it was a chasm. He was Jiraiya's student. He had been on the battlefield longer. So why was Qianyu's growth so explosive, so terrifyingly fast?
Am I… really a genius?
The Taki leader attacked first, breaking the stalemate. "Wind Style: Vacuum Bullets!"
A barrage of air bullets streaked towards Qianyu, a storm of invisible death.
Qianyu moved. Left. Right. A zig-zagging dance. But his focus wasn't on dodging. His breathing fell into a deep, measured rhythm. In. Hold. Out. An air bullet grazed his arm. Another ripped his sleeve. He ignored them. The pain was distant. The world narrowed to the flow of air in his lungs, the beat of his own heart.
He was entering the zone.
He closed his eyes. Senses sharpened, expanding. The whistle of the incoming projectiles, the shift of air pressure—he felt them all. The bullets that had grazed him moments ago now passed through empty space.
His blade slid into its scabbard.
His eyes snapped open.
Crackling blue lightning erupted from his body, wild and untamed. The twin tomoe in his crimson eyes spun into a furious blur.
His body bent low. The same stance.
The Taki leader's breath hitched. That move again?
But no. The feel was different. The air itself grew heavy, charged with a coming storm. He finished his seals, feet already shifting, preparing to evade whatever came.
Qianyu's voice cut through the tension, calm and final.
"Thunder Breathing, Seventh Form—"
The world held its breath.
"Honoikazuchi no Kami!"
He vanished.
Not like before. Not a straight-line flash.
This was a dragon of lightning. A blur of motion. The ground beneath his path didn't crack—it exploded, tearing open in a jagged, wandering trench that snaked forward with impossible speed.
The Taki leader's pupils shrank to pins.
Too fast. Can't track. Can't dodge.
His hands were already in position. He had to stop it!
"Wind Style: Great Vacuum Sphere!"
He fired. Multiple orbs of compressed air, each capable of cratering rock, shot towards the oncoming storm.
But the lightning dragon didn't follow a line. It weaved. It danced. The spheres impacted harmlessly behind it, blasting craters into the earth.
Think!
A desperate gamble. His last shot. He sucked in one final breath, chakra burning his throat.
"Vacuum Sphere!"
The largest orb yet launched from his mouth.
At that exact moment, a blade of pure, condensed lightning arced upwards from the serpent's path.
The collision was absolute.
BOOM!!!
A shockwave of dirt, rock, and blinding light erupted, swallowing both figures whole. A dense, impenetrable cloud of dust bloomed where they had been.
Silence.
Then, only the slow rain of debris.