The moment the first Sand shinobi fell—cut down in an instant by Natsuhiko—the others finally snapped back to reality.
Someone let out a furious roar—no one knew who—and in the next heartbeat, the entire Sand force erupted into motion. Aside from the ANBU, who remained eerily composed, every shinobi charged forward in a frenzy, their shouts tearing through the air as they rushed him.
Natsuhiko himself hadn't fully processed the situation.
But that didn't stop him from moving.
His sensory field flared outward, blanketing everything around him. Crimson markings bloomed at the corners of his eyes once more—his intermediate Sage Mode snapping into place.
In an instant, the battlefield unfolded before him.
It was as if every movement within a dozen meters had been laid bare—every twitch, every step, every strike from the surrounding shinobi. The finer details were still rough, incomplete… but it was more than enough.
He slipped past a kunai thrust with blinding speed. In the same motion, his chakra-infused blade—glowing with a deep blue light—lashed out.
He didn't need to aim for anything precise. That kind of meticulous perfection belonged to the Uchiha.
All he needed to do… was hit.
And he did.
The moment his blade struck, a burst of blood mist exploded outward. The Sand shinobi collapsed, unable to rise again.
Natsuhiko pivoted smoothly, his body blurring like a streak of light. He narrowly avoided a strike from behind, brushing past it by mere inches.
Then, with a single horizontal sweep, he cut down the attacker at his back.
His left hand rose, forming a one-handed seal. Mid-swing, his blade shifted direction abruptly—thrusting forward instead.
The glowing weapon pierced straight through another Sand shinobi. At the same time, the Substitution Jutsu he had prepared activated silently.
Puchi!
The sound of a blade piercing flesh rang out.
But to everyone's shock, the one impaled… wasn't Natsuhiko.
It was another Sand shinobi.
And before those who struck could even react, Natsuhiko appeared behind them—like a ghost—and cut them down where they stood.
At this point, he couldn't help but feel as though he had wandered into a flock of sheep.
His enemies were far from weak.
Yet against him, they were utterly helpless.
Speed. Reflexes. Awareness.
In every aspect, he crushed them.
Sage Mode played a significant role, of course—but his own foundation had risen alongside it. And as his base improved, so too did the power of his Sage Mode.
He moved like a phantom, drifting through the encirclement of Sand shinobi. Each time he flickered into motion, one or two of them fell.
Even those who survived were effectively removed from the fight.
That should be about enough… The ANBU will make their move soon.
His blade, still shimmering with blue chakra, sliced across another opponent's chest as his gaze swept across the battlefield.
The sand dune beneath his feet was already soaked in blood.
At least twenty or thirty bodies lay scattered across the ground.
The remaining Sand shinobi were visibly shaken—fear etched into their faces—yet they still forced themselves forward, trembling as they charged.
But Natsuhiko had already stopped paying attention to them.
His senses had locked onto the ANBU.
They had split into multiple squads and were now closing in on him from different directions, silent and methodical.
Even he felt a trace of caution toward them.
And then—
A flare shot into the sky.
A distress signal.
Clearly, his actions had drawn the attention of the nearby garrison.
One could easily imagine what would happen once the rest of the forces arrived in full.
He wasn't Hashirama Senju—nor was he Madara Uchiha. Against an army of that scale, a head-on clash would only end one way for him.
And frankly, he had no intention of getting himself killed now, only to be dragged back sixteen years later by Yakushi Kabuto in some twisted "dream-fulfilling" resurrection.
That would be beyond embarrassing.
Though… if that ever did happen, maybe he could pass for a budget version of Hashirama and have some fun with it.
Still, with the kind of "cheat" he had while alive, reaching that level wasn't exactly impossible.
So why make things harder for himself?
With that thought, Natsuhiko shifted slightly, dodging a kunai that had already reached his face.
In the same motion, he seized the attacker's wrist.
A subtle twist of his body—and the Sand shinobi lost all control, his own blade plunging straight into the chest of a teammate behind him.
At the exact moment the blade pierced through, Natsuhiko applied a bit of force.
Crack.
The sound of bone snapping rang out.
And before the man could even scream, Natsuhiko's sword rose from below, piercing clean through his chest.
Two more down.
This time, he didn't give anyone—ANBU included—a chance to react.
His chakra paused for the briefest instant—
—and then he vanished.
When he reappeared, he was already outside the encirclement, one hand forming a seal.
"Sage Art: Earth Release—Earth Flow Spears!"
Chakra surged violently through his body.
In an instant, beneath the loose yellow sand, countless jagged stone spikes burst forth from the ground!
They spread across a vast area—scattered, yet completely enveloping the battlefield.
The sudden upheaval forced every Sand shinobi to leap into the air. Those even slightly too slow… weren't so fortunate.
By the time the jutsu subsided, the sand dune had transformed into a forest of stone spikes.
Under the guidance of sage chakra—and fueled by Natsuhiko's utterly unrestrained output—the spikes continued to grow, each one swelling into massive pillars.
Over three meters tall, they jutted out in chaotic formation across the battlefield.
The unlucky—and the already wounded—were no different from the dead. They were impaled clean through.
As the stone pillars continued to rise, their bodies were lifted into the air, suspended grotesquely above the ground.
Blood dripped steadily from the corpses.
Some of it splattered onto the heads and faces of the surviving Sand shinobi below.
Watching their comrades—once alive and fighting beside them—reduced to such horrific deaths filled them with rage… and hatred.
They were unwilling to accept it.
They wanted revenge.
But just as that fire ignited—
It was smothered.
Replaced by something colder.
Something heavier.
Fear.
"Th-This guy… is he even human?"
"That speed… that level of chakra… can we really fight someone like that?"
"What kind of monster is he…?"
Many of them had already lost the will to fight.
One man—alone—had withstood their entire assault without a scratch. This wasn't a battle anymore.
It was a massacre.
What they had just witnessed went far beyond anything they could comprehend. And above all else, his speed terrified them the most.
They couldn't even see him.
All they could catch was a streak of light—
—and by the time it passed, another one of them would already be dead.
And the most terrifying part?
He hadn't even used the Flying Thunder God Technique.
Too strong.
Far too terrifying.
Since when… did Konoha's ANBU have someone like this?
Could it be…
…that this man was actually the Commander of the ANBU?
That thought surfaced in the minds of countless Sand shinobi at once.
They knew their target was a Konoha ANBU operative—but beyond that, there had been no real description.
It was only natural their thoughts would drift in that direction.
"Look out! Don't just stand there, he's coming again!" A sharp, panicked voice suddenly cut through the chaos, snapping the Sand shinobi back to their senses.
In the next instant—
A storm of kunai came flying at them from every direction.
...
Who is this man?
Hidden in the shadows, Chiyo watched everything unfold in silence.
More than once, she had nearly stepped in.
And yet, every time she reached that threshold, she forced herself to stop.
It wasn't that she didn't want to help. To her, Sunagakure was everything—and someone like Natsuhiko, cutting down her people without mercy, naturally filled her with hatred.
But she was clear-headed.
Right now, blindly rushing in wasn't the priority. What mattered most was gathering information—understanding this enemy.
Only then could they capture him.
Or kill him.
Yes, she wanted information about Sasori. Yes, the longing she carried for him ran deep.
But compared to the village… those feelings were insignificant.
Especially as she watched her fellow shinobi being slaughtered. As she saw the grotesque forest of stone rising from the battlefield, her anger surged uncontrollably.
And yet—
after the anger came clarity.
Her expression gradually turned grave.
Chiyo had been holding back, carefully observing this entire time. Naturally, she had begun forming her own assessment of this "Nightingale."
But the more she saw—
the more uncertain she became.
Because she realized something unsettling.
The information she had gathered… was practically useless.
This "Nightingale" was fast—absurdly fast.
So fast it defied belief.
Even Chiyo herself couldn't track his movements.
If speed were his only strength, that would be one thing.
But it wasn't.
He was powerful. His physical strength was overwhelming. His chakra—both in quality and quantity—was on an entirely different level.
And his Earth Release and Water Release… were terrifyingly refined.
Yes—she had seen it clearly.
That blue glow coating his blade wasn't just ordinary chakra.
It was Water Release.
To wield water techniques of such caliber in a barren, arid land like this… spoke volumes about his mastery.
And his Earth Release was no less shocking.
…Does this man even have a weakness? Chiyo muttered under her breath.
Especially since she knew—
He hadn't even used the Flying Thunder God Technique yet.
She had never imagined encountering someone like this.
Someone who seemed utterly without flaw.
Judging from his build—even without seeing his face—she could tell he wasn't very old.
And yet, at such a young age, he had already risen to become one of the three major ANBU Division Commander of Konoha.
His future was almost unimaginable.
"…Why is it that heaven always favors Konoha?" Chiyo let out a faint sigh.
At that moment, she truly felt the unfairness of it all.
The Land of Fire, where Konoha stood, already possessed the most favorable geography in the entire shinobi world.
Convenient transportation routes.
Exceptionally fertile land.
Compared to that… other nations could hardly compete.
The Fire Daimyō was no miser, either—his steady financial support ensured Konoha's continued growth.
And with money came opportunity.
More resources meant more shinobi, and Konoha itself had never lacked for brilliance. Every so often, a new genius would rise.
From Sakumo Hatake in the past…
To the Sannin…
To Kakashi in the present…
And now, this ANBU operative known as Nightingale.
Any one of those names appearing in Sunagakure would have been cause for celebration.
But the reality was harsh.
At present, Sunagakure had no such dazzling talent.
Perhaps Baki could be considered promising—but compared to the man before her, even Chiyo could only sigh.
We have to find a way… to keep him here.
A dark glint flickered in her eyes.
She knew full well how dangerous he was.
She knew exactly what would happen if he closed the distance.
But as a shinobi of Sunagakure, surrender was never an option.
And as a veteran, she had always lived by one rule—
A true shinobi uses any means necessary.
"Hm?"
At that moment, Chiyo's gaze sharpened.
In the distance, Natsuhiko suddenly moved.
He reached into his pouch and pulled out a sealing scroll.
With a quick release—
Dozens of kunai appeared in his hands.
Blue chakra flared to life, coating each blade before he hurled them into the stone forest, scattering them among the Sand shinobi.
In that instant, Chiyo understood.
He was about to get serious.
And just as she expected—
The moment the kunai landed, Natsuhiko vanished.
In the upper-left section of the stone forest, one of the kunai hadn't even hit the ground yet—
When he appeared beside it.
A single slash.
One Sand shinobi fell before he could even react.
But Natsuhiko didn't leave.
His blade thrust forward again—precise, merciless—striking down another.
"He's here! Watch out!"
The shinobi in that area finally reacted, shouting as they regrouped and rushed toward him in formation.
Too late.
Before they could even close the distance—
he was gone again.
In another section of the stone forest, he reappeared.
His blade pierced yet another body without hesitation.
And before anyone could respond—
he vanished once more.
Aah!
Ugh!
Screams echoed endlessly through the forest of stone.
Natsuhiko had plunged back into the crowd, pushing his advantage to its absolute limit.
Those kunai…
They were all markers for the Flying Thunder God Technique.
Even with the crisscrossing stone pillars blocking his line of sight, it didn't matter.
His sensory perception told him everything.
Every position.
Every movement.
Every target.
Each time he appeared, someone died.
Each swing of his blade claimed a life.
Some of the Sand shinobi had managed to avoid the kunai—some had even retreated beyond the stone forest entirely.
But Natsuhiko didn't care about those who fled.
As for those who merely dodged—
If they weren't far enough…
He would simply catch them.
With speed alone.
Under this overwhelming terror of death, the Sand shinobi were subjected to a dual torment—of body and mind.
Perhaps now…
They finally understood what the shinobi of Iwagakure had once felt.
Because at any moment—
Without warning—
A reaper-like phantom could appear right beside you.
And take your life.
...
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