Within the borders of the Land of Rivers—
Natsuhiko stood amidst ruin.
His gaze rested quietly on Chiyo in the distance.
What had once been barren land was now nothing but devastation.
Crater after crater scarred the ground, large and small alike. Scattered across the battlefield lay the shattered remains of countless puppets.
The scene spoke for itself.
This had been no ordinary clash.
The moment Chiyo unleashed her puppets, Natsuhiko had already begun counterattacking with Flying Thunder God.
But there was a problem—
She stayed too far away.
Far enough that he couldn't lure her into the zone he had prepared—the area saturated with his marked Wood Release seeds.
Which meant he had no choice but to remain within his own field…
And systematically dismantle every puppet she sent his way.
Chiyo, for her part, was exceedingly cautious.
As a puppet master, close combat was the last thing she wanted.
The memory of nearly being overwhelmed by Tsunade—of watching her puppets get smashed apart one after another, inching closer to her with every strike—
It was something she had never forgotten.
Natsuhiko wasn't like Tsunade.
He didn't possess that absurd, monstrous strength.
But in exchange—
His speed… and that unpredictable Flying Thunder God—
Were on an entirely different level.
Put simply—
Tsunade's attacks were visible. You could see them coming.
You just couldn't stop them.
All you could do was dodge.
But Natsuhiko?
You couldn't even see his attacks—
Let alone react in time.
Because of that, Chiyo maintained a strict distance at all times.
Defensive puppets never left her side.
The moment Natsuhiko showed the slightest intention of advancing, she would retreat instantly.
And when he withdrew—
She didn't pursue.
Instead, she sent puppets to probe.
It was a cautious, methodical approach.
And though it cost her dearly—dozens of puppets lost in just a few minutes—
It gave her something far more valuable.
Information.
She began to notice a pattern.
Natsuhiko never strayed far.
He operated within a fixed radius—roughly thirty to forty meters.
At first, she wasn't entirely certain.
So she tested it.
More thoroughly this time.
She sent all her close-combat puppets directly into that zone.
At the same time, her long-range puppets advanced in measured increments—one meter at a time—pressing toward the boundary.
The result…
Confirmed her suspicions.
Any puppet that crossed into that invisible radius—
Was eliminated almost instantly by Flying Thunder God.
Clean. Efficient. Inescapable.
But those that remained outside?
Natsuhiko could only deal with them using the Body Flicker Technique.
That difference—
Was everything.
A faint smile tugged at Chiyo's lips.
In the world of shinobi, information was power.
And now—
She had it.
With this knowledge, she could keep herself safer…
And increase her chances of killing him.
After a long standoff, Natsuhiko stood atop the ruined battlefield and shook his head lightly.
"As expected of Lady Chiyo," he said with a faint smile.
"Looks like you've figured something out."
"Indeed."
Chiyo's tone carried a hint of satisfaction—
But her guard never dropped.
"Your earlier words were… enlightening."
She watched him closely as she spoke.
"I've always wondered why the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, needed to rely on marked kunai to use Flying Thunder God."
"Even the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, was no different."
"But now…"
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"I think I understand."
"You've modified the technique."
"A genius-level modification."
Instead of marking individual objects—
"You've turned an entire area into your domain."
Her voice grew colder.
"Within that space… you are untouchable. Like a god."
"No wonder so many failed to bring you down."
"No wonder even someone like Viper couldn't escape you."
A brief pause.
"I'll admit it."
"You're impressive."
But then—
Her tone shifted.
"However… that same setup comes with a price."
"Your mobility is severely limited."
"If you could move freely, you would've chased me already."
"But you didn't."
"Which means setting up this domain takes time—it's not something you can do instantly."
"And your effective range…"
She fixed him with a sharp, certain gaze.
"…is about forty meters."
There was no hesitation in her conclusion.
And after a brief silence—
Natsuhiko gave a small nod.
Honestly—
For someone like Chiyo to deduce this much in such a short time…
Was exactly why she was so dangerous.
A shinobi needed more than overwhelming strength.
Clarity of mind was just as essential.
Without it, gathering intel—reading an opponent, dissecting their abilities—was impossible.
And without intel—
Victory was nothing but wishful thinking.
Being seen through by Chiyo… left Natsuhiko with little room to maneuver.
Once she widened the distance and relied entirely on puppets to pressure him, there wasn't much he could do to force a decisive exchange.
He had considered using the lizard for a surprise assault.
But not long ago, he had already summoned Lizardmaru once.
That alone made things risky.
If Chiyo discovered it…
Things could spiral out of control.
"…You're right. That's exactly how it is."
After a brief pause, Natsuhiko nodded without hesitation.
"I have to admit, Lady Chiyo—you're incredibly perceptive."
"Which means," Chiyo replied coldly, bringing her hands together once more, "all I need to do is keep my distance."
In an instant, another large wave of puppets materialized around her.
"And with the scale of this battle," she continued, "it's only a matter of time before other Sunagakure shinobi arrive."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You won't escape."
"…You're not wrong."
Natsuhiko let out a soft sigh.
Then—
He reached into his ninja pouch and pulled out several dozen kunai.
Dividing them evenly between both hands, he lifted them slightly.
"But tell me, Lady Chiyo…"
His voice carried a hint of amusement.
"Why are you so certain… that I didn't leave myself an escape route?"
"And since you understand how the Second and Fourth Hokage used Flying Thunder God—"
He tilted his head, a faint smile forming.
"What makes you think… I wouldn't use the same method?"
Chiyo didn't respond.
She had seen his previous battles.
She hadn't forgotten.
But this time—
She was gambling.
Gambling that he wouldn't leave so easily.
She knew her own weakness.
Her speed wasn't exceptional.
If this boy truly decided to flee, she likely wouldn't be able to catch him.
Which meant—
If he chose to stay, there had to be a reason.
And whatever that reason was—
She wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away.
Besides…
There were things she needed to know.
Important things.
If he escaped now—
She might never get those answers.
"Since Lady Chiyo is so curious about other ways to use Flying Thunder God…"
Natsuhiko smiled faintly.
Sunlight fell across his face, giving him an almost disarming warmth.
"Then I suppose I shouldn't disappoint."
He paused for a moment, as if recalling something.
"Come to think of it… I met someone interesting not long ago."
His eyes flickered.
"A puppet master. Quite skilled."
"And… somewhat connected to you."
"…You—"
Chiyo's expression shifted instantly. "You're talking about…?"
"Oh?"
Natsuhiko blinked, as if pleasantly surprised.
"So you haven't confirmed it yet?"
He spread his hands with a trace of mock regret.
"In that case…"
"I suppose I'd better keep such valuable classified information to myself."
His smile deepened.
After all—
"I am a man with proper ANBU professionalism."
The moment his words left his lips, dozens of kunai flew from Natsuhiko's hands like streaks of lightning.
...
"This... how is this possible?"
Far across the Land of Wind, those receiving the messenger hawk looked at the letter in stunned disbelief.
Luck was on their side—the message hadn't been encrypted.
Perhaps the situation had been too chaotic at the time. Perhaps the ANBU assigned to handle encryption had been taken out. Whatever the reason, the letter was written in plain text.
It was a small mercy.
But as soon as they began reading, their astonishment grew beyond words.
Messenger hawks were fast—faster than anything a normal person could hope to traverse on foot. Journeys that would take days for a man could be completed in hours by these birds.
The secret lay in chakra.
From a young age, these hawks were imbued with it, trained to harness it as they matured. With the wind at their back and chakra guiding them, their speed could surpass even the planes of Natsuhiko's previous life.
It was remarkable.
In a world that had never taken the path of modern technology, someone had still created a highly effective method of rapid communication.
And now the letter had arrived.
Though the intel inside wasn't the absolute latest, its contents were enough to shake anyone reading it to their core.
According to the report, the "Nightingale" had single-handedly eliminated over a hundred targets.
Not just border guards. Not just ordinary shinobi.
But also countless ANBU.
Viper. Vulture. Names that were well known, respected even—and yet, all of them had fallen to this one individual.
And most terrifying of all—he had vanished.
Based on his abilities, there was a high probability that he had already broken through the encirclement.
How could this be?
What had just happened?
How could one boy suddenly wield such power—and commit acts so horrifying?
It was beyond comprehension.
Even Murashima Takumi—practically a human machine in both thought and execution—felt his mind reel in shock.
He ran a mental simulation.
If he were Natsuhiko, dropped into that battlefield, could he break through? Could he kill over a hundred enemies, including two entire ANBU divisions?
He shook his head.
No. There was no way.
Surviving the breakout itself would have been an achievement. Killing over a hundred, including ANBU? Impossible.
Taking a deep breath, Murashima forced his racing thoughts down, grounding himself in calm.
There was no point in dwelling on this.
He turned and began moving again toward the Land of Rivers.
If the Nightingale had likely escaped trouble, there was no reason to linger.
Better to leave early and avoid being caught in the chaos.
...
Back on the battlefield, the moment Natsuhiko let go of the kunai, Chiyo tensed to her limit.
Everyone in the shinobi world understood this: using kunai with Flying Thunder God was deadly.
Her fingers moved instantly, weaving chakra threads with increasing speed.
Puppets obeyed her every command.
Dozens, even hundreds, formed a coordinated wall of steel, advancing toward Natsuhiko in perfect sync.
Some puppets were tasked specifically to intercept the incoming kunai.
But as the kunai left his hands, Natsuhiko vanished.
This time, it wasn't Flying Thunder God.
It was ordinary Body Flicker.
But fast?
So fast that to the naked eye, it was almost indistinguishable from the teleportation technique itself.
CRASH!
A puppet shattered under the force of his blade.
He twisted slightly, and several more kunai streaked forward in a seamless flurry.
The next instant, Natsuhiko vanished again.
When he reappeared, it was in the exact opposite direction of where he had thrown the kunai.
Chiyo couldn't keep up.
She had just moved to intercept the scattered kunai, and in the very next moment, his figure appeared somewhere else entirely.
Before her puppets could even be commanded, he shattered them one by one.
"Is he deliberately not teleporting… or are these kunai just decoys?"
Her teeth clenched.
She couldn't understand it. How could this kid still possess such overwhelming power—even now?
He had fought his way here.
Over a hundred Sunagakure shinobi had fallen to his hands.
He had even summoned that massive summoning beast.
The amount of combat he had endured, the chakra he had expended… and yet, here he was, facing her one-on-one, his chakra still brimming, his body still unshakably strong.
What on earth was going on?
Even when he wasn't using Flying Thunder God, his speed in clearing her puppets had slowed noticeably.
But "slower" by his standards?
It was still terrifyingly fast—unimaginably fast for anyone from Sunagakure.
Why did the Konoha produce so many monsters?
Chiyo gritted her teeth.
She didn't hesitate. Puppets leapt into action, unleashing large-scale ninjutsu.
Simultaneously, other puppets began firing hidden weapons in every direction.
It was a massive, overwhelming display.
Even knowing it might be useless—he could simply retreat beyond their effective range—she had no choice.
Even if it drained her chakra, if she didn't act now, her puppets would be annihilated in moments.
"Bzzz… bzzz… bzzz!"
Suddenly, several kunai cut through the ninjutsu, flying straight toward her from all sides.
They looked worn, battered by the protective layers of chakra covering them.
Still… seeing them, her heart skipped a beat.
In the next instant, she commanded the surrounding puppets to deflect each kunai with precision.
He didn't teleport?
After deflecting four or five kunai, she sensed something strange.
Their speeds were inconsistent. Her own puppets weren't clearing them as quickly as expected.
Normally, this would be enough for someone to teleport safely.
But the boy… didn't seem to have that intention at all.
Could it… really just be a bluff?
Chiyo's thoughts raced as she continued watching Natsuhiko, still moving along the outer perimeter, evading her techniques and traps.
Then—
Her vision blurred.
The Natsuhiko who had been swinging his blade with such force vanished in an instant.
And in the next heartbeat…
A deafening explosion rang in her ears.
The sound continued relentlessly.
And she felt it—her four closest puppets, ones that had been tethered tightly to her, were all simultaneously severed from her control.