"Kill them!"
At the edge of Kirigakure, within the area sealed by a barrier, the roar of battle shook the air.
Ninjutsu rained down in relentless waves toward the Kaguya clan, yet their strongest warriors moved with astonishing agility, weaving through the barrage as they charged headlong into the Mist's forces.
It was clear they had long anticipated this confrontation.
The Kaguya clan had made their preparations well in advance—digging out underground shelters where the women and children, those without combat ability, had been hidden away.
This single measure proved remarkably effective, shielding their vulnerable members from the initial onslaught of Kirigakure's attacks.
Freed from worry, the Kaguya warriors fought with even greater ferocity.
Blood scattered through the air.
Even though most of the clan had already lost the power of their Shikotsumyaku, their bodies remained terrifyingly strong. Their raw physical might, combined with blinding speed, created immense pressure for the Mist shinobi.
And more importantly—these were battle-hardened fighters.
Faced with such large-scale encirclement, they displayed remarkable experience, slipping into the enemy ranks like eels, forcing the Mist shinobi into close-quarters combat.
In such conditions, large-scale ninjutsu became a liability.
After all, using it recklessly would mean harming their own allies.
Perhaps the ANBU wouldn't hesitate—after all, for them, completing the mission outweighed everything else.
But the ordinary shinobi, not yet fully shaped by the brutality of the "Bloody Mist" era, were not so cold-hearted.
For a time, the overwhelming forces of Kirigakure found themselves locked in a stalemate with the Kaguya clan.
"Not bad… they're putting up quite a fight."
Standing at a distance, Obito—controlling Yagura—watched the battlefield unfold, letting out a quiet sigh.
The scene stirred something within him, bringing back memories of the battlefield.
But back then, he had been weak.
Powerless.
If he had possessed his current strength in those days… perhaps he wouldn't have had to watch Rin die before his eyes.
"They really are doing quite well," Black Zetsu said with a sinister chuckle from beside him. "But the better they perform, the greater the losses Kirigakure will suffer. I imagine that suits you just fine."
"It does," Obito replied with a nod, though his brow soon furrowed. "But I'm wondering… do you think that Nine-Tails jinchūriki will show up?"
"I can't say for certain," Black Zetsu answered, though his tone carried confidence. "But I believe he will. There's no need to worry too much—I've already left a clone behind. Whatever happens there, I'll know."
Obito gave a slight nod.
This time, deploying the Fourth Mizukage had been a calculated risk—serving as bait.
Of course, it wasn't just bait. As Black Zetsu had put it, it was meant to trigger a chain reaction that would ultimately benefit them.
But Obito didn't care much for the intricacies of such plans.
What mattered to him were the tangible results.
How much damage would be dealt?
And more importantly—would that damned Nine-Tails jinchūriki take the bait?
In the end, it had only been about two years since Obito's transformation.
Two years was far too short a time to completely reshape someone who, at fourteen or fifteen, had once been the dead last in the academy.
Some things required time—time to mature, to refine one's thinking, to develop true composure and insight.
Obito wasn't there yet.
Even if he had begun to learn, growth like that could not be rushed.
Fortunately, he had Black Zetsu.
Even if he didn't trust him in the slightest, that didn't stop him from making use of him.
After all…
He hadn't even truly trusted Madara Uchiha.
"Hmm?"
Suddenly, Black Zetsu let out a sharp sound of surprise.
"He's making his move!"
"Is that so?"
At Black Zetsu's words, Obito immediately cast aside his wandering thoughts. Closing his eyes slightly, he focused, taking direct control of Yagura.
And in that very instant, through Yagura's body, he felt it—
A crushing wave of chakra surging toward them.
Not only that, but within Yagura, the Three-Tails began to stir restlessly, as if reacting to something. It was a strange, contradictory response—fear, unmistakable fear… yet at the same time, an overwhelming urge to draw closer.
Even Obito could clearly sense that conflicting emotion.
That alone confirmed his suspicion.
The power within that man… it had to be the Nine-Tails. Otherwise, the Three-Tails wouldn't react like this.
With that thought, Obito's body began to blur, his form slipping into intangibility as he moved swiftly toward the battlefield.
But before he could go any further—
A vast, suffocating chakra suddenly erupted.
Obito had faced the Nine-Tails before. In that instant, he immediately recognized what that power was.
"…A Tailed Beast Bomb?"
The realization made him curse inwardly.
That lunatic—he was going this far? Using a Tailed Beast Bomb against a barrier like this?
Yet almost immediately, something felt off.
This Tailed Beast Bomb wasn't like the one he had unleashed when controlling the Nine-Tails. It lacked that wild, uncontrollable ferocity.
Instead, it was restrained.
Compressed.
And yet, its destructive power was no less terrifying.
That contrast made Obito's eyes narrow.
Whoever was controlling the Nine-Tails' chakra… had reached an extraordinary level of mastery.
And he wasn't the only one who noticed.
On the battlefield, shinobi from both sides felt the change almost instantly. Even before the attack was launched, that overwhelming presence forced them to halt, their movements freezing as they instinctively turned their gazes beyond the barrier.
In the distance, a figure stood.
Bathed in golden light.
His right hand was raised, held steady in the air.
And within his palm, a pitch-black sphere had formed—its surface rippling with dense, suffocating chakra that seemed to swallow everything around it.
Then—
Under his control, the sphere shot forward, hurtling toward the barrier.
In that moment, the scent of death spread across the entire battlefield.
"BOOM—!"
The barrier shattered like fragile glass.
A violent, invisible shockwave exploded outward, sweeping across the battlefield in an instant. Those closest to the impact didn't even have time to react before they were sent flying.
They crashed heavily to the ground, blood pouring from their noses, ears—even their eyes.
None of them rose again.
Those farther away were also thrown back, though they managed to survive. Yet their eyes were filled with terror, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
They couldn't comprehend it.
Couldn't understand what kind of power this was.
Nor could they grasp what kind of being stood before them.
The golden figure stepped forward slowly, crossing into the shattered remains of the barrier.
Only then did the shinobi clearly see—
A strange fox mask covered his face.
His gaze swept calmly across the battlefield before settling, at last, upon the Fourth Mizukage.
And as his focus locked in, the suffocating pressure of his chakra intensified even further.
"The Three-Tails' jinchūriki… I've been looking for you for quite some time."
Natsuhiko's words fell quietly—but in their wake, the entire battlefield fell into silence.
The presence he exuded was overwhelming.
The power he displayed was terrifying.
And the meaning behind his words…
Even more chilling.
The Three-Tails' jinchūriki.
His target… was the Three-Tails' jinchūriki.
There was no one present who didn't understand what that meant.
Because that jinchūriki—
Was their Mizukage.
Their Fourth Mizukage.
To target the Fourth Mizukage—openly, in front of so many Kirigakure shinobi—and to say such words without the slightest restraint…
This was no longer a matter of disrespect.
It was outright disregard—for the entire village, for the entire system that upheld Kirigakure itself.
Even if many among the Mist harbored dissatisfaction toward their current Mizukage, that didn't change the reality of his position. He was still their Kage—their highest authority, both in name and in fact.
For Natsuhiko to act and speak in this way was, in essence, a declaration of hostility against the entire structure of Kirigakure.
The gazes of the surrounding shinobi began to shift.
Shock gave way to silence.
Silence hardened into cold resolve—and finally, anger.
The transformation took only a few seconds, yet in that brief span, they had already made their choice.
Natsuhiko watched their expressions change, and inwardly, he let out a faint sigh.
From the moment he stepped forward, this outcome had been inevitable.
If this were Konoha… even if he himself harbored deep dissatisfaction toward Hiruzen Sarutobi, as a shinobi of the village, he would still have no choice but to act in defense of the Hokage's authority—for the sake of the village itself.
To stand by and do nothing in such a situation would be unforgivable.
Not just for him—but for any Konoha shinobi who made the same choice.
"Still… I was prepared for this long ago. In the end, this is all for Konoha's sake anyway."
With that thought, Natsuhiko maintained the same aloof arrogance that defined this persona of his, stepping forward calmly into the crowd.
His gaze didn't linger on the surrounding shinobi at all.
Instead, it remained fixed on Yagura in the distance as he advanced at an unhurried pace.
The Mist shinobi reacted swiftly. They instinctively separated from the Kaguya clan, dividing their forces—some continuing to contain the Kaguya fighters, while the majority turned their full attention toward Natsuhiko.
"So what is it?" Natsuhiko let out a soft chuckle, the pale golden chakra around him growing denser with each passing moment. "As the Three-Tails' jinchūriki, do you not even have the courage to face me yourself?"
He tilted his chin slightly upward, his posture radiating disdain as he looked down upon them all.
"I must admit, I'm disappointed. You intend to send these… insects to deal with me?"
"It seems that those like you, who possess tailed beasts, lack even the basic capacity to be worthy of them."
His voice remained calm, but the pressure he exuded surged to its peak.
All around him, the Mist shinobi reacted differently—some tightening their grip on their kunai, others breaking into cold sweat.
None of them understood why fear had begun to creep into their hearts.
After all, they were facing only a single person.
And yet, that one figure standing there felt like a harbinger of death—a silent reaper waiting to claim lives.
Hundreds of shinobi stood together, yet not one of them felt any sense of security.
Then, in a flash—
Natsuhiko moved.
His body dissolved into a streak of golden light, cutting through the battlefield with a visible trail as he charged straight into the crowd.
"Perfect… I could use a warm-up."
His indifferent voice echoed among them.
He gave them no time to prepare.
No chance to react.
He had already begun his attack.
In an instant, thunderous impacts rang out, accompanied by the rising chorus of screams from the Mist shinobi.
In most battles, numbers could decide victory.
But there were always exceptions.
Uchiha Madara. Senju Hashirama. Senju Tobirama. The Third Raikage. The Fourth Raikage—
All of them were anomalies who could overturn the very concept of numbers.
And jinchūriki, as strategic weapons, existed for that very reason. Once they gained control over their tailed beasts, they became beings who could completely ignore the advantage of numbers.
At this moment, Natsuhiko was no different.
Like a tiger plunging into a flock of sheep, he tore through the battlefield, golden chakra swirling around him.
From the very first instant he struck, countless shinobi were sent flying into the air.
His movements appeared effortless, almost casual.
Yet any shinobi who so much as brushed against him was instantly hurled away, utterly powerless to resist.
His movements were clean, precise, and ruthlessly efficient—every strike aimed directly at a vital point.
One punch landed, and a Mist shinobi was instantly sent flying. Empowered by the Nine-Tails' chakra, the impact rippled through the air behind him, crushing over a dozen of his comrades in the same instant.
With a single step forward, Natsuhiko closed the distance before the opponent's blade could even fall. His fist struck the man squarely in the chest, interrupting the attack mid-motion.
Without pause, he shifted his body with effortless fluidity, evading a sneak attack from behind as if he had seen it coming all along. In the same motion, he seized the attacker's wrist.
A subtle twist of his hand—
The wrist bent at an unnatural angle with a sickening crack.
Using the distorted arm as leverage, Natsuhiko smoothly redirected it, blocking a strike that came from the side.
"Clang!"
A metallic ring echoed out.
The two Mist shinobi suddenly felt a sharp pain in their chests. Before they could even register what had happened, they were both sent flying backward.
The ones behind them fared even worse—caught in the collision, they were knocked off their feet like dominos.
Yet even so, those rear shinobi could still consider themselves fortunate. The two who had been launched had already suffered catastrophic injuries; their ribcages were completely caved in, blood continuously spilling from their mouths.
"What… is this?"
Even amidst the chaos, Kaguya Shigemitsu stood within the battlefield. Though the Kaguya clan was surrounded and cut off, he could still clearly see that golden figure moving through the enemy ranks.
That figure darted through hundreds of Mist shinobi like a ghost, unscathed, while simultaneously inflicting devastating casualties.
Such strength… it was almost incomprehensible.
And yet, it sent a surge of excitement through him.
Still, as the clan head, Shigemitsu was not a man ruled by impulse alone. He understood clearly what he could and could not do.
He did not join forces with the golden figure, nor did he exploit the Mist's distraction to attack alongside him. Because he knew—if he did, there would be no place left for him in Kirigakure.
He was rebelling against the Fourth Mizukage, yes, but his goal was to replace him, not to sever ties with the village entirely.
Acting alongside an unknown outsider against Kirigakure's forces would be a line he could never cross.
He may have worshipped strength, but that did not mean he was completely without reason.
"Did that guy just mention… tailed beasts?"
Shigemitsu narrowed his eyes, recalling Natsuhiko's earlier words.
He didn't fully understand what it meant, but instinct told him it was significant. And more importantly—
Once this was over, there might even be something he could take advantage of.
...
Meanwhile, within the sea of hundreds of shinobi, Natsuhiko moved like a force of nature.
No attack could touch him.
His speed was simply too great.
Even when an attack managed to graze him, the golden chakra surrounding his body absorbed and neutralized it effortlessly.
At this point, he was practically untouchable.
In just a few minutes, countless shinobi had already fallen.
And with his speed so extreme, ranged ninjutsu was nearly useless—there was no way to lock onto him.
Even if it were possible, no one dared risk using large-scale jutsu in the middle of their own formation.
With a single kick, he sent another shinobi flying. In the same breath, he caught a kunai mid-air with his bare hand, redirected it, and drove it straight into the abdomen of a nearby enemy.
Spinning on his heel, he kicked away another attacker.
Then, with light, almost casual movements, he evaded a flurry of desperate strikes before suddenly gripping the throat of the man in front of him.
His hand tightened.
The shinobi clawed at his wrist in panic, struggling for air—but Natsuhiko showed no intention of letting go.
"Too insignificant."
He shook his head faintly, his tone indifferent.
Perhaps because of the sheer terror he had already instilled, fewer and fewer Mist shinobi dared to approach him.
And once again, his gaze drifted toward the Fourth Mizukage.
His grip tightened further.
"Still not going to make a move?" Natsuhiko's calm, emotionless voice echoed across the battlefield as he slowly lifted his head, eyes locking onto Yagura in the distance.
Since Obito and Black Zetsu wanted to disgust him, then naturally—he would return the favor in kind.
Natsuhiko had always been a petty man in that regard. That had never changed.
"Watching your subordinates fight and die for you, yet refusing to shoulder even the responsibility of being a 'Kage'… I have to admit, you've really shown me what a 'Kage' is supposed to be."
He paused briefly, his tone turning colder.
"In that case—"
His grip tightened abruptly.
A sickening crack echoed out.
In the next instant, the Mist shinobi he was holding had his neck violently twisted, his body going limp as life left him on the spot.
The surrounding Mist ninjas' expressions darkened instantly.
Anger surged within them at Natsuhiko's words, but at the same time, those words still pierced them. Unavoidable. Uncomfortable.
Their gazes, almost instinctively, drifted toward Yagura.
Dissatisfaction began to swell rapidly.
They needed an answer.
"Still not going to make a decision?"
Natsuhiko casually dropped the corpse to the ground and let out a faint, almost regretful sigh.
"In that case… I suppose I'll have to get a little more serious. After all, I've already warmed up enough."
His voice was soft—but every single person on the battlefield heard it clearly.
In the next moment, he leapt upward, breaking out of the encirclement of Mist forces.
His hands blurred through hand seals at incredible speed as vast chakra surged within him like a tidal wave.
A golden Nine-Tails head manifested along his arm, and in that instant, a suffocating pressure of chakra began to coalesce into form.
"Th-this chakra… is this guy even human?!"
"That fox head… it looks just like his mask. Is that the Nine-Tails?!"
"Is Konoha attacking us?! Damn it—what is the Fourth Mizukage doing?!"
"We're… going to die…"
As they felt that overwhelming, suffocating power and watched the black sphere forming above him, despair spread through the battlefield like wildfire.
These were shinobi who had walked through countless battles and faced death many times—but this was different.
This was absolute helplessness in the face of death.
And what cut deepest into them was the realization that their Mizukage had remained completely motionless from beginning to end.
...
"Damn bastard!"
Black Zetsu had already appeared beside Obito, his expression twisted with rage.
He knew it clearly now—things had taken a serious turn.
Their original plan had been to bait Natsuhiko, force out his identity, and possibly even make use of him to clean up some of their problems.
But instead, that man had seen through their intentions with terrifying ease—and now he was turning the entire situation back on them.
There were only two choices left.
Either they intervened directly and faced this troublesome opponent head-on…
Or they allowed him to slaughter everyone present.
Because if even a single survivor escaped and revealed that the Mizukage had done nothing today, Obito's control over Kirigakure would immediately begin to collapse.
And once that control wavered, they would have no choice but to abandon the village.
For Black Zetsu, abandoning Kirigakure itself wasn't the issue.
What he couldn't accept was being played so completely.
Meanwhile, Obito's instincts—as if something within him had snapped into place—finally saw through it.
He understood now what the man radiating Nine-Tails chakra was truly aiming for.
For him, Kirigakure could not be abandoned—not yet.
Not until his revenge was complete. Not until the village had been reduced to ruin.
He couldn't leave now. He absolutely couldn't accept it.
But that bastard had left him no choice.
He had thought he could control everything. Instead, he found he controlled nothing.
Even his arrangements were just tools for others to exploit.
"…Looks like there's no other choice."
Obito let out a long, heavy sigh. In the exposed Sharingan in his eye socket, the three tomoe began to spin.
In the next instant, the three tomoe merged together, forming the distinctive pattern of a Mangekyō Sharingan.
"…Yeah. At this point, there's no other choice."
Black Zetsu sighed in resignation before speaking again, his tone turning serious.
"Here's my advice—exchange a few blows first, then immediately shift into Tailed Beast transformation."
"I know."
Obito nodded. He understood exactly what Black Zetsu meant.
He needed a reason for his delayed action—that reason being preparation for tailed beast transformation.
Truthfully, forcing Yagura into tailed beast form didn't require all that trouble.
But a little performance was still necessary; at the very least, it would reduce unnecessary suspicion.
With that thought, chakra began to surge violently from Obito's body.
At the same moment, Yagura's chakra inside the battlefield shifted dramatically. He leapt out of the crowd, shooting straight toward Natsuhiko at high speed.
Natsuhiko, who had already been fully focused on the battlefield, immediately caught the change.
From the moment Yagura's chakra suddenly erupted, he knew it—Obito had finally reached his limit.
He couldn't help but let out a faint sigh.
Originally, he had genuinely intended to throw a Tailed Beast Bomb straight into the Mist shinobi formation just to see what kind of devastation it could cause against ordinary ninja.
After all, he had never truly witnessed the destructive range of a Tailed Beast Bomb against massed troops before.
Of course, even if he had done it, he wouldn't have wiped everyone out. He still needed survivors to escape—people who would carry the story back and thoroughly disgust Obito once again.
But since Obito had intervened, that plan was no longer necessary.
Still, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. His objective had always included obtaining Three-Tails chakra anyway, and now that Obito had stepped in personally, things had actually become more convenient for him.
Without a word of hesitation, Yagura appeared directly in front of Natsuhiko with a Body Flicker Technique.
His weapon slashed through the air, carving out a curved arc directly in front of the incoming black Tailed Beast Bomb.
"Water Release: Water Mirror Technique!"
The arc instantly solidified into a reflective water surface under the surge of chakra.
Seeing this, Natsuhiko immediately dispersed the condensed black chakra in his hand.
The Water Mirror Technique was something he was well aware of—it was practically as troublesome as the Uchiha clan's fan (Gunbai) in terms of deflection ability.
Even though he wasn't entirely certain whether it could actually reflect a Tailed Beast Bomb, caution was always the better option.
At this moment, Yagura was like a machine—cold, emotionless, devoid of any trace of humanity.
In this state, he likely wouldn't feel pain at all. However, at the same time, he also wouldn't be able to fully utilize refined techniques or adaptive combat skill.
After all, being controlled by someone else meant his technical finesse and responsiveness were essentially nonexistent.
The only thing he could truly do was unleash raw power to its fullest extent.
"For example… the power of a Tailed Beast."
Natsuhiko dodged Yagura's attack in an instant, then stepped forward without hesitation. A kunai silently appeared in his hand.
Shnk—!
The blade pierced cleanly into Yagura's abdomen without the slightest deviation.
Yet Yagura still stared at him blankly, completely unmoving, his expression unchanged.
And then—
"BOOM!"
Chakra erupted from his body as if something had been ignited inside him.
Three dark crimson tails burst out from his back.
At the same time, that same ominous chakra began to spread across his entire body, coating him like armor.
"This is Tailed Beast Transformation… so that's how it is!"
"No wonder the Fourth Mizukage hasn't been fighting directly—he's been preparing for Tailed Beast transformation all along!"
"The Fourth Mizukage must be going all out. That's why he prepared for so long."
"In that case, we should also give it our all! Let's help the Mizukage kill this damn guy!"
"Everyone, go! Together!"
The Kage was the symbol of an entire village—an irreplaceable existence.
When Yagura had stood by and watched as Mist shinobi were slaughtered without intervening, their morale had already plunged into the abyss.
But now that he had finally joined the battle, their spirits had noticeably recovered. In fact, they had already begun instinctively rationalizing his actions, convincing themselves that this was all part of his strategy. And with renewed confidence, they prepared to press the attack once more—this time in coordination with their Mizukage to eliminate the enemy before them.
However, reality was far less optimistic.
Natsuhiko had to admit that their coordinated assault did create a certain degree of inconvenience for him.
But only to a limited extent.
After all, he was constantly engaging Yagura at close range, and the Mist shinobi were clearly wary of accidentally hitting their own Mizukage. That hesitation alone severely restricted their effectiveness.
"Smart," Natsuhiko said calmly as he caught Yagura's arm mid-strike. "Trying to use my hands to kill your own people? You're overthinking it."
Yagura gave no response.
Under Obito's control, he forcefully shoved forward, then unleashed a palm strike straight at Natsuhiko.
That strike carried a strange, ominous force, forcing Natsuhiko to step back.
However, during that brief retreat, several Mist shinobi had already closed in behind him.
Natsuhiko's chakra stirred slightly.
A faint golden surge swept out toward one of the shinobi behind him.
In the next instant, he swapped positions with a substitution technique—just as Yagura's palm slammed down.
"Agh—!"
The struck shinobi let out a miserable scream, coughing up a mouthful of blood as his body was sent flying.
Almost instantly, the area struck by Yagura's palm began to grotesquely sprout coral-like growths. His body stiffened on the spot—clearly, he was already on the brink of death.
Coral Palm.
One of the signature techniques of the Fourth Mizukage—or more accurately, a power derived from the Three-Tails.
Natsuhiko's judgment was now confirmed.
Obito was fully maximizing the Three-Tails' power.
And more importantly, the beast's chakra was continuing to escalate.
"Going for full Tailed Beast transformation, huh?"
Natsuhiko nodded to himself internally, then immediately moved to eliminate the Mist shinobi still closing in on him.
But at that moment—
He felt it.
A familiar surge of power.
He turned his head sharply.
Yagura, now fully cloaked in dark red chakra, slowly raised his head.
At his mouth, a black sphere of chakra began to rapidly condense.
Natsuhiko knew that sight all too well.
A Tailed Beast Bomb.
"Now this is getting interesting."
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
With a flick of his hand, the last Mist shinobi beside him fell.
At the same time, black chakra began to gather in his right hand as well, spinning and compressing at incredible speed.
The shape… the pressure… the nature of it—
It was identical to Yagura's.
By the time both sides had finished their preparations, Yagura had already completed the final stage of condensation.
Natsuhiko tilted his head slightly.
And in the next instant—
He vanished.
A flash of golden light cut through the battlefield like a meteor, appearing directly beside Yagura.
A force of pure destruction began to erupt between them.