The instant the two Tailed Beast Bombs collided at such close range, a blinding white light tore through the night.
It erupted outward in every direction, swallowing the darkness whole and transforming the deep, heavy night into something as bright as day.
"…What is this?!"
The sudden brilliance—and the suffocating pressure radiating from it—left every Mist shinobi present frozen in place.
None of them were weak. Anyone standing here held at least the rank of a capable chunin, and not a single one was ignorant enough to fail to recognize true power when they saw it. They had already clashed fiercely with Natsuhiko earlier, and each of them knew all too well just how terrifying the man wreathed in golden chakra truly was.
Even when the Fourth Mizukage had made his move, they hadn't felt any real confidence.
Otherwise, they wouldn't have chosen to stay behind and assist him in facing Natsuhiko together.
It wasn't that they didn't understand the risk—that they might become little more than a burden. But they had no better choice.
Earlier, when they saw Natsuhiko break away from the group and summon that massive fox head to gather that ominous black energy, suspicions had already begun to form in their minds.
Still, those suspicions had felt too absurd to believe. Yes, Konoha was their sworn enemy, but surely it couldn't have gone this far… could it?
Now, however, all doubt had vanished.
The moment the Fourth Mizukage began frantically condensing his own Tailed Beast Bomb, they understood with chilling certainty—
The one they faced was the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki.
"But… why does his state look completely different from the Fourth Mizukage's?"
The question echoed through every mind, yet none of them had the luxury of pondering it any longer.
There was only one thought left.
Run.
If they stayed, they would be obliterated by the violent clash of those two overwhelming forces. There would be no survival—no chance of enduring something so far beyond their reach.
This wasn't power they could comprehend.
And it certainly wasn't power they could resist.
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion shattered the air, and the earth began to tremble violently beneath their feet.
The white light surged to its peak, and the expanding shockwave devoured those too slow to escape.
Some shinobi reacted quickly, forming hand seals and unleashing defensive jutsu in a desperate attempt to withstand the blast.
But many others didn't even have the chance to understand what was happening before they were reduced to dust.
Others still seemed unharmed on the surface after being struck—yet collapsed soundlessly to the ground, never to rise again.
Their bodies were intact.
But their internal organs had already been completely destroyed.
There was no hope left for them.
Scenes of such horror played out across the battlefield without pause, repeating again and again in a merciless cycle.
And the devastation didn't remain confined to this single area.
The shock and tremors spread throughout the entire Hidden Mist Village.
Countless civilians halted whatever they were doing, fear tightening their chests.
Many shinobi abandoned their missions mid-task, turning their gazes toward the distant source of the disturbance.
No one knew what had happened—but in a village as turbulent as this, nothing felt impossible.
While ordinary residents hurriedly shut their doors and windows in panic, the Mist's shinobi reacted in the opposite way, racing toward the epicenter of the disaster.
At last, the daylight-like brilliance began to fade.
What remained… was ruin.
The Kaguya clan's homes had collapsed entirely. Trees stood stripped of their leaves, reduced to bare trunks wreathed in flickering flames.
Everything in sight had been utterly destroyed.
Even the small lake not far away had been completely drained, its waters utterly vaporized without a trace.
The apocalyptic scene struck the Mist shinobi who had just arrived like a hammer to the chest, and it shook the survivors to their very core. Everything before their eyes had long since surpassed the limits of their imagination, to the point that even mustering the courage to stand there felt like a struggle.
"What… is that thing? Human or monster?"
"So this is the power of a Tailed Beast? The power of a jinchūriki?"
"Can… can a shinobi really do something like this…?"
"Damn it, why does something like that even exist?!"
Having witnessed such a close-range clash of Tailed Beast Bombs, countless surviving Mist shinobi found their minds teetering on the edge of collapse.
Strictly speaking, when Konoha once faced the Nine-Tails, they too had been terrified by the destructive force of a Tailed Beast Bomb.
But Konoha had Natsuhiko—and Minato Namikaze.
One had blocked the attack outright with Wood Release, while the other had simply warped it away through space-time ninjutsu. Because of that, Konoha's forces had not suffered catastrophic losses, nor had they been driven to psychological ruin.
But now, the battle between Natsuhiko and Yagura Karatachi was different. Even if the scale of the Tailed Beast Bombs they used wasn't at its absolute maximum, a Tailed Beast Bomb was still a Tailed Beast Bomb—and at such close range, its destructive power was beyond comprehension.
It could be said that this collision had unfolded directly before the eyes of these Mist shinobi, and the devastation it caused was immeasurable.
As the smoke gradually cleared, Natsuhiko stood quietly where he was, his body still radiating that terrifying pale golden chakra.
Only now, that chakra felt even denser—more overwhelming than before.
His entire form was encased within the massive outline of a fox's head, and under its protection, he remained completely unscathed.
In stark contrast, Yagura's condition was… difficult to describe.
He had been blasted dozens of meters away by the collision. Though his body was still cloaked in that dark red chakra, his presence had grown noticeably weak.
Even in this state, it was hard to tell whether he had sustained visible injuries—but the frailty in his aura spoke louder than anything else.
It told everyone, without the need for words, just how dire his situation truly was.
In that clash with Natsuhiko, he had been utterly, decisively overpowered.
And that pitiful state was yet another reason the Mist shinobi found their spirits breaking.
"Is this all you've got?"
Natsuhiko slowly drew back the Nine-Tails' power within him before speaking, his tone carrying a faint trace of arrogance.
"How disappointing. Just as I thought… you're just as insignificant as the rest.
It seems you're not suited to wield the power of a Tailed Beast after all. In that case…"
As his voice trailed off, Natsuhiko began to walk forward.
His pace was slow, unhurried—but each step felt like it carried an immense, suffocating pressure that bore down on everyone present.
More and more Mist shinobi gathered around, yet not a single one dared to make a move.
They could only watch helplessly as Natsuhiko—this monster bathed in golden chakra—approached their Mizukage.
Buzz—
At that moment, however, a kunai tore through the air with a sharp whistling sound and embedded itself directly in front of Natsuhiko.
He paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He hadn't expected that anyone would still have the courage to attack him.
Lifting his gaze slightly, he saw an elderly bald man step out from the crowd.
The old man gripped a staff tightly in his hand, his cold eyes fixed firmly on Natsuhiko.
...
"That cursed brat!"
Not far from the battlefield, within a stretch of scorched earth, furious curses rang out again and again.
It was Obito.
Too many unexpected turns had unfolded in this battle, and because he was controlling Yagura from a distance, he simply couldn't bring his full strength to bear.
No matter whether it was his own strength or Yagura Karatachi's, Obito had long since realized their limits. That was why he hadn't hesitated to push things further—choosing to rely on full Tailed Beast transformation as the foundation of his strategy.
He had intended to follow Black Zetsu's plan: probe carefully at first, gradually close the distance, and then, at the decisive moment, completely unleash the Three-Tails.
But Natsuhiko's control over Tailed Beast power had far exceeded anything he had anticipated.
At first, Obito had assumed that Natsuhiko's state was nothing more than a cloak of Tailed Beast chakra—something akin to a superficial enhancement, powerful perhaps, but ultimately limited.
Yet as he watched Natsuhiko casually manipulate a Tailed Beast Bomb—something that even he himself had to exert considerable effort to produce—he realized just how wrong he had been.
This had already gone far beyond his expectations.
That attack, no larger than a Rasengan in size, carried a destructive force that not only rivaled his own Tailed Beast Bomb but might even have surpassed it.
The sight overturned everything Obito thought he understood.
For a fleeting moment, he even began to question whether this—what Natsuhiko was doing—was the true form a jinchūriki's combat style should take.
Not the crude method he had always known, where the Tailed Beast was released and controlled like a weapon…
…but this seamless, terrifying integration of its power.
Regardless, the suicidal, point-blank clash Natsuhiko had initiated had completely thrown him off balance.
His original plan had been simple: fire off a Tailed Beast Bomb, then immediately transition into full Three-Tails transformation and overwhelm Natsuhiko with brute force.
But now, everything had gone wrong.
Yagura, severely injured from the impact, had begun to falter. His consciousness was fighting back violently against Obito's control.
At the same time, the Three-Tails itself was resisting, lashing out with ferocious defiance. The damned creature clearly had no intention of remaining a puppet.
This forced Obito to pour even more of his ocular power into maintaining control, splitting his focus as he struggled to suppress both Yagura's will and the Tailed Beast's rebellion.
If not for the modifications his body had undergone—if not for the power of Hashirama Senju flowing through him—he would have collapsed under the strain already.
And yet, the one responsible for all of this seemed utterly unconcerned with the chaos he had caused.
Natsuhiko kept advancing.
Step by step.
Relentless.
That alone was enough to push Obito closer and closer to the edge of desperation.
Fortunately, someone had arrived—someone Obito found both irritating and deeply detestable.
Genji.
His appearance bought Obito a sliver of breathing room, preventing him from being crushed outright under the triple burden threatening to overwhelm him.
"It seems that man is even more dangerous than we imagined," Black Zetsu remarked quietly, unable to suppress a faint sigh.
"And I never expected that, after all these years, someone would be able to wield the power of a Tailed Beast to such an extent."
"…What do you mean?" Obito asked, gritting his teeth.. "You've seen someone like him before?"
"Long ago… there was someone who could do the same."
Black Zetsu immediately realized he had said too much, but he recovered just as quickly.
"These are memories from Madara. I'll explain everything once this is over. For now, focus on dealing with him."
Obito gave a stiff nod, and the Mangekyō Sharingan in his eyes began to spin even faster.
Seeing this, Black Zetsu quietly let out a breath of relief.
After witnessing that mysterious figure, he couldn't help but feel that perhaps this world truly still harbored beings akin to her.
Or, at the very least, individuals who had reached—or were about to reach—the absolute limits of what a shinobi could achieve.
The last time he had seen someone capable of wielding Tailed Beast power to this degree…
had been Asura Ōtsutsuki—and those who inherited his bloodline.
Yet Black Zetsu was certain of one thing.
The man before them was neither a Senju nor a descendant of Asura.
Because within Natsuhiko, he could not sense even the slightest trace of Yang Release.
...
"May I ask who you are… and what your purpose is in coming to the Hidden Mist Village?"
Genji spoke in a cold, indifferent tone, yet the moment he appeared, it was as if every Mist shinobi had found their anchor.
They all knew who he was—this was the Elder, a man whose authority stood on equal footing with the Mizukage himself.
Whether it was those who had just rushed to the scene or the ones who had narrowly survived the devastation, they instinctively gathered around him. The newly arrived shinobi, in particular, were already tensed, their bodies coiled and ready to strike at a moment's notice.
"Me?"
Natsuhiko cast a brief glance at Yagura Karatachi, whose chakra was surging wildly once more, silently gauging what his next move might be. Only then did he shift his gaze back to Genji.
"I'm just a nobody," he replied casually. "Though I have to admit, I didn't expect the Hidden Mist Village to mobilize such a grand force just to deal with me."
"If someone like you is a nobody," Genji said, shaking his head faintly, "then what does that make the rest of us?"
His voice remained calm, but his eyes turned sharp as blades.
"The power you wield appears to be that of the Nine-Tails from Konoha. Should I take it, then, that you are a shinobi of Konoha?"
He paused for a fraction of a second before continuing, his tone growing colder.
"And yet, your target is our Mizukage. Are you trying to ignite a Fourth Great Ninja War?"
This was no empty accusation.
If the Hidden Mist declared war on Konoha, Konoha's defenses would inevitably shift toward its eastern borders, leaving other fronts exposed. That, in turn, would tempt every nation that harbored resentment or greed toward the Land of Fire.
And when hatred and ambition intertwined, the result would be inevitable—
another great war.
Yet Natsuhiko showed no concern at all. He understood perfectly well that this was merely a test, and he had never been one to shy away from speaking the truth—even under a false identity.
"Oh? Is that so?" he said with a soft chuckle, nodding as if in sudden realization. "Then I suppose I am a Konoha shinobi."
He smiled faintly, almost mockingly.
"In that case, by all means—declare war on Konoha. We'll be waiting."
"...It seems your intentions are far more complicated than they appear," Genji murmured with a quiet sigh.
The probing had been intentional, but in truth, he had already reached a far more certain conclusion.
Yes, the power Natsuhiko used resembled that of Konoha's Nine-Tails. But Genji was no fool. Even with the Land of Water's isolation hindering the flow of information, he knew one thing for certain—
Konoha, in its current state, craved peace. It was still recovering from the wounds of the Third Great Ninja War.
Which meant there were only two possibilities: either Konoha had lost control of its Tailed Beast… or this man had obtained that power from some unknown source.
And his purpose here…
was unmistakable.
The Three-Tails.
The Mizukage himself.
"No matter what your goal may be…"
Though countless thoughts had already passed through his mind, Genji's expression remained as calm and unyielding as ever. Slowly, he raised the staff in his hand and called out in a clear, commanding voice:
"Shinobi of the Hidden Mist—do you remember the oath you swore when you first became ninja?"
"We do!" came the unified roar.
In every hidden village, a shinobi's first oath was the same: to protect their home with everything they had.
"Then do you remember what attitude we must hold when facing our enemies?" Genji continued, his voice rising.
"We do!" The answer came louder this time, echoing across the ruined battlefield.
"And do you remember our pride?"
"We do!"
"And do you remember what must be done when facing the enemy?!"
"We do! We do! We do!"
With just a few questions—spoken without fiery theatrics or exaggerated passion—Genji ignited something within them.
The atmosphere shifted.
A bloodthirsty fury, seething anger, and an unyielding resolve to face death head-on surged through the Mist shinobi, rising like a tide that could no longer be held back.
Natsuhiko watched everything unfold in silence, then let out a faint sigh as he shook his head.
This… was exactly why he had been so cautious before.
Once you drew the full attention of an entire hidden village, the outcome was all but predetermined. Unless one possessed strength on the level of Madara Uchiha or Hashirama Senju, acting recklessly would only lead to disaster.
"Kill him!"
Someone suddenly roared, and in the next instant, the gathered shinobi forces erupted into motion. A thunder of battle cries filled the air as they surged forward, charging straight at Natsuhiko like a tidal wave.
This time, however, they had cast aside all hesitation.
Perhaps it was because they believed that, in his current state, the Fourth Mizukage could withstand the impact of their techniques—but whatever the reason, countless jutsu were unleashed without restraint, flooding toward Natsuhiko in a chaotic storm as chakra fluctuations spiked wildly across the battlefield.
Seeing this, Natsuhiko couldn't help but frown.
This situation was far from favorable.
He had to admit, his ability to provoke trouble seemed almost uncanny. Back in the Hidden Sand Village, he had managed to attract the pursuit of an entire force. Now, under a different identity in the Hidden Mist, the scale of the trouble he'd stirred up was even greater.
Of course, he knew that the number of shinobi here likely didn't even reach a thousand.
After all, the Land of Water was an island nation. Its forces had to be spread across the coastline to guard against sudden incursions. On top of that, Obito's isolation policies had stationed many shinobi on patrol around the borders, leaving fewer permanently stationed within the village itself.
Even so, this was no small number.
More importantly, he didn't have access to something like Susanoo in this identity.
And using Wood Release here was out of the question as well.
"Did you forget about me?"
At that moment, the young Nine-Tails' voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
"Don't forget—I specialize in dealing with large groups like this."
"That may be true," Natsuhiko replied with a quiet sigh, even as he vanished in a blur, using the Body Flicker Technique to evade the dense barrage of incoming jutsu. "But I don't think letting you out right now is a good idea."
"That would make you too obvious, and I wouldn't be able to maintain my current state. More importantly… if you face that damn Uchiha Obito directly, there's no guarantee you won't be controlled as well."
"Who said anything about letting me out?"
The little Nine-Tails sounded almost dismissive, its tone tinged with faint annoyance as it spoke within his mind.
"Do you really think I haven't improved at all?"
"…You mean—"
Natsuhiko's eyes lit up slightly at those words.
"The second stage of the chakra mode?"
To fight alongside the Nine-Tails without fully releasing it—to manifest its power externally—would require at least the second stage of the chakra mode.
And that was precisely where Natsuhiko had been stuck.
Because of that limitation, whenever he faced large numbers of enemies, he had no choice but to rely on the most practical—but also the most exhausting—combination of taijutsu and ninjutsu.
Originally, he had planned to use Earth Release techniques to deal with the Mist shinobi.
But now that the Nine-Tails had spoken up… there was no reason not to try.
"Yes, the second stage," the little Nine-Tails confirmed. "But it won't last long."
Even as it spoke, it had already begun guiding chakra within him.
"By my estimate, you can hold it for about ten minutes. But I suggest finishing this in five."
"If you manifest me, the chakra consumption will increase significantly. End it early, and I can conserve enough energy for you to maintain your current state afterward."
"I see."
Dodging another incoming attack, Natsuhiko drove a kunai into a Mist shinobi's back with ruthless precision before speaking again.
"Then let's begin. I'd really like to see what this second stage of the Nine-Tails' chakra mode is capable of."
As his words fell, he leapt into the air, bringing his hands together as vast amounts of chakra surged and gathered in an instant.
"Earth Release: Earth-Style Rampart!"
Under Natsuhiko's control, the ground split apart as a massive earthen wall surged upward, its surface carved into the shape of a fox's face.
The towering structure rose directly in front of him, forming an enormous barrier that shielded him from the incoming assault.
The moment the Mist shinobi saw this, their spirits lifted.
To them, this was a clear sign—the enemy was faltering, forced onto the defensive.
"Don't let up! Break through that damn wall together!"
A Mist jonin shouted loudly, his hands already weaving through seals at blinding speed.
"Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet!"
"Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet!"
"Water Release: Great Exploding Water Colliding Wave!"
"…!"
In an instant, countless jutsu roared toward the earthen wall, crashing against it in a relentless barrage.
But unlike the others, Genji did not share their optimism.
Though age had eroded his physical strength, his insight remained as sharp as ever. And what he saw told him something was very, very wrong.
The mysterious man wielding the Nine-Tails' power did not look like someone on the verge of collapse.
If anything… the chakra within him was becoming even more dangerous.
A realization struck Genji like a bolt of lightning.
That man wasn't defending.
He was preparing something far more terrifying.
His expression changed instantly, and he was about to warn the others—
But it was already too late.
The earthen wall suddenly collapsed, crumbling apart in a thunderous crash.
Behind it stood the same young man, still cloaked in golden chakra.
Yet something about him… had changed.
"…This feeling… it's incredible." Natsuhiko slowly clenched his fist, sensing the transformation within his body as he murmured under his breath.
Upon entering the second stage of the Nine-Tails' chakra mode, his appearance had subtly shifted.
The golden chakra still enveloped him, but now it formed a more refined, streamlined cloak—something almost regal in its shape and presence.
And curiously, the fox mask on his face remained intact, lending him an even deeper air of mystery.
More importantly…
This second stage of the Nine-Tails' chakra mode stood on equal footing with the power of the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
There was no need to elaborate on just how overwhelming that power was.
Previously, Natsuhiko's strength—if compared to the Uchiha's ocular abilities—had existed somewhere between the Mangekyō and the Eternal Mangekyō. It didn't carry the same risk of blindness, but it hadn't fully reached that ultimate level either.
But now…
Everything was different.
With the true awakening of the second stage, his speed, his strength—every aspect of his physical ability—had surged to a terrifying new height.
His perception, too, had sharpened dramatically. It felt as though he could effortlessly sense the malice and goodwill within others.
And most importantly of all—
He could now freely wield the Nine-Tails' full power.
Which meant he could manifest its chakra, shaping it into a tangible form… controlling it just as one would command Susanoo itself.
"…What a fitting symmetry."
Watching the countless jutsu hurtling toward him, Natsuhiko allowed a faint smile to form.
"Madara had Susanoo, and Hashirama had his Wood Golem. Sasuke has Susanoo, and Naruto has the Nine-Tails' chakra mode…"
"And now…"
His smile deepened ever so slightly.
"I have all of it."
In that instant, the golden chakra around him surged violently.
A massive Nine-Tails head materialized before him, roaring as it took shape.
Boom!
Countless jutsu slammed into the construct, yet not a single one managed to harm Natsuhiko in the slightest.
And as he continued to channel more chakra, the Nine-Tails manifestation grew larger and larger.
"ROOOOAR—!"
With a deafening cry that shook the heavens, a colossal fox rose to its full height—standing upright, its nine tails swaying behind it like a storm made flesh.
It stood there, fully formed before the Mist shinobi.
A living embodiment of overwhelming power.
"What… what is that?!"
"Damn it—is that the Nine-Tails?!"
"Why is it standing upright? What the hell is going on?!"
"What kind of monster is that?!"
The Mist shinobi stared in stunned disbelief at the towering fox, more than a dozen meters tall, their minds once again thrown into chaos.
When they first engaged Natsuhiko, they had already considered the possibility that he might transform into a Tailed Beast. After all, facing a jinchūriki, such a development was only natural.
But the state Natsuhiko had displayed earlier bore little resemblance to anything they understood about Tailed Beast transformations. That unfamiliarity had given rise to a fragile, unspoken hope—one born from sheer unwillingness to accept that something like the Nine-Tails could truly appear within their village.
Now, that illusion had been completely shattered.
This… was unmistakably a form of Tailed Beast manifestation.
"Don't panic! This Nine-Tails looks smaller than usual!"
"Maybe it's not as powerful as we think—stay calm!"
"Don't let it intimidate you! Remember what we're protecting—pull yourselves together!"
To their credit, the Mist shinobi recovered quickly. This was their home, their village—there was no room for retreat.
If they faltered here, they would lose everything.
...
In the distance, Obito stood frozen, staring at the scene in shock. He was on the verge of completing his preparations, yet Natsuhiko's transformation left him utterly bewildered.
Was this… really a Tailed Beast?
Was this what Tailed Beast transformation was supposed to look like?
The sight felt eerily familiar—uncannily close to Susanoo.
Obito himself couldn't use Susanoo; without a complete pair of Sharingan, it was beyond his reach. But that didn't mean he was ignorant of it. As a member of the Uchiha clan, he understood all too well what that ultimate power represented.
And now, watching someone replicate something so similar using the Nine-Tails' power…
How could he not be shaken?
Beside him, Black Zetsu remained silent.
At this point, he had nothing left to say.
To control the Nine-Tails' power to such an extent—wasn't that something only the descendants of Asura were capable of?
He was now completely convinced that this world still hid other wielders of Tailed Beast power… and that those individuals undoubtedly carried secrets far deeper than they appeared.
Secrets that might even be tied to his mother's lineage.
"…What do we do now?" After a long pause, Obito finally spoke, his voice low. "Do we keep attacking as planned?"
"…We try," Black Zetsu replied with a quiet sigh, his gaze turning cold and calculating. "That man's target is likely the Three-Tails. If it comes to it… have Yagura Karatachi self-destruct."
"But if we do that—"
"Forget about taking revenge on the Hidden Mist for now. Until we have results, our priority is securing the Three-Tails."
Obito fell silent, staring at him for a long moment before finally gritting his teeth and nodding.
He knew it was true.
There would always be another chance to deal with the Hidden Mist.
But if the Three-Tails fell into Natsuhiko's hands… they might never recover it again.
With that thought, Obito began gathering chakra with renewed urgency, preparing for one final gamble.
...
Meanwhile, on the battlefield, Natsuhiko had already begun his rampage.
Controlling the golden fox giant, standing over ten meters tall, he tore through the ranks of the Mist shinobi like a force of nature.
The size was deliberate.
Natsuhiko could feel it clearly—if he pushed further, he could create a fox dozens, even hundreds of meters tall.
But the chakra cost would be far too great.
For a first attempt at wielding this power, keeping it within a manageable range was the wiser choice.
With a violent sweep of its tail, the ground caved in, leaving behind a massive crater. Its foreclaws lashed out, tearing deep fissures into the earth with terrifying ease.
Under the pale glow of the moon and the cover of thick mist, the Nine-Tails' roar echoed wildly through the Hidden Mist Village.
Each movement of its massive form brought death.
With every strike, countless shinobi fell.
The Mist's forces were being consumed at an alarming rate.
They fought back, of course—they had to. Ninjutsu, taijutsu, every method they could muster was thrown against the towering fox.
But none of it mattered.
Their attacks struck its massive form without effect, failing to leave even the faintest ripple.
The shinobi of the Hidden Mist did not fear death—especially when driven by the resolve to protect their home.
But even so…
There were limits.
Limits to what the human heart could endure.
And even for shinobi—who stood far beyond ordinary people in that regard—
those limits still existed.
...
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