Chapter 36 — Konoha Thunder Flash
The war between the Fire Nation's Konohagakure and the Earth Nation's Iwagakure had been smoldering for a month, but what began as border clashes had escalated into something far more catastrophic. In both scale and savagery, the conflict had surpassed anything seen since the first sparks of hostility ignited.
Now, the battlefield burned without restraint.
The struggle between Konoha and Iwa had entered a fevered crescendo—ambushes met with counter-ambushes, fortresses seized and lost in the span of days, entire platoons erased beneath collapsing terrain and roaring jutsu. The earth itself seemed to groan beneath the weight of endless combat.
And the flames did not stop there.
The Wind Nation's Sunagakure had joined the fray, calculating its own gains in the chaos. The Lightning Nation's Kumogakure moved like a predator circling weakened prey. Even the distant Water Nation's Kirigakure, shrouded in mist and secrecy, extended its blades into the conflict.
With all Five Great Nations drawn in, the Third Great Ninja War had undeniably reached its middle stage.
The entire shinobi world had become a chessboard.
Take Konoha as an example. While its forces clashed head-on with Iwa's powerful northwest offensive, the village could not afford to relax its vigilance in the southwest, where Suna might strike without warning. To the northeast, Kumogakure observed every movement, waiting for weakness.
The Hokage's war room never slept.
Yet Konoha was not alone in such peril. Every nation bore similar burdens. Iwagakure, even as it pressed hard against the Land of Fire, had to divert forces to fend off Sunagakure's incursions. The price was steep—territory soaked in blood, resources dwindling, veteran shinobi buried in unmarked graves.
War devoured everything.
Once begun, it drained manpower, supplies, morale—unless compensated by conquest or strategic gain, the conflict became a grinding abyss that swallowed nations whole.
Amid this chaos, Obuya and Uchiha Shisui had completed the Hokage's trials. No longer observers or auxiliary blades, they were now fully integrated into the war effort—true combatants standing face to face with elite shinobi from every land.
At first, their missions had been simple: eliminate a single target, disrupt a supply chain, extract intelligence.
Months later, they were wiping out entire squads.
Their growth was measured in corpses. Their progress written in blood.
Smoke veiled the skies. Flames consumed forests that had stood for centuries. The smell of charred wood and scorched earth clung permanently to the air.
Within three months, the Obuya–Shisui duo had crossed battlefields by the thousands. They infiltrated deep behind enemy lines, striking command posts and high-value targets. No mission was deemed too dangerous; no assignment was refused.
Every challenge sent against them was crushed.
Gradually, whispers of their names spread across the five nations.
"Konoha Thunder Flash."
"Shisui of the Instant Movement."
Six months into the war, they were assigned a mission that would cement their infamy across the shinobi world: the total annihilation of a squad composed entirely of Jonin.
They succeeded.
From that moment on, their reputations no longer required confirmation.
In Kumogakure, another elite duo earned similar renown—Killer Bee and Ai. Both pairs carved undefeated legends through the chaos of war, becoming symbols of their respective nations' military might.
---
Half a year later.
Deep within one of the most ancient forests of the shinobi world, towering trees stretched endlessly toward the sky. Their trunks were thicker than a grown man's torso, bark scarred by age and weather. Dense foliage filtered the sunlight into fragmented shafts of green.
A group of roughly a dozen shinobi leapt silently from branch to branch.
Their landings were soft. Their breathing controlled. Every motion deliberate.
Leading them were two specially selected Jonin, experts in stealth and infiltration. Their mission was daring: slip behind Konoha's thousand-man army and ambush a supply convoy. If successful, they could disrupt logistics and tilt the balance of power in favor of Kirigakure against the Fire Nation.
But the task was anything but simple.
Each member of the squad moved with tension coiled in their limbs.
They all feared encountering the same nightmare.
"Hurry," the leading Jonin whispered sharply without turning his head. "The destination is just ahead. The shinobi guarding the supplies shouldn't be too strong. Once we strike, we retreat immediately—leave no trace. Like ghosts."
Behind him followed six Chunin—recently promoted from Genin. For them, this mission was both opportunity and trial. Kirigakure's higher command had deliberately assigned them to this operation as a test of courage and composure under pressure. Success would harden them. It would forge them into future pillars of the village.
Failure…
"C-Captain… l-look…"
A trembling voice broke formation.
One of the young Chunin pointed ahead with shaking fingers.
The Jonin turned.
His pupils shrank.
A streak of blue lightning tore through the forest canopy, arcing between trees with unnatural speed.
It was not random lightning.
"Konoha… Thunder Flash."
All color drained from the Jonin's face.
"If the Thunder Flash is here," he breathed, "Shisui must be nearby."
His voice rose into a barked command.
"Abandon the mission! Scatter and flee!"
The second Jonin did not hesitate. He spun and launched himself in the opposite direction.
The six Chunin followed in panicked disarray.
Kirigakure's high command had issued strict instructions: unless you were a Jonin approaching Hokage-level combat power, the moment you saw blue lightning, you were to abandon your objective immediately.
Survival took priority.
The other great nations had conducted thorough analyses on the "Thunder Flash & Shisui of the Body Flicker" duo. Their joint conclusion was chillingly consistent—unless one possessed near-Hokage-level strength, defeat was impossible.
Even elite Jonin, the rare pinnacle of a village's military force, were advised to flee on sight.
And elite Jonin were scarce. Even in Konohagakure, the strongest of the Five Great Nations, their number never exceeded twenty.
Against this duo, even they could only hope to escape.
---
The blue lightning halted mid-air, condensing upon the branch of a towering tree.
A young man stood there, Konoha's forehead protector glinting faintly.
Obuya.
Moments later, space behind him rippled, and Uchiha Shisui materialized soundlessly.
"Standard procedure," Obuya said calmly. "Split up."
Before the final syllable faded, he vanished in a flash of electricity.
Shisui was already gone.
---
"Run! Your lives depend on it!"
The Jonin guiding one of the retreating groups forced steadiness into his voice.
But then— A burst of blue light flickered ahead.
Obuya appeared directly in their path making the forest seemed to fall silent.
The six newly promoted Chunin froze, staring at the young man before them. He looked barely older than they were.
Yet to them, he was a walking calamity.
The Jonin gritted his teeth.
"I'll hold him off. Scatter!"
His hands formed seals rapidly.
"Water Release: Hidden Mist Technique!"
Thick mist erupted outward, swallowing the trees, obscuring vision, muffling sound. The Jonin had no illusions of victory. He had no intention of trading his life in futile combat. The mist was cover—nothing more.
A chance.
A single chance for the children to escape.
But through the fog— A shape streaked forward.
An electric hound, sculpted entirely from crackling blue current, tore through the mist like a predator scenting blood. It sliced the vapor apart as though the fog were nothing more than paper.
The Jonin barely had time to widen his eyes before the lightning beast slammed into his chest.
The impact was silent for a fraction of a second.
Then—
The current detonated within him.
High-intensity lightning coursed through every nerve and muscle, searing flesh and bone. The bolt did not stop at his body—it pierced through the fog and extended over a hundred paces beyond.
Far in the distance, Obuya stood with his right hand raised, lightning spiraling tightly in his palm like a compressed storm.
He could not see clearly through the mist.
But he did not need to.
He clenched his fist.
Boom.
An explosion thundered through the forest, shattering branches and tearing apart the lingering fog. Shockwaves rippled outward.
When the smoke cleared, nothing remained of the Jonin.
Not even fragments.
From beginning to end, the battle had lasted less than a single breath.
Obuya stepped forward and vanished once more.
In the next instant, he stood before the six fleeing Chunin.
They stumbled to a halt.
Among them was a girl with trembling shoulders and pale lips. All six stared at him as if gazing upon death itself.
Obuya examined them quietly, blue lightning flickering faintly around his frame before fading.
A faint smile curved his lips.
"Since you know my name," he said softly, "you should understand. No one escapes me."
His voice was neither loud nor angry. It was simply factual.
"I could bind you all together with a single current the moment you try to flee… and detonate it at will."
Terror tightened their throats yet Obuya's gaze lingered on the girl.
Something about her—her fearful eyes, her fragile composure—stabbed unexpectedly at his memory.
Rin.
"Rin must also be out there, carrying out her missions… I wonder if she's facing the same dangers as these children right now…" he muttered worriedly.