The battlefield was quiet now. The smell of blood and dust hung thick. Broken stone and shattered bodies covered the ground.
Indra stood among the wreckage. His breathing was steady. His eyes burned deep red, the Mangekyō Sharingan still spinning slowly.
He looked toward the Mist Kage.
The old leader blinked, raising his arms to guard. He thought another attack was coming. He was right.
Indra walked forward. No rush. No battle cry. Just one step, then another. His fist tightened and crashed into the Mist Kage's skull.
A sick crack split the air. The Mist Kage's head snapped backward. His body dropped at once — a dead heap in the rubble.
Silence. Then the fighting burst back to life.
Indra did not pause. His eyes moved to the Tsuchikage. The Stone Village leader was still trying to stand, bleeding from a dozen cuts. Indra charged at him with horrible speed.
His knee slammed into the Tsuchikage's ribs. The old man let out a broken gasp and stumbled. Before he could fall, Indra grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back. Then he smashed him down onto the sharp rocks.
Bones cracked like dry wood. The Tsuchikage's body twisted and lay still. Broken. Done.
Nearby, a Kage from an allied village — some minor land — rushed forward. His eyes were wild, his hope small. He thought he could do something.
Indra's gaze shifted to him. A flicker of dark amusement crossed his face. He reached out and slammed his palm into the man's neck.
A sharp snap rang out. The man's neck twisted too far. His body crumpled, twitching for a few seconds before it stopped. Dead before he hit the dirt.
Then a roar tore through the air.
"Demon! Demon!"
It was the Raikage. He staggered backward, his left arm hanging useless, slick with blood. A deep gash behind his ear dripped red down his neck. His skull had a wound near the eye — a hole that showed something soft and wet inside. Pain twisted his face, but fear gripped him harder.
He broke away.
His legs pounded over broken streets and rubble as he ran. His breath came in ragged gasps. He did not look back. The screams of the dying faded behind him. Silence followed.
But in his head, one word echoed over and over: Demon.
---
His body was broken. Shredded flesh. Cracked bones. His will alone pushed him forward. He stumbled through the ruined gates of Lightning Village and collapsed against the cold stone wall.
His vision swam. Pain and tears blurred everything. His limbs shook.
"Demon... Demon..." he whispered, voice cracked and raw.
Tears cut tracks down his dirty face. They mixed with the blood still flowing from his wounds.
His knees buckled. He slid down the wall and crumpled into a heap on the hard ground.
Shinobi gathered around him. Wide eyes. Silence. None of them dared to step too close. This was the Raikage — the once mighty leader — now broken and shaking.
A warm wetness spread through his clothes. His body had lost all control.
The warriors exchanged uneasy glances. No one knew what to do. Help him? Run from him?
The word "Demon" burned in his mind. It would never stop.
Far away, back on the island, the battle was over. The cries of war had faded into a heavy, grim silence. Indra stood among the dead Kage, his eyes still glowing red. He looked down at the bodies.
"Pathetic," he said after looking at bodies
And then he turned and walked back toward the shrine.