Though Senju Haruto never stepped onto the battlefield, his gaze never strayed from it.
And truthfully, he had held a faint expectation for T'Challa.
After all, T'Challa was king of Wakanda.
Not only had he engineered the vibranium suit with his brilliant mind, but he also shared a spiritual bond with the Panther God, Bast.
Perhaps within T'Challa lay a hidden, astonishing power.
Perhaps he might even compel Haruto to take things seriously for once.
Yet just as T'Challa charged recklessly toward him, his path was blocked—Kimimaro stood in the way.
Neither he nor Orochimaru had ever ordered Kimimaro to intercept the Wakandan king.
"Did he choose this of his own accord?" Haruto murmured. The thought was not impossible.
Kimimaro was loyalty itself. Even in the Sasuke Retrieval Arc, he had fought to his dying breath, determined to shatter Gaara's ultimate defense.
And his strength was not to be underestimated.
"Still… Kimimaro was a character born in Part One. His ceiling was set from the beginning."
Even in the Fourth Great Ninja War, when Kabuto revived him through Edo Tensei, Kimimaro never truly shone.
It wasn't an exaggeration—Naruto Part One and Shippuden operated on entirely different power scales.
At best, Kimimaro could delay T'Challa.
Defeat him outright? Highly unlikely.
Yet as Haruto watched him, a new thought stirred.
Kimimaro's power stemmed from his kekkei genkai—manipulating and regenerating his own bones.
If one were to infuse adamantium into his skeleton…
What unforeseen result might that yield?
Logan's claws were forged from adamantium as well—but not the original alloy. His was second-generation adamantium, slightly weaker but reproducible.
It wasn't impossible that General Ross possessed the formula for this alloy.
And now, Haruto stood as the Hokage of the Fire Country.
The Fire Country was his nation. His people. His responsibility.
He had no reason to ignore any chance of strengthening its might.
But that was a matter for the future.
For now, he focused on the duel unfolding before him.
If T'Challa could not even overcome Kimimaro… then his strength amounted to nothing.
And nothing deserved no attention.
On the battlefield, T'Challa did not falter at the sight of Kimimaro's strange abilities.
He charged forward, resolute.
Kimimaro moved with calm precision. With a snap of his wrist, the bone whip in his hand lashed out.
He understood vibranium's power well enough.
No ordinary strike could breach its defense, for the suit absorbed kinetic energy itself.
But that did not make vibranium invincible.
If he could bind T'Challa, restrict his movements until the war was decided—
that too was victory.
The bone whip spiraled, wrapping toward its prey.
But in that instant, T'Challa slammed his palms together.
RUMMMBLE!
A thunderous blast shook the sky, and a violet shockwave burst outward.
The kinetic surge shredded the whip in midair, flinging it back.
Kimimaro's bloodline may have been flexible, eerie, and strange—
but against vibranium's force absorption, the advantage was clear.
"You've lost!"
T'Challa's roar split the air.
In the instant Kimimaro staggered back, he lunged, driving forward like an arrow, fist clenched and aimed at the boy's chest.
Anyone else would have been crushed by the blow.
But Kimimaro's bones were not only weapons—they were shields.
As the fist drove forward, his ribs exploded outward, spreading to intercept the strike, dispersing its force.
T'Challa's eyes widened.
Never had he imagined the human skeleton could be twisted into such grotesque defense.
"I've got you."
Kimimaro tilted his head, meeting T'Challa's gaze.
He knew he could not kill him outright.
But this—this was enough.
"Dance of the Seedling Fern!"
His voice thundered, and suddenly his entire skeleton erupted.
Bones speared upward at impossible speed, sprouting into a forest of white.
In an instant, he and T'Challa were sealed deep within a grove of living bone.
"Your vibranium suit may absorb every strike. It may render you untouchable."
"But it cannot conjure force from nothing."
"As long as I lock you away like this, unable to move—"
"You can do nothing."
Kimimaro's plan spilled forth in full.
In his heart, he believed utterly in Orochimaru's power. That with his master's might, the kingdom of Wakanda would fall.
He, a pawn of Orochimaru, had contained the enemy king.
The rest was slaughter.
Wakanda's defeat was inevitable.
"Kimimaro…"
From his vantage point, Senju Haruto was caught off guard.
He had expected Kimimaro to fail against vibranium, to fall in battle—or at best, wear down T'Challa's stamina.
Never had he considered that Kimimaro might outwit him.
Had the boy not died young… had he lived into the Shippuden era…
Perhaps his strength would have become something truly fearsome.
Still, for Haruto, this conclusion was disappointing.
He had hoped T'Challa would carve his way through, reaching him at last.
"Then it's over," Haruto murmured.
"This war is finished."
But just as those words left him, the skies above Wakanda darkened.
Clouds gathered in a black storm, and a divine power, ancient and overwhelming, stirred to life across the land.
It grew, surging stronger by the heartbeat, until the earth itself began to quake.
Wakandan warriors, Sound shinobi, prisoners—every soul felt it.
Then a bestial roar echoed from the valleys, shaking heaven and earth.
And in that instant, every Wakandan knew the source.
Their Panther God—Bast.
At the kingdom's darkest hour, their goddess had finally chosen.
She would descend.
She would fight—
against the Sorcerer Supreme himself.
"I will never allow you to take this land from my hands!"