Kagami Uchiha, currently conscious of his condition, understanding his odd "mission" and his target this time, had made a deliberate decision to weaponize his current strange immortality and bottomless chakra reserves as much as possible from the start, especially the reserves.
From the start, he used as much of his energy as possible to wear down Ryusei's clone, flooding the battlefield with waves of his signature purple flames, an evolved fusion of Fire and Yin Release.
The flames weren't just destructive; they were disorienting.
The sheer density of their chakra-laden smoke and heat interfered with the sensory networks of Ryusei's slug fragments scattered across the area.
Their perception blurred, unable to properly channel chakra toward Ryusei's clone, which increasingly lost more and more chakra.
So, even Katsuyu's regenerative properties faltered amid the thick, oppressive energy.
From the beginning, Ryusei's clone tried using his water and yang release variant, a lifelike, adhesive fluid designed to restrict movement and create sealing openings, but Kagami was cautious, always keeping distance, never allowing himself to be caught.
Around him, a small barrier of violet fire flickered constantly.
Its conceptual Yin component devoured any sealing formula that came into contact with it, erasing them before they could bind.
Those flames had another property, partially, too: nullification.
Especially if the exposure was longer.
Its Yin conceptual properties, with the devouring essence of fire, slowly eroded the structure of jutsu themselves, stripping away chakra coherence.
That meant Ryusei's clone couldn't simply overpower Kagami through brute force or bombardment either, unless it risked being dispeled too.
Kagami was no fool, at least, not in battle.
He fought with surgical discipline, tactical restraint, and absolute focus.
His weakness wasn't skill, but belief.
Ryusei's clone noticed that immediately. Between their clashes, he began to talk. "You know, Kagami… I never understood your kind of loyalty," he said with that same slit-eyed calm, weaving between bursts of fire and wind. "The black sheep of your clan. You chose the village over your own blood. Tell me—what kind of man sells his family to please his master?"
Kagami's eyes narrowed, but he didn't falter. "You speak of loyalty as if you understand it. I protected the Leaf so there'd even be a clan left to return to."
Ryusei smirked. "And look how that turned out. Your clan oppressed over and over again despite your foolish actions… all thanks to the 'Leaf' you loved so much, to the same people you were waging your tail for all your life."
Kagami's flames flared brighter. "Enough."
"Hit too close?" Ryusei's tone sharpened, each word deliberate. "Here you are again—indirectly attacking and harming your own kin, when you don't even know why. You're fighting me, but you don't truly even know who I am."
He gestured toward the distance where Kiyomi's black Susanoo hammered against Danzo.
"I'm their ally now—the Uchiha's ally. Together, we'll eventually step on Danzo's and Hiruzen's heads and bury their names where they belong. In the garbage of history."
Kagami didn't answer.
But something in his expression flickered—a small twitch of doubt.
He quickly buried it beneath anger at his brash words toward his comrades.
Meanwhile, Ryusei's clone gritted his teeth internally a bit.
The chakra cost was mounting.
He was expending far too much just maintaining parity.
It was not very likely that he could find a breakthrough here anytime soon.
After all, he was just a clone, in the end of the day, and Kagami's flames countered him to a considerable level.
Then suddenly, a pulse rippled through his mind—Ryusei's telepathic message.
"Send everything back to me, what's left of your chakra. Kiyomi's reached a decent level. She can handle both of them now."
The clone's eyes flicked across the field, catching sight of Kiyomi's towering, fully limbed Susanoo charging toward Danzo and chasing him in their direction, her hammer glowing black-red with power.
The sight drew a crooked grin to his face.
He turned back to Kagami. "Looks like your master's calling," he said dryly. "And you can explain yourself to her instead."
Before Kagami could respond, the clone self-dispersed in a burst of steam and chakra, sending the remaining energy surging back to the original Ryusei remotely to distance.
Kagami blinked, glancing in the direction of Kiyomi's approach.
Moments later, Danzo, battered and grim, appeared beside him.
The two old teammates exchanged a brief, grim acknowledgment.
"Danzo," Kagami said, his voice cautious. "Why is an Uchiha the enemy here as well? That wasn't what you and Hiruzen told me."
Danzo's eyes flickered, his tone sharp and commanding. "She's a traitor—one of the Hawk faction, ready to betray Konoha and start a coup with that boy, Ryusei Nishida. You know what that means. There is war going on currently, and we can't afford such a disturbance."
Kagami hesitated. A faint unease stirred in his chest, but his conditioning held firm.
Additionally, during his life, he had always been at odds with the Hawk faction, viewing them mostly as backward extremists, hardly even considering them the same clan as himself.
He'd been Tobirama's experiment, a child handed by the Uchiha to the Hokage as a "peace token," molded since birth to see the Leaf's will as absolute, without him even knowing.
To him, betrayal of Konoha was betrayal of everything.
He slowly nodded. "Understood."
Danzo's mouth twitched in satisfaction. "Good. Then burn her down."
Kagami's purple flames surged again, spreading across the field like a living storm.
They clashed with Kiyomi's Susanoo, the heat so intense it warped the air.
Her chakra avatar bones and muscles sizzled and cracked, portions melting where the fire lingered too long.
Kiyomi's expression hardened. "You… you help him?" she spat, pointing her hammer toward Danzo's arm, where the stolen Sharingan pulsed beneath his skin. "Look at what he's done! Those are our eyes!"
Kagami's brow furrowed, uncertain. But Danzo quickly cut in again. "Later, Kagami. I'll explain everything to you once this is over. Right now, trust me. Trust Hiruzen, the Hokage. She's the threat. Not me."
Kagami hesitated again—but nodded, forcing conviction back into his voice. "Then I'll fight as I always have. For Konoha."
"Good," Danzo said.
The two moved in unison.
Kagami's flames mixed with Danzo's wind, water, and earth releases, his purple fire even managing to distort parts of Kiyomi's Susanoo armor, forcing her on the defensive.
Yet beneath his calm facade, Danzo's thoughts twisted bitterly.
"He's useful, for now," he thought coldly. "But still just another obedient tool."
And so the battle continued, Kiyomi's hammer clashing with their combined elemental storm, black fire and purple flame colliding, Uchiha against Uchiha, loyalty against blood.
Ever since the battle began, Danzo had found himself effectively isolated, his Edo Tensei forces scattered or occupied, leaving him to contend with the Uchiha girl alone.
Having Kagami by his side now, even briefly, brought a grim sense of relief.
At least he finally had another chess piece on the board.
Assessing the field, Danzo couldn't deny that the situation had spiraled far beyond their initial expectations.
Ryusei, his hidden cards, and his helpers this time were far stronger and far more coordinated than his intelligence had suggested.
Their unconventional tactics and sheer endurance had turned what was meant to be a swift execution into a full-scale stalemate.
Neither side seemed capable of overpowering the other outright.
And that, ironically, favored Danzo's forces.
Infinite chakra—the one advantage of the Edo Tensei—meant time was on their side.
They could continue this for hours if necessary.
Eventually, the living would weaken, their chakra exhausted, their precision slipping.
Mistakes would come.
But whether they could capitalize on those openings when they appeared was another question entirely.
By then, Danzo suspected, Ryusei would have already extracted whatever he wanted from his hideout somewhere around there and prepared his escape.
The Flying Raijin tags were another frustration.
He had hoped to mark one of them during the initial chaos, but the boy's cunning had spoiled that.
Clearly, Ryusei had anticipated the move and warned his allies in advance to avoid close-range contact.
What worried Danzo more now wasn't the battlefield in front of him, but what might arrive from beyond it.
Still, retreat wasn't an option. Not now.
Danzo's expression hardened, eyes narrowing as he scanned the field.
The mission had not changed, and his resolve hadn't either.
Both he and Hiruzen had agreed—this boy, Ryusei Nishida, was a calamity in human form.
And today, that calamity would end.
At any cost.
Even if they had to sacrifice many things in the process, including their current power, positions, and influence within the village.
They jointly felt that if they let him roam free for another year or two, literally everything they'd built for decades would crumble.
So they began weighing less catastrophic options, like even summoning their teacher, knowing full well such a move would force them to cede authority to him in the future.
For some reason, both of them always had the uneasy feeling that if Tobirama were truly summoned, he wouldn't be eager to return to the Pure Land anytime soon. He'd probably find a dozen excuses to linger, while berating them for the chaos they'd made of his legacy.
After all, what kind of teacher could produce two disciples like Hiruzen and Danzo?
Only one just as power-hungry and controlling as they were.
However, before thinking further about those more desperate moves, Danzo's lips curled into a thin, sinister grin.
He suddenly remembered another card, one they'd dismissed earlier as unnecessary, back when they'd assumed their overwhelming power would be enough.
"Tsunade…" he thought coldly. "Let's see how you react when you see your dead lover again—and what he has to say about the woman you've become."
Even if Dan Katō couldn't turn her completely against Ryusei, the shock alone might be enough to break her focus, to open a single fatal window.
If Izuna's summoning could strike cleanly in that moment and capitalize by ending her, the entire balance would tip.
One less, and the momentum of the whole battlefield would cascade into their favor.
Psychological warfare was still warfare—and few understood that better than Danzo.