"Surround him!"
The moment one Jōnin of the Ueshi clan fell badly wounded, fear began to gnaw at the hearts of the remaining two. Their bodies lunged forward instinctively, desperate to protect their comrade and stop Raizen from striking again.
A shadow flickered—then he was gone. In the next heartbeat, Raizen reappeared atop the injured Jōnin's head.
"Fujiwara, move!"
The other two Jōnin shouted, but it was too late. The wounded man, sensing Raizen's blade, clenched his teeth and resisted the pain, only to have his Body Flicker Technique's seal vanish the instant Raizen struck.
"Stab!"
The Flying Thunder God Kunai drove into the swamp beneath, dragging Raizen half-submerged with the impact. The two rushing Jōnin froze for a split second—only one reacted in time.
"Earth Style: Floor Steel!"
"Crack!"
The swamp groaned and hardened into jagged stone. Raizen's eyes narrowed—if the ground fully solidified, even his Flying Thunder God wouldn't save him. Without hesitation, he activated the technique and vanished just as the soil locked into rock.
The Jōnin who had cast the Earth Style gritted his teeth, frustrated. Capturing Raizen had been just within reach—until a commotion above caught his attention.
"Watch out! Spring water!"
"What?"
Mizushiro-san looked up to see a massive clay dragon looming overhead, spitting tracking missiles that arced toward the spring below.
"Dammit!"
He tried to dodge with a Body Flicker Technique, but one missile exploded midair under Raizen's precise control, engulfing him in flames. Mizushiro-san screamed, thrown into the swamp, his body convulsing under the scorching impact.
"Curse him!"
The lone remaining Jōnin glanced at his fallen comrades, chest tightening with panic. Raizen, observing from the sidelines, gave a small nod of satisfaction—the clay dragon had done its job. Hovering above, it continued raining havoc on the remaining Ueshi ninjas.
Raizen's Flying Thunder God strikes had already broken their formation. Focused entirely on him, the trio ignored the dragon above, and even more critically, they didn't realize the missiles could be detonated remotely. Each strike he'd unleashed inflicted brutal damage while keeping him safe.
"What do I do now…?"
The last Jōnin's eyes flicked to his two downed comrades—one sprawled in the mud, the other with a gaping chest wound. Both had been just as strong as he was, but now they were broken. A cold dread gripped him.
"Don't lose focus mid-battle…" he muttered.
Then a voice pierced his mind—a whisper of warning.
Shock rippled through him. His body stiffened, then he bolted, abandoning the fight entirely. Raizen, mid-flight, watched helplessly as the last Jōnin fled into the forest surrounding the vein, vanishing from sight.
"Coward! Running without even trying!" Raizen's roar echoed through the clearing.
The remaining two injured ninjas couldn't escape his gaze. Even in pain, the chill in Raizen's eyes told them that their luck had run out.