Black lightning tore into the crowd!
A flash of steel appeared and vanished in the same instant, followed by short, choked screams and the dull thud of bodies hitting the ground.
Kiyohara didn't pause for even a heartbeat—kill, snatch the ninja pouch and scrolls, and keep driving forward without slowing down!
Boom!
Boom!
Every so often, a quick-reacting Mist ninja tried to stop him with ninjutsu or explosive tags, but the bursts of fire usually only caught the afterimage he left behind—and sometimes even blew up their own comrades instead.
And with more than a hundred sand-iron explosive tags floating and weaving around Kiyohara, trying to close in and block him was basically suicide.
Suiryū Kūsora's fury surged.
Again and again, he used a water Body Flicker to close the gap, trying to end it with a single high-speed iaijutsu slash.
But every time he got close, Kiyohara either instantly flipped the repulsive force under his feet and dodged in the opposite direction—
—or deliberately flicked a few sand-iron explosive tags into his approach line, forcing him to dodge or defend with Water Release.
"This bastard—he's slippery like an eel. What the hell is his bloodline limit? Magnet Release? Or the Uzumaki clan? His chakra reserves are insane."
Suiryū Kūsora felt suffocated with frustration.
He clearly had the advantage in raw power, and his speed wasn't inferior either, yet he couldn't grab hold of the opponent's "core." All he could do was watch as Kiyohara butchered the weaker troops while steadily pushing toward the command point.
"I can't let him get any closer!"
Suiryū Kūsora's gaze sharpened. He stopped chasing a one-hit kill and switched to mid-range suppression.
"Water Release: Senbon!"
Dense water needles shot at Kiyohara like a torrential downpour from all directions—massive coverage, impossible to fully dodge.
Kiyohara jerked and swayed at extreme speed. Most of the needles missed by a hair, but one sharp water needle still grazed past his left cheek!
Screech!
A shallow cut opened, and blood slowly seeped out.
Suiryū Kūsora's spirit lifted. Finally!
He'd caught a flaw in Kiyohara's high-speed movement!
His dodging wasn't free—moving at that limit put a crushing burden on the body, and tiny reaction delays would appear!
"Got you!"
Suiryū Kūsora barked coldly. His figure blurred again as he prepared a chain assault.
"Your movements—I'm starting to figure them out."
"Yeah?"
But the bloodied Kiyohara suddenly stopped his dash, turned toward Suiryū Kūsora in the fog, and smiled.
"Then why don't you—take a good look around."
Suiryū Kūsora's heart jumped. Instinctively, he spread his senses outward.
His attention had been locked on Kiyohara the whole time. The moment he expanded his perception, his face changed violently.
At some point, along the edge of the area where they'd been chasing and fighting—among charred tree trunks, collapsed boulders, even between fallen corpses—
there were copper wires as thin as hair, gleaming with a metallic sheen, wound and threaded in an incredibly hidden way.
They crisscrossed into a huge three-dimensional trap, covering nearly half the battlefield.
And every strand—subtly—converged toward where Kiyohara was standing now!
"When—?!"
Suiryū Kūsora suddenly realized: Kiyohara hadn't only been looting. He'd been laying these wires the entire time.
"Lightning Release: Lightning Flow Technique!"
Kiyohara formed seals.
Bzzzz!
Lightning chakra erupted from his body and surged into the pre-laid copper web!
Brilliant azure electricity raced along the wires, flooding through them—instantly lighting the dim fog zone like daylight!
"Bad!"
Suiryū Kūsora reflexively tried to water-Body Flicker out of the area that had turned into an electric cage.
But in the split second before he could move—
"Explode!"
Kiyohara barked.
He didn't detonate all the tags—only the one hidden perfectly against the inside of Suiryū Kūsora's armor, pressed tight to his chest. A sand-iron tag Kiyohara had left behind, now triggered in an instant by reserved magnetic force!
"What?!"
Suiryū Kūsora's face went pale. He felt heat bloom at his chest as a murderous sense of danger crashed over him.
There was no time to think when it had been planted. Survival instinct forced the only choice.
He threw himself backward while ripping and tearing at the chest armor with both hands at top speed, then heaved the entire breastplate toward the open ground in front and to the side with all his strength!
Boom!
Less than two meters after it left his hand, the armor exploded midair! The terrifying shockwave smashed into his unprotected chest and face!
"PFF!"
He spat a mouthful of blood. His body flew like a torn sack, slammed through a tree, and crashed to the ground. His chest was a mangled mess of flesh and blood, his face streaming red—his aura collapsing instantly, barely hanging on by a thread.
"—cough—bast—ard—"
Suiryū Kūsora's vision swam. He stared in horror at the figure walking out of the fading lightning within the copper-wire net.
This wasn't just a madman. From the start, he might've been guided step by step into a prepared killing field.
Planting an explosive tag on his body without him noticing—what kind of speed was that?
Kiyohara strode up to Suiryū Kūsora, breathing a little hard.
Blood still seeped from the cut on his cheek, and his chakra had dropped back to a dangerous line.
Maintaining constant Steel Release hardening, Magnet Release acceleration, and a prolonged Body Flicker burst was a terrifying drain on both chakra and mental focus.
If not for Steel-Release Kiyohara's possession—its ultra-efficient energy conversion and ability to push overdraft potential—he'd have burned out long ago.
"Good thing… I had enough explosive tags."
Kiyohara glanced at the loot bundles scattered around—spoils taken from Mist ninjas—and a pang of pain flickered in his heart.
That trap and the final kill had burned through a huge number of tags.
He didn't hesitate. He immediately began searching Suiryū Kūsora and the nearby Mist corpses, focusing on collecting explosive tags, soldier pills, and valuable ninja tools.
Because of the fierce fighting and the horrifying chain explosions, the area had fallen into an eerie silence. Some Mist shinobi scattered in the forest at a distance seemed intimidated, not daring to charge in recklessly.
That gave Kiyohara a precious few dozen seconds to breathe—and "clean up the battlefield."
In the rear.
Yamanaka Sentoku's voice paused, as if waiting for Hyuga Natsu to report what she was seeing behind them.
He relayed: "Kiyohara canceled the summoning—he stopped moving, like he's eating something? No—wait, there's a very strong Mist ninja next to him!!"
"They fought, but—suddenly a ton of explosive tags floated up around Kiyohara. Every time the Mist ninja swings, the tags block it and explode. Kiyohara's using explosive tags as shields—"
Everyone in the rear went cold with dread.
"Kiyohara… can he hold on?"
Nohara Rin covered her mouth.
Yamanaka Sentoku didn't answer. He was intrigued, too—this young ninja had grabbed his interest.
…
But for what happened next on the ground, they still needed Hyuga Natsu's Byakugan.
Mist command point.
"Trash! A bunch of trash!"
Higashino-yama's roar nearly drowned out the distant explosions.
Through a special transmission jutsu and the hazy images carried by the lingering mist, he watched with his own eyes as his elite, Suiryū Kūsora, was smashed to the brink of death by that Konoha brat—by such vile, underhanded tactics.
Not only had the chaos on the flank not calmed down—it was getting worse!
"That Kiyohara—must die! At any cost!"
Killing intent boiled in Higashino-yama's eyes, his scar twisting.
"Mobilize every nearby squad! Surround him and crush him! He's at the end of his rope!"
Momochi Zabuza silently watched the distance, his brow tightly furrowed beneath the bandages.
Kiyohara's experience, ruthlessness, and endless tricks made him discard his initial contempt.
This wasn't a hyena that only harvested the weak like the commander claimed.
This was a lone wolf in sheep's clothing—cunning and vicious.
…
Center of the main battlefield.
The other flank had turned into a retreat in waves. Most of the shinobi—including those in the main field—were pulling back.
What remained were shinobi skilled in Body Flicker, and a handful of powerhouses staying behind to cover the withdrawal.
The biggest clash by far was, without question, where Jiraiya and Orochimaru were fighting the Six-Tails.
"Oh?"
Jiraiya spat a searing toad oil bullet, working with Orochimaru's binding-type jutsu to temporarily restrain the rampaging Six-Tails, and stole a glance toward the flank.
The repeated bursts of firelight and violent chakra surges were clear even from here.
"This year's Konoha seedlings… huh. There's a thorny one in the bunch."
Jiraiya raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying a bit of appreciation.
"That's a pretty big commotion."
Orochimaru's golden slit pupils swept that way too. His long tongue licked the corner of his mouth as he let out a low, rasping chuckle. He didn't comment—but the interest in his eyes deepened.
At the edge of the flank battlefield, near the Konoha's retreat direction.
Kiyohara stuffed the last looted ninja pouch into a now-bulging sealing scroll and took a deep breath.
After the brief rest and a few more soldier pills, his chakra had barely recovered a little over ten percent, but the exhaustion from overdraw crashed over him like a tide.
Steel-Release Kiyohara's spirit also sent a warning: this overclocked state couldn't last much longer.
"Time to retreat—but before I go, there's one last step."
Kiyohara's gaze fixed on the distant command point, still glaringly obvious to his senses.
He planned to fire a long-range jutsu, then hurl explosive tags at it from afar and detonate them.
Just as he was about to move, an incredibly faint whistling sound cut through the air behind and to the side—a petite black shadow landed soundlessly.
"Who?"
Kiyohara snapped to full alert, and several sand-iron explosive tags floated toward that direction.
"Don't attack—friendly!"
A crisp, slightly urgent female voice rang out.
The newcomer wore an animal mask. Her long purple hair was tied back into a clean ponytail, she wore a fitted Anbu uniform, and a slightly overlong ninja blade was strapped to her back.
Even with the mask, Kiyohara recognized her by voice and build—Uzuki Yugao.
He'd even saved her life last time.
Uzuki Yugao was a bit younger than Kiyohara, but because of her outstanding talent, she'd joined Anbu early for experience.
After all, the minimum requirement for Anbu was chūnin.
To be honest, Kiyohara didn't understand what the internal secrecy of Anbu was supposed to accomplish.
Like when Kakashi joined Anbu—how many people in the village had hair that conspicuously white?
~~~
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