With a smile on his face, Akuma began trying to control the chakra within his body. After only a few seconds, he realized how easy it was—chakra obeyed him instantly, flowing wherever he willed it to go without resistance. There was no struggle, no backlash.
It was nothing like the Satsui no Hado, which was always difficult to restrain. When combined with his Ki, it became nearly impossible to control for any long period of time. Now that he thought about it, chakra was actually very similar to Ki; both moved like flowing water, responsive to his direction. But controlling the Satsui no Hado was different—it was like trying to command molten lava with bare hands, always threatening to consume him if he lost focus for even a moment.
Akuma could feel it—chakra was making him stronger. His body burned with heat as if ignited from within, every muscle swelling with new vitality, every sense sharpened to a razor's edge. Even his mind felt clearer, stronger. The intoxicating rush brought a grin to his face, the grin of someone drunk on newfound power.
As he savored the sensation, more than thirty Konoha ninja closed in on him. With Orochimaru defeated and the Sound and Sand forces retreating in disarray, the defenders of the Leaf had finally regrouped.
Akuma watched them approach, his smile widening into something feral.
"Come at me—all of you!" he roared, his voice carrying the weight of bloodlust. "I want to test this power… you'll be perfect for that task!"
The Konoha shinobi faltered, unnerved by the crushing killing intent radiating from the boy. But then, remembering that this was the one who had killed the Third Hokage, they steeled themselves. Underestimating him was not an option.
Eleven of them moved at once in a line, weaving hand signs before unleashing a massive Fireball Jutsu. The blazing sphere roared across the battlefield, consuming everything in its path. The flames tore through the wooden branches left by the First Hokage's technique, vaporizing them instantly. Seeing such massive destruction, none of the ninja believed the boy could survive.
They exhaled in relief. The killer of the Hokage had been annihilated.
But their relief died in an instant.
Akuma burst forth from the inferno, eyes glowing a furious crimson and a beastly smile carved across his face. With a single side kick, he tore through the front line—the first two shinobi's bodies ripped apart from the sheer force, while the others were hurled like ragdolls, crashing into buildings with bone-shattering impact.
The remaining shinobi snapped out of their shock and quickly formed a defensive line, hands flashing through seals. A storm of jutsu erupted—fire roared, lightning crackled, earth shattered, and wind screamed through the battlefield. The combined assault tore through everything in sight. Buildings crumbled, the very stadium was breaking apart, and the ground itself split under the onslaught.
Yet Akuma remained.
He stood at the center of the devastation, unmoving, his body absorbing the punishment. Flames scorched his skin, lightning ripped through his muscles, stone spikes pierced his flesh—yet with every wound, chakra, Ki, and the Satsui no Hado surged within him, knitting him back together faster than he could even register the pain. His healing factor had multiplied, pushing him beyond human limits.
When the barrage finally ended, the shinobi collapsed to their knees, panting and drained. Dust and smoke blanketed the arena, reduced now to a lifeless crater of rubble.
And in that crater… stood Akuma.
His eyes glowed red, his body steaming, his killing intent pressing down like a physical weight.
"That's enough," he growled.
Every ninja froze. They had fought monsters before—but never something like this.
Akuma's lips twisted into a savage grin.
"Well… your turn is over. Now it's mine. Prepare yourselves."
In a blur, he moved. In less than a heartbeat, ten shinobi fell—bodies shattered, ribs broken inward, skulls crushed. None survived the devastation of his fists.
The others recoiled, horror etched across their faces. But terror locked their legs in place. They could only watch as Akuma, drenched in blood, stood atop a mound of broken corpses. His crimson eyes glared at the survivors—who could do nothing but tremble.
The boy's grin widened, stretching into something monstrous. Then he dashed forward again.
More than thirty ninja were slaughtered in moments, torn apart so violently that even their families would never recognize their remains. Blood and limbs littered the battlefield. Half the stadium was destroyed from his attack.
And still, more shinobi came.
Nearly sixty ninja charged forward, unwilling to abandon their village. Among them were familiar faces—Anko Mitarashi, Asuma Sarutobi, Iruka Umino, Kurenai Yūhi, and even Jiraiya himself, arriving after defeating the giant snake that had ravaged the village.
Akuma turned to face them.
The moment his eyes fell on the new arrivals, something inside him surged. His killing intent flared violently, his body radiating a dark crimson aura. The Satsui no Hado burst forth without restraint, screaming for blood, demanding slaughter. The more his bloodlust swelled, the more power it poured into him, feeding on his desire to destroy.
A roar of laughter tore from his throat, deep and feral, echoing across the ruins.
"Come at me—ALL of you!" he bellowed, blood-slick fists clenching with anticipation. "LET ME TEST MY POWER!!!"
The wave of killing intent that erupted from him was suffocating. It spread beyond the battlefield, washing over the entire village. Dozens of shinobi who had been rushing to join the fight froze mid-stride, their bodies trembling, eyes widening in primal horror.
They had seen monsters before. But this—this was something else.
Akuma stood at the center of it all, silent now, crimson aura writhing around his frame like living fire. His eyes locked on the shinobi with the cold hunger of a predator. In that moment, he was no boy. He was a beast—like a starving tiger staring at prey, too terrified to run.
Akuma stepped forward, the ground beneath his heel splintering with a sharp crack. He drew his stance, both fists clenching as if to crush the air itself. Between his hands, a swirling darkness began to form—at first a flicker of crimson-black energy, then a violent, chaotic mass. The aura thrashed like a living storm, feeding on his fury, growing larger with every heartbeat.
The wind around him turned savage, spiraling outward in violent gusts, whipping debris into the air like a hurricane. Grinding his teeth, veins bulging across his forehead, Akuma bellowed—
"GOHADOKEN!!!"
The monstrous sphere of energy tore from his hands with a roar, streaking across the battlefield toward the rooftops where dozens of shinobi had gathered. Anything in its path—tiles, beams, entire houses—was instantly obliterated, reduced to nothingness before the naked eye could track it.
Panic erupted among the shinobis. Some tried to leap aside, but only a handful managed. More than half the shinobi were caught in the blast—erased in an instant, bodies vaporized as though they had never existed.
The Gohadoken soared higher, a dark comet ripping through the sky before it detonated above the village with a deafening "BOOOOMMMM!!!".
The explosion rippled outward, a shockwave shattering windows, flattening buildings, tearing entire rooftops away. The sound alone ruptured the eardrums of civilians; people fell clutching their heads, their screams lost beneath the rolling thunder.
Akuma lowered his arms and stared at the devastation. A corpse lay before him, smoke curling up from broken walls and shattered stone. And then—he laughed. A deep, guttural, blood-drenched laughter that chilled even the hardened survivors to their bones.
At the edge of the ruins, only twenty shinobi still stood—pale-faced, trembling, yet unwilling to flee. Among them were familiar figures who had survived. Behind them, more ninja rallied, pouring into the streets, their eyes burning with both terror and grim resolve.
Akuma's aura flared hotter, his eyes burning with primal fire.
"ALL OF YOU—COME AT ME!" he roared, voice shaking the very air. "I WILL KILL YOU ALL!!!"
Killing intent poured from him in waves, thick and suffocating, a miasma of death that seemed to rot the air itself.
But then—suddenly—two figures appeared in front of him.
Might Guy and Kakashi stood together, battered and bloodied. Both of them swayed where they stood, their bodies nearly broken. Guy coughed violently, blood spraying from his lips, yet still he faced Akuma with burning eyes.
"Akuma… why?!" Guy shouted, his voice raw, cracking with pain. "Why are you doing this!?"
Tears streaked down his face as he staggered forward.
Akuma froze. His wild bloodlust halted, his manic laughter dying in his throat. In his frenzy, he hadn't even realized—Might Guy was at the stadium.
Not just Guy.
Through the settling smoke, Akuma's eyes caught movement at the far edge of the ruined stands. Huddled in the intact corner were villagers, academy students, even the visiting world leaders who had been under genjutsu only moments ago. Their lives had been spared—not by chance, but because Kakashi, Guy, and the other shinobi had saved them from destruction.
The realization struck him like a blow.
Akuma's gaze lingered on Guy's injured body. Something deep within him—something buried beneath rage, beneath the hunger for battle, beneath the intoxicating chaos—stirred.
The storm of killing intent faltered. It was as if a predator, crazed and starving, had suddenly recognized the face of the master who raised it. His aura wavered, shrinking back in a haze of uncertainty.