Killing intent flooded the air, suffocating and heavy. My heart pounded violently, each thud echoing in my ears as the masked figure closed in with slow, deliberate steps.
My body screamed in protest — battered, bruised, my right arm useless, my chakra nearing exhaustion, but I couldn't afford to falter now.
A faint glimmer caught my eye — the razor-thin wire attached to the hilt of his blade, coiled and ready to strike. He dropped low into a beastlike stance, his silhouette slowly fading from my sight.
Then, he vanished.
In the blink of an eye, Kushimaru blurred forward — a phantom streak — aiming to skewer his wire straight through my chest.
For an instant, the world slowed. My breath hitched, I staggered backwards.
Chakra reactively surged in my fingertips, my eyes desperately searching for a way out, there it was - Mantis
Instinct took over. I yanked Mantis between us, propelling him forward —forcing the puppet into position, just as the glint of steel closed in.
TWANG!
Sparks erupted as the blade was intercepted by Mantis, the steel screeching from the impact. Chakra surged into Mantis' capacitors,one claw raised blocking the needle like blade, simultaneously whipping at Kishimaru with immense force, the other metal claw, streaked through the air, a thunderous snap blew out as the pincer clamped shut.
Snap. The lustre of the thread slowly fades, as it drifts to the ground becoming slack coils of thread.
Kushimaru flips back, rotating on his palms, his limbs twirling in the air:
"Impressive," Kushimaru muttered, his tone flat, neither admiration nor anger, just cold acknowledgment.
Just as Kushimaru lands however, a molten hot cavity in the ground reveals itself: shooting upwards, aiming directly at his head, his porcelain white mask reflecting the vibrant orange hue of the blazing fireball.
"Did you forget about me?!" Pakura voice cuts through the chaos.
A flash of orange bursts from the ground, searing red 3rd degree burns racing upwards on the arms of Kushimaru, as the mass of pure combustion propels closer and closer to his face.
Just being in the vicinity of the scalding hot steam alone, formed via the combination of fire and wind chakra natures, singes the tip off Kushimarus hair.
And just as Kushimarus skull is about to get incinerated into ash. Juzo steps in, blocking the flame with his executioner blade.
Hiss!
Steam hissed violently as the cold steel met scorching heat, saving Kushimaru from his impending doom.
The upper half of the executioner blade, liquified instantaneously into a glowing orange mess, dripping onto the sand, sizzling on contact.
It was at that moment, Kushimaru realised that he greatly underestimated the duo of young shinobi, driven by pure bloodlust after witnessing his fellow members failing to beat them, he still simply perceived them as weak kids.
"Kushimaru! You're too arrogant!", Juzo said scolding him.
The success of the battle was short lived, Pakura and I were heavily weakened, running on fumes…
But they were too.
Two members were taken out, leaving the worn out Ameyuri, Jūzō without a weapon and Kushimaru with severe burns on his arms.
Only Jinpachi and Fuguki were still at their peak performance.
I clenched my jaw, chakra threads swaying as my fingertips twitched.
"Tch…will reinforcements even come", I grumbled to myself.
Then, Boom!
Jinpachi, his impatience bubbling, swings his swords, hundreds of paper tags unfurl at the blunt edge of the blade, exploding mid swing.
I had to do something quick, so with the remaining chakra left in the actuators of my knees, I push off the ground with ferocity- my footprint embeds into the ground, splintering it as I soar up into the air.
Looking down from the sky, I accurately pinpoint Juzo and Jinpachi, flinging two kunais, attached to my chakra threads, in their direction.
The kunais whistle through the air , trailing chakra threads like silver streaks, as Jinpachi raises the hilt to block with his blade, I tug on the chakra thread — the kunai jerks downwards, redirecting the trajectory.
"GAH!" Jinpachi stumbles, splattering crimson pours out on the sand as the kunai buries deep into his thigh.
I had no time to assess the damage however, my eyes darted to Jūzō — but he was already moving.
He blurred into a silent flicker, his melted executioner's blade still clutched in his hands, appearing directly beside Pakura in a fluid, predatory motion.
Pakura, who was still depleted from her fight with Ameyuri and Kushimaru, was caught off guard, as Juzo continues his forward momentum, swinging his dilapidated blade with one arm, aiming for her jugular.
However, something felt off, as I remembered the water clone from earlier…
My eyes followed the trail of damp sandstone.
Then I realized — the strike was too telegraphed, too sluggish.
"Pakura—!" I shouted, but my voice felt drowned in the chaos.
Pakura ducked under the swing, countering on instinct, only for Jūzō to snap his other hand upward, palm outstretched with his fingers splayed.
Water Style: Water Prison Jutsu
Water poured out of a nearby well with a violent roar — encapsulating Pakura.
A massive spherical prison engulfed her, locking her in a whirl of crushing pressure. The surface rippled violently as Pakura thrashed inside. She had no choice but to let her Scorch attacks fizzle down as the temperature rapidly rose.
A moment earlier, while we were in the midst of battling the other members of the seven swordsman.
Juzo, observing his surroundings had noticed something that caught his eye.
A water well
Knowing Pakuras scorch style can burn through almost anything, he realized that if he used water prison jutsu he could completely negate her ability. She wouldn't be able to escape without boiling herself alive.
He had elaborately bided his time, waiting for an opportunity to entrap her.
As soon as the moment Pakura became restrained within water, Ameyuri's eyes lit up.
A hissing, harsh, crackle permeated the air, as the wielder of the jagged twin blades, zoomed by Juzo, aiming to electrocute and pierce the water prison.
I could only watch.
I barely had any time to intervene and before I could move…
Fuguki's large silhouette loomed over, hoisting the large Samehada at my direction.
Crash!
I flipped back, kicking against the blade with the assistance of my exo skeleton.
But I had forgotten one thing: Samehada absorbs chakra.
My actuators drain out as the blade squirms in enjoyment, leaving me having to manage the weight of the clunky exoskeleton purely with physical strength.
Almost instantly, he proceeds to launch a barrage of his pin like hair strands towards me, as I was in the midst of crashing back down.
With my only resort being Mantis, I enveloped myself with the puppet, a storm of needles, thrashing violently on the wooden husk.
I had to save Pakura…
Without any time to stop Ameyuri — all hope had seemed to have been lost.
The world slowed to a crawl. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. My vision tunneled.
With a last ditch effort, I cranked the dial to the max.
I had only upgraded the actuators recently, so I'm uncertain whether the sheer power of a full power attack is too much for the frame to handle.
I was going to channel the remaining of my chakra into my exoskeleton and launch my most devestating punch at Ameyuri's direction, in hopes the subsequent air pressure will push Jūzo away, breaking the water prison jutsu.
This is a really risky manoeuvre— if it failed, I would be left defensless, depleted of my remaining chakra.
Just as the actuators began to whirr…
FWIP!
A golden flash tore through the chaos, piercing the storm cleanly.
In a single blink, Ameyuri froze mid-strike, her eyes wide . A sharp, precise senbon of glimmering gold, punched clean through her skull.
Her body collapsed in silence.
I blinked, chest heaving, the world crashing back into motion. My gaze shot toward the source.
Rasa
Reinforcements have finally arrived. And to my relief, it's the future Fourth Kazekage himself, folding his arms standing atop a platform of his trademark shimmering gold dust.
Far behind him were numerous Jōnin, cleaning up the rest of the Kiri squadrons.
These were elite jonin of Sunagakure, sent on the supposed secret manhunt for the Third Kazekage. But they came back to no avail and instead, they had found the village entrance in tatters, an uncharacteristic dense fog hiding the mayhem caused by the infiltration of Kiri.
Rasa raising his hands shifting golden sand magnetically as it repulsed towards Jūzō, forming a golden barrier between him and Pakura who's clutching her throat, nearing unconsciousness due to a lack of oxygen.
His gaze lingered on Rasa for a heartbeat — cold, assessing — after he dispersed the water prison, causing Pakura to collapse, gasping, into the sand.
I exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours, my knees buckling beneath the strain of the failing exoskeleton. The whir of actuators dulled into silence.
And for the first time, the battlefield… was quiet.
"Tch. Reinforcements," he muttered, his grip tightening on the Executioner Blade. "Seems the intel from Iwagakure was wrong after all…" he picks up the Kiba blades and flickers away. The rest of the surviving Seven Swordsmen following behind him, retrieving their fallen comrades and blades as they vanished into the haze.
His word lingered.
Iwagakure.
He seemed to mention Iwagakures involvement as a political play, possibly planting a seed, attempting to divert the brunt of a potential Suna counterattack.
Upon the mention of Iwagakure's involvement, Rasa's eyes squinted in speculation.
Knowing his capabilities and the second most proficient user of Magnet release after the Third, he's knows that he's next in line for the position of next Kazekage. Elders have mentioned the idea prior, during council meetings and now that the Third Kazekages has yet to be found, it seems to be a real possibility.
But being forcefully ascended to the position of Kazekage, especially during the tumultuous state the village is now undergoing, vulnerable, politically and militarily. He must prove to not only the Elders but the villagers themselves that he's capable of handling the nuanced politics involved with leading a village.
A light breeze swept the sand between us, carrying the metallic tang of blood. Rasa lowered his hand, his golden barrier dissolving into glittering specks that faded into the fog. His gaze finally shifted to me.
"Kid. Can you stand?", Rasa says to me flatly ,I clenched my teeth, as I grab my injured arm with one knee still buckled to the floor.
My adrenaline rush has worn out,pain is still radiating in my arm but even then I mutter wincing out : "I'll manage."
"Good, take that Scorch Release girl to the hospital to get treated.
You kids did well… better than I expected. You guys are a valuable asset to the Sand village, remember that."
Moments later at Sunagakure hospital
"Sora what were you thinking, going out to the battlefield by yourself!" Chiyo reprimanded me as the green glow of healing chakra emanates from her palm treating my injured arm.
"I had no other choice! There was no one in the village and Pakura was fighting alone!"
Her hands paused for a moment, the familiar crease between her brows deepening. "…It's good you were thinking of the village," she said finally, her voice softening, just slightly. "But that doesn't mean you should throw your life away so recklessly."
"What else should I ha…"
Before I could answer, a sharp rustle came from behind the curtain of the neighboring bed—followed by a loud, panicked voice.
Sora!
Jerking upright from the hospital bed, her hands clutching the sheets tightly. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead, her breathing ragged as her eyes darted around the sterile room.
A soft chuckle broke the silence.
"Relax, my grandson is doing just fine," Chiyo said calmly, with a faint smirk.
Pakura blinked.
"Huh? Lady Chiyo?"
Her gaze darted around the hospital room, landing on Granny Chiyo and then me. Her eyes widened briefly,—then her entire face flushed a deep, furious red.
"W-what are you talking about?! It's not like I was worried or anything!" she snapped, tugging the blanket up to her chin and turning away.
I couldn't help but let out a small laugh, which only made Pakura bury herself deeper under the cover.