The chain of explosions thundered for nearly ten seconds, swallowing the desert in flame and smoke.
The blast from hundreds of linked explosive tags was terrifying — the sound alone made the air tremble — but the cost was equally steep.
Lock exhaled sharply as the final detonation faded. His chakra reserves had dropped by nearly a third. The sheer number of tags — over five hundred — drained his focus as well as his wallet. But the results were worth it.
With his refined chakra control, every explosion burned hotter than usual — ten, maybe twenty percent more powerful than a standard detonation. That amplification, multiplied across hundreds of tags, unleashed a destructive wave on par with an S-rank jutsu.
Even Scorpion, standing dozens of meters away, could feel the heat ripple against his cloak. His sharp eyes gleamed.
He had joined forces with Lock, expecting to use him as cannon fodder — a distraction to buy time for his own killing strike. But the ferocity of Lock's Eight Gates and this orchestrated bombardment left him genuinely impressed.
"If that can't kill him…" Scorpion muttered, Then he truly is the strongest Kazekage."
He was right to doubt.
A black silhouette burst from the rolling smoke — the Third Kazekage, battered but alive.
Lock's jaw tightened. "Of course."
The Kazekage's armor of iron sand had saved him. Even so, his body was scorched and bloodied, his robes shredded down to burnt underlayers. He looked less like the proud leader of the Sand and more like a survivor clawing out of a battlefield grave.
The man wiped soot from his face, his expression as cold as ever.
"It's been a long time," he said quietly, "since anyone has managed to make me look this pathetic."
His tone was flat, but the fury beneath it was palpable — the kind of anger that made seasoned shinobi tremble, not roar.
Lock smirked faintly. You should've seen yourself earlier when that blob ambushed you, old man.
But his thought was cut short.
The Kazekage's voice boomed, echoing with chakra:
"Magnet Release — Iron Sand World Method!"
The ground itself shuddered.
From every direction, iron sand surged upward, twisting into vast walls lined with countless spear-like spikes. Within seconds, a black, metallic dome encased everything — a cage bristling with lethal thorns that sealed the entire battlefield in a radius of dozens of meters.
Even Scorpion's eyes widened. "Not good — Lock! That's his strongest jutsu! Get out of there!"
He didn't need the warning.
Lock's body flashed — a shimmer of green light, and he was gone. In a blink, he reappeared several hundred meters outside the sand-iron dome.
The Kazekage's expression darkened. No one had ever escaped his Iron Sand World after it was cast — not even other Kage. Lock was the first.
"This power… that was no simple speed technique," he murmured. "He slipped through magnetic confinement itself. That's… space–time ninjutsu."
His eyes narrowed further. "Could it be Konoha's Second Hokage's Flying Thunder God?"
The Third Kazekage had studied under the first two leaders of the Sand — veterans of both great ninja wars. He had heard plenty of stories about Tobirama Senju and his terrifying teleportation jutsu. Watching Lock flicker out of his ultimate trap, the comparison felt chillingly apt.
"Such a convenient ability…"
Inside the metallic dome, Scorpion muttered bitterly, glancing toward Lock's distant figure. "If I had that, I'd have killed him years ago."
The Kazekage turned his gaze toward the young puppeteer.
"Then I'll start with you," he said coldly. "Once you're dead, I'll deal with the other one."
"Kill me?" Scorpion's lips curled into a smirk. "You think you can?"
He wasn't afraid. If he dared challenge the Kazekage, it was because he had already prepared for this outcome. Lock's appearance had only complicated things — not changed them.
The remnants of his previous puppets lay destroyed, but Scorpion simply unrolled a new scroll.
"Karakuri no Jūnin."
With a burst of smoke, ten fresh puppets appeared, surrounding him in a deadly circle.
The Kazekage's brow furrowed.
"Controlling ten puppets simultaneously… at fifteen years old. Just like Chiyo. No — sharper than her, perhaps."
His voice hardened.
"But even if you command a hundred, none will escape this cage alive."
Far outside the dome, Lock stood with his blade lowered, eyes narrowed.
He could hear the rumbling within the Iron Sand World, the clang of metal and chakra collisions echoing like thunder.
He wasn't running — he was waiting. Watching. Calculating.
Scorpion had wanted him to draw the Kazekage's focus. Now the tables had turned. Lock would let the puppet master test the defenses, and when the moment came — when both were spent — he'd strike.
Three warriors, three intentions, each reading the others like weapons in a silent game of death.
The air shimmered with tension.
And deep inside the dome, sparks began to fly.
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