The moment Tenkū and Chiyo's devastating clash ended, the vacant space they left behind was immediately swallowed by chaos.
Thousands of shinobi surged into the gap, and the battlefield's fury reignited. The air was thick with the scent of blood and ozone, as if the very earth trembled beneath the clash of chakra.
At their feet lay the fallen — comrades and enemies alike — but there was no time to mourn.
Only one thought remained in every heart: defeat the enemy before you die.
Among the storm of combatants moved a single boy, small and fast, like a streak of lightning through the downpour.
Uchiha Hayashi.
Only ten years old, yet his presence on the battlefield sent ripples through both friend and foe alike.
No one dared to underestimate him.
To the Konoha forces, he was a prodigy and symbol of hope. To the enemy, a reaper cloaked in blood.
His Sharingan glowed crimson in the mist, eyes tracing every twitch of motion. With a single genjutsu or flash of his Body Flicker Technique, lives were snuffed out before they could even scream.
He was not fighting like a Chūnin — his power rivaled that of seasoned Jōnin.
Kunai gleamed in his hands, lightning danced around his fingers, and the rain washed away the blood that stained his dark cloak. It was a terrible, almost artistic sight — the beauty of death in motion.
Without realizing it, many Konoha ninjas had begun moving instinctively around him, using his presence as an anchor in the chaos. Age didn't matter on the battlefield. Only strength did.
"Hayashi…"
At the battlefield's edge, Namikaze Minato had just cut down another Iwagakure shinobi when his gaze caught sight of his friend. The sight froze him for a second.
He had sparred with Hayashi countless times, but only now did he realize the true extent of his strength. Shock was quickly replaced by determination.
"I'll catch up to you one day," Minato whispered under his breath, then dashed forward once more.
Not far from Hayashi, Nawaki fought fiercely against an Iwa Chūnin, his Water Release washing away chunks of earth as he gained the upper hand.
Behind Hayashi, Uchiha Mikoto stood firm, guarding his back. Her single-tomoe Sharingan spun rapidly as she intercepted any enemy who tried to ambush him.
"Don't get cocky, Uchiha brat!"
Several Sand ninjas shouted as they closed in on Mikoto. Their coordinated assault forced her on the defensive, her small frame weaving between their strikes with precise movements.
Her Sharingan's tomoe whirled faster, reading their attacks a heartbeat ahead. At the last instant, she ducked low and drove her kunai forward, aiming for a gap in one enemy's defense.
The ninja reacted, twisting his blade in a desperate counter. But Mikoto saw it — her Sharingan's insight saved her again. She pivoted and slipped past the attack, landing lightly.
Another enemy's fist came crashing toward her. Instead of dodging, Mikoto locked eyes with him. His body froze mid-punch, caught in her genjutsu. A moment later, a kunai embedded itself in his chest.
She exhaled sharply, sweat mixing with rain, but her stance never faltered.
Everyone was fighting for their lives.
Hayashi, watching her from a short distance, felt a flicker of pride before refocusing on his own opponent. The battlefield demanded absolute focus. Distraction meant death.
His chakra reserves were already strained. After the earlier battles — especially the string of Jōnin he had slain — his stamina was dropping fast.
And now, most nearby enemies had learned to avoid eye contact, wary of his Sharingan's genjutsu. They were getting smarter.
"Earth Release: Rock Fist Technique!"
The ground before him erupted. Chunks of stone rose into the air, merging into a massive rocky fist that hurtled toward Hayashi.
He didn't retreat. Instead, chakra surged through his arm.
"Super Strength Fist!"
His strike shattered the stone construct into rubble.
The Sand ninja who launched the attack used the debris as cover and lunged forward, blade flashing in the storm.
"Earth Release: Earth Flow Wall!"
A wall of earth shot up between them, barely concealing Hayashi's silhouette. The enemy leapt, preparing to slice through the barrier — but Hayashi was already weaving hand signs.
The faint sound of birds chirping filled the air.
[Chidori!]
Lightning erupted from his palm. In a blinding flash, Hayashi drove his arm straight through the earthen wall — and through his opponent.
The Sand Jōnin froze, eyes wide with disbelief. He had never imagined a shinobi would destroy his own defense to attack.
The lightning pierced clean through his abdomen. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air.
"Die," Hayashi said quietly, his tone flat.
He flicked his wrist and hurled a kunai at the dying ninja's head — but before it landed, a surge of sand erupted from the ground, knocking it aside.
The sand coalesced into a thick barrier in front of the wounded Jōnin.
"Another Sand ninja," Hayashi muttered, eyes narrowing.
The new arrival raised his hand, and the sand wall exploded into a wave that surged toward Hayashi like a living creature.
Hayashi leapt high, the sand crashing beneath him like an ocean tide.
From midair, his voice rang out.
"Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!"
Four serpents shot from his sleeves, their scales glinting wet under the rain. The gray snakes slithered through the air and coiled around Mikoto, Nawaki, and the nearby Konoha ninjas, yanking them clear of the incoming sand wave.
"You guys, fall back now!" he shouted.
The rescued ninjas retreated immediately, knowing better than to argue. The scale of the sand technique could easily wipe them out if they stayed.
But the Sand ninja sneered. "You're not going anywhere!"
He clenched his fist. Streams of sand whipped forward, wrapping around Hayashi's legs in midair.
"Desert Burial!"
The sand constricted violently, crushing everything within its grasp.
The earth trembled.
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