Roshi subtly shifted his stance, his left hand brushing his waist. A second kunai slipped into his palm, its blade tip hidden in the shadow of his sleeve.
Focus. Refine.
Pale-blue chakra flared to life, burning like ghostly fire as it surged over his entire body.
Boom!
A violent gale burst outward from where he stood. Dust, rubble, and shattered weapons were flung away, crushed beneath the weight of raw chakra pressure.
Jubei faltered mid-swing, surprise flashing across his face as the sheer force of chakra alone interrupted his motion.
So this wasn't even the boy's peak strength.
For a teenager to wield chakra like this—it was monstrous. 'So this is the power of a Great Ninja Village…'
The thought flickered, but his face betrayed nothing.
"Bluffing!" Jubei snarled, forcing his massive frame to stabilize under the crushing pressure. His blade swept sideways in a molten arc, a curtain of fire aimed to cleave Roshi clean at the waist.
And in that instant, Roshi found his opening.
Whoosh!
From within his sleeve, his left hand lashed out, faster than sight. The concealed kunai shot forward in a perfect, ruthless line—driving straight for the old scar beneath Jubei's right chest, just under the ribcage.
There.
"—?! Ugh!"
Jubei's body lurched with desperate speed, his arm flying up to shield himself.
Too fast. Too close. Too late.
Time seemed to stretch thin, freezing the moment in glass.
The massive man stopped cold. His blade hovered mid-air, the eerie blue flames around him sputtering like dying embers, flickering wildly before beginning to gutter out.
In his crimson eyes, the frenzy drained like a retreating tide, leaving only bottomless weariness, and emptiness.
With agonizing slowness, he lowered his gaze.
There it was: the kunai buried to the hilt below his right rib, seeping a warm, viscous fluid that wasn't quite blood. Droplets spattered against the cracked bluestone at his feet.
His colossal frame swayed. The flames winked out, revealing skin collapsing into decay before Roshi's eyes.
"The result…" Jubei—no, Meishoku, leader of the Black Snake Group—lifted his head, staring past Roshi at the courtyard sky.
His eyes held no hatred. No regret. Only endless exhaustion, and sparks long extinguished.
"…It didn't succeed."
His words fell like stones. Then his body toppled, crashing to earth with a thunderous impact that sent dust spiraling into the air before settling in silence.
Roshi wrenched the kunai free, shaking off the viscous residue that clung to it—too strange to be called blood.
He hurried to Shizune's side. Her palm, glowing with green light, pressed against the boy's waist.
Itachi's face was deathly pale, lips tinged with blue-purple.
"Shizune-san, how is he?" Roshi asked.
"It's not poison," Shizune replied quickly, her brow furrowed. "It's… something else. An erosion of foreign energy. Itachi-kun can't move for now, but with Katsuyu-sama's help, I can keep it from getting worse."
From the backyard, the rumble of explosions and shouts swelled, growing more urgent.
Roshi rose, resolve hardening. "I'll leave him to you. I have to end this fight—only then will we have space to save him."
He strode toward the inner residence.
At the corridor's far end, the Hebizu master of the Water Erosion Insects, enraged by the ceaseless bombardment, aimed his gourd at the watchtower.
Black water spilled forth—and instantly writhed upward, pulled by an unseen will.
It twisted and gathered, reshaping into monstrous serpents, each formed from wriggling swarms of insects.
The black pythons reared, countless mouthparts forming hideous heads that shrieked with piercing cries before lunging toward Jirocho and his guards on the watchtower.
"Jirocho-sama!" a guard shouted, yanking him back just as a python struck.
Crunch!
A scream tore the air. One guard was skewered clean through, his body instantly engulfed in a flood of insects.
The sound of chittering mandibles and tearing flesh filled the courtyard. In mere seconds, the man's body collapsed into a smoking skeleton, gnawed clean before horrified eyes.
"No—!" another guard screamed as a python's strike grazed his arm. The flesh blackened instantly, rotting as countless tiny insects burrowed deep beneath his skin. He collapsed, writhing and shrieking in agony.
Jirocho, bloodied and fallen, eyes blazing red with rage, seized an arrow bundled with explosive tags. With the last of his strength, he hurled it at the nearest insect serpent.
BOOM!
Flame engulfed the swarm. The massive python convulsed, its outer shell of insects curling up, burning to ash in droves.
But the explosion's shockwave was too close!
The blast hurled Jirocho and his two remaining guards from the tower, slamming them to the ground like ragdolls.
Debris rained down. Jirocho's vision swam, his chest heaving, his ears ringing with white noise. Every breath seared with pain.
Yet still, he tried to rise.
"Ugh…" Jirocho struggled to push himself upright. A metallic sweetness filled his throat, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
The insect pythons coiled, ready to strike again—
"Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!"
Three brown serpents shot out toward Hebizu.
He didn't even turn his head.
His wide, oilcloth cloak rippled though there was no wind. From the mouth of the gourd, viscous black water surged like a living shield, rising to intercept the snakes with uncanny precision.
The serpents struck the black water—and the swarm waiting within it.
Shhhk!
The sound was horrific. Their scales and flesh dissolved as if plunged into acid, shredded by countless gnawing mandibles. In a single breath, two snakes were reduced to nothing—no bones, no scraps, not even ash.
"Tch—!" Anko's scalp prickled, her face paling.
Then, like a spark in the dark, a memory jolted her—Itachi's diversion earlier, the watchtower guards' constant barrage of explosive tag arrows, each blast forcing the insects to recoil.
Her eyes sharpened. She wove hand seals, drew in a deep breath, her chest rising high—
"Fire Release: Dragon Fire Jutsu!"
A crimson torrent of flame ripped through the damp, stagnant air, streaking straight for Hebizu and the writhing swarms before him.
The fire dragon struck true—slamming into the skull of a rearing insect python.
BOOM!!!
The collision erupted in a shower of fire and shrieks. Countless insects screeched as their bodies curled, charred, and burned to ash. The python's entire head disintegrated, its body collapsing into chaos, scattering backward in retreat.
"It works!" Anko's eyes lit up. Fire—they feared fire!
But Hebizu reacted even faster.
The remaining insect pythons whipped around, black serpents snapping through the air like giant lashes, hissing as they tore toward Anko. The swarm carried with it a foul, fishy wind that made her stomach churn.
"Watch out!!"
Jirocho's hoarse roar rang from the watchtower.
On his knees, he fumbled with trembling hands, strapping the last explosive tag to an arrow. Blood ran down his fingers as he notched it to his bow.
Too late. The pythons were already upon her.
Anko's pupils contracted. She twisted desperately to dodge, but her exhaustion and the slick ground betrayed her—her foot slipped.
Twang!
Jirocho loosed the arrow.
BOOOOM!!!
The explosion detonated at Hebizu's feet, flames and shockwaves surging skyward.
His cloak caught fire instantly, torn apart by the blast as his body was hurled several feet, crashing into the dark corridor beyond.
From the remnants of his cloak, an ear-splitting shriek tore out—the death cries of countless insects incinerated at once.
The python lunging at Anko unraveled midair, collapsing into a black rain. Insects pattered against the ground, most twitching once before curling into ash.
Opportunity.
Anko's eyes gleamed. Forcing her stance steady, she formed seals again, chakra surging.
Her target: the prone figure of Hebizu, sprawled in shadow, struggling to rise. His cloak was gone, revealing the grotesque grey-blue flesh beneath.
"Fire Release: Dragon Fire Jutsu!"
Another roaring stream of flame erupted, barreling down the corridor.
The inferno engulfed him.
Wooden beams splintered, flames devoured the walls, and the stench of burning insects mixed with the sharp tang of charred flesh. The air filled with a deafening chorus of sizzling, shrieking, and snapping wood before the flames drowned it all out.
The fire's glow painted Anko's face in shades of red, her sharp features fierce and resolute.
Jirocho slumped against the ground, his chest heaving, his pale face finally easing with relief.
He gazed at the churning inferno in the corridor's depths, listening to the roar of fire devouring everything.
It's over.
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