Uchiha Gen's spirit form glided beneath the earth for a time before suddenly shooting upward, arcing across the sky in a vast, nearly invisible curve, then plunging into the supply transfer station.
A flicker of chakra
Swish!
And his body vanished from the lounge.
At the base of Lion Head Mountain's western slope, Gen reappeared through the Flying Thunder God Technique and immediately began striding toward the mountainside.
But the moment his chakra signature flared, the Mist sensory-nin locked onto him.
"Hiss… what terrifying chakra!"
"This is already at the Kage level!"
Ever since awakening his Mangekyō Sharingan, Gen's chakra had surged into the Kage tier.
He wasn't overflowing with raw reserves like a Jinchūriki, but his energy was firmly in the upper ranks of Kage-level shinobi. And his body was still maturing, his well would only deepen with time.
Hearing the sensory-nin's exclamations, Hōzuki Mangetsu's face darkened.
Among Konoha's frontline elites, only Orochimaru and the young vice-commander Uchiha Gen carried chakra of this scale.
Damn brat… to wield such force at that age was already frightening. Worse, he had slipped past their perception, assassinating ten Mist elites without a trace during the detection gaps.
It was absurd, abnormal and again infuriating.
But Mangetsu didn't flinch. Even with ten gone, his squad still held enough strength to drag down a Kage-level shinobi, so long as they coordinated.
"Report. His current position?"
"At the west foothill."
"He's moving closer."
"Then recall the locations of the vanished chakra signatures."
The sensory-nin quickly recited. With each position listed, Mangetsu's expression grew uglier. By the end, his face was thunder.
All Jonin and Special Jonin. Their most valuable combatants and not a single Chunin.
How had Gen singled them out so precisely?
Their combat power had been gutted before the fight even began.
"Keep your senses sharp. Do not relax for a moment. Konoha reinforcements could arrive at any time."
That was the logical concern. Normally, a lone Kage-level shinobi would struggle against a squad of five Jonin and a host of Chunin. Even a prodigy would risk being overwhelmed. Only freaks like Minato Namikaze or the Third Raikage could ignore those odds.
"Understood."
"On guard."
Swish, swish, swish
Within moments, the remaining seventeen Mist-nin converged on the mountainside.
"Mangetsu, what's going on?" asked the vice-captain, Minazuki Tō.
Mangetsu scanned the gathered faces, noting the missing Jonin. His last shred of optimism died.
"Uchiha Gen found our ambush. He evaded our senses and silently eliminated ten of our number. Everyone still absent is already dead. Brace yourselves as a brutal fight is coming."
"What?!" Minazuki Tō gasped.
Around her, the others quickly checked who was missing. Their faces tightened. Every absence was a high-ranking shinobi.
"The enemy's moving again."
"Wait, he's circling us?"
"Trying to stall for reinforcements?"
"If he wanted to stall, he could just hold position. There's some trick here. Stay alert."
They speculated nervously, while in truth Gen was laying down Flying Thunder God markers, fencing them in like sheep.
Mangetsu cut off the chatter with a sharp tone. "Enough. Kill Uchiha Gen and all this will be worth it."
Veterans to the last, the Mist-nin hardened their resolve. Weapons flashed free, chakra surged.
"The enemy is here."
In the next heartbeat, Uchiha Gen descended like a hawk, landing atop a pale boulder. His black-and-silver patterned coat whipped in the wind.
Slowly, he rose to his full height, crimson Sharingan spinning as he gazed down on the twenty Mist-nin. His aura was cold, domineering, a blade honed to perfection.
"Listen well. You are surrounded," he declared, voice dripping with scorn. "By me. Alone. Surrender, and perhaps you'll keep your miserable lives."
Mangetsu and his squad instinctively glanced at the sensory-nin.
Kondō Kunihiko and Sakata Junichi exchanged uneasy looks. "Captain… we haven't sensed any other Konoha chakra," Kunihiko said.
"Not within our range," Junichi added quickly.
Gen sighed, shaking his head as though disappointed by their stupidity. "I said me. Not us. You are surrounded by me alone. Can't even understand that much? Truly pathetic."
The Mist-nin: "???"
One man… surrounding us?
Whose brain was broken here?
Mangetsu's instincts screamed. His eyes widened. "He's stalling! Kill him immediately!"
The squad reacted instantly. Kunai and shuriken darkened the air, eighteen shinobi launching a storm of steel. Even simple tools, multiplied by eighteen veterans, formed a deadly barrage like the Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique.
But Gen didn't even twitch.
With a smooth backhand, he drew Shizukamaru, his blade flashing three times in a seamless arc, horizontal, rising, then vertical.
Vacuum Sword.
Invisible wind blades spun together into a lethal net.
Clang, clang, clang!
Kunai and shuriken ricocheted away in sparks. The net swept forward, forcing the Mist-nin back before it slammed into the ground.
Boom!
Earth split, stone shattered, smoke and dust surging outward.
"Chunin use tools! Jonin use Ninjutsu!" Mangetsu barked, hands already flying through seals.
"Shuryu!"
A roar answered. With a flash of crimson light, the fiery beast appeared, swelling in size before vomiting a river of flame. The inferno swept forward, heat so fierce it melted what remained of the iron projectiles midair.
But Gen was already moving. Shizukamaru crackled with lightning, then spat five blue-white bolts, thin as fingers, fast as light, straight toward the brows of five Jonin.
Shock rippled through the targets. They abandoned their jutsu and flickered away just as the bolts exploded, blasting craters in earth and blackening the grass.
Gen let Shizukamaru fall back, his hands diving into his pouch. Eight specially marked Flying Thunder God kunai whistled into the air, scattered in a deadly pattern each one angled toward a vital line of retreat.
His eyes gleamed. The pen was closed. The sheep penned in.