The desert exploded with motion.
The instant Uchiha Gen and Rasa clashed, yellow sand surged skyward, kicked up by the sheer velocity of their movements. Dust waves rolled behind both men, but the one trailing Gen rose higher, sharper, alive with the raw pressure of his chakra.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Their fists and feet collided in rapid succession, heavy and unembellished. No tricks, no wasted movements—only raw taijutsu exchanged at breakneck speed.
Each strike landed solidly. Every parry sent ripples through the air.
But Rasa soon realized his mistake.
He'd tried to overpower Gen in close combat—a disastrous choice. Gen's speed, strength, and reflexes far exceeded his own, and the glow of the Sharingan tracked every twitch of Rasa's muscles.
Within seconds, Gen found an opening. He feinted low, drew Rasa's guard aside, then drove an uppercut square into his chin.
Rasa's head snapped back as his body lifted off the ground, feet leaving the sand for a brief, helpless instant—
Then Gen spun with surgical precision, his side kick connecting with both of Rasa's forearms as the Kazekage barely crossed them in defense.
Boom!
The impact thundered through the dunes. Rasa was launched backward, crashing into the sand and skidding over twenty meters before grinding to a stop, his cloak torn and his breath ragged.
Before he could recover, Gen was already moving.
His hand reached for Shizukamaru—the sword sliding free with a hiss of lightning. Blue-white arcs crackled along the blade as Gen slashed downward, sending a bolt thick as a man's wrist screaming toward Rasa's head.
Rasa rolled sideways, sand spraying in every direction, and sprang up into a crouch. His palms slammed against the desert floor.
"Magnet Release: Golden Sand Shield!"
Gold-flecked sand surged up in twin semicircles—one overhead, one in front—deflecting the lightning bolt from above and the slicing wind that Gen followed with from the front.
But Gen was relentless. He flicked his wrist, and Shizukamaru extended like a living conduit. Lightning burst down its length, focused and compressed into a piercing electromagnetic thrust.
Pffft!
The golden shield cracked and split as the thrust tore through. Rasa dodged again, but not fast enough—the front of his uniform ripped open, and a hot line of pain grazed his chest.
He leaned back just in time for another blade of lightning to sear past, grazing the bridge of his nose. The faint scent of ozone stung the air.
Rasa flipped backward, landing low. His hands pressed to the sand again, chakra flooding downward. The earth responded like a living thing—sand-gold bursting up in torrents.
Some wrapped around him protectively; the rest sharpened into a field of gleaming spears.
"Magnet Release: Golden Spear Barrage!"
Hundreds of glimmering lances launched simultaneously, streaking through the air like a golden rainstorm.
Gen inhaled deeply. "Wind Release: Vacuum Great Sphere!"
He expelled a sphere of compressed air that shot forward with blinding speed.
BOOM!
The blast met the incoming spears midair. The shockwave detonated outward, shredding the closest projectiles into glittering fragments. The rest were blown wildly off course, their trajectories scattering like shattered stars.
Rasa's eyes narrowed. He slapped his palms down again.
"Magnet Release: Sand Gold Great Burial!"
A tsunami of gold erupted around him, cresting into waves over thirty meters high. The flood advanced with terrifying momentum, swallowing the desert in its path.
The attack was devastating—but Gen only smiled.
He jumped high, chakra flaring beneath his feet as Kyouki materialized from the sky, swooping in on cue. Gen landed smoothly on its back, and they ascended together into the blinding light.
Above the desert, the creature expanded. Clouds rolled outward in a vast circle, the sun vanishing behind roiling darkness.
Then... lightning.
White-hot bolts lanced downward like spears from the heavens, striking Rasa's position with explosive force.
The Kazekage countered instantly, drawing sand up into domes and barriers. Each impact sent shockwaves rumbling across the dunes, geysers of molten glass forming where sand had fused under the heat.
Still, he didn't falter. Even while defending, Rasa's control was surgical. Spears of sand-gold launched from within his shield, streaking upward toward the dark clouds where Gen and Kyouki hovered.
But their power bled away before reaching the heights, and those that didn't—simply disintegrated on impact.
Then the sky ignited.
Gen emerged from the thundercloud astride Shuryu, a dragon of living flame over thirty meters long. Its eyes blazed molten gold as it roared, and its breath poured forth, a torrent of liquid fire that turned pure white under the amplification of Gen's Wind Release.
The air shimmered. The heat alone warped the horizon.
Rasa's composure cracked. He raised both hands, gathering all nearby sand-gold into an enormous fortress.
The inferno crashed against it like a waterfall of molten stars. The sand sizzled red, melting into rivers of liquid metal. Inside, the temperature soared rapidly—an oven with no escape.
Rasa didn't hesitate. He vanished underground a split second before the molten layer collapsed.
But to Gen, his movements were plain as day.
"Got you," he murmured.
Shuryu's chest began to glow again, preparing another strike, while Kyouki's lightning flared overhead, ready to converge.
Yet the Kazekage wasn't finished.
"Magnet Release: Golden Sand Waves!"
From the ground erupted eight towering jets of sand-gold, like geysers of liquid light. They converged from all directions toward Gen and his dragons.
Shuryu released its charged flames upward, blasting higher into the air. The geysers collided midair, detonating into a shimmering golden rain that fell softly across the battlefield.
Then, Rasa's real form emerged from the far edge of the thundercloud.
"Now!" Gen commanded.
Kyouki answered instantly. The lightning it had stored crackled together, forming a blinding white column as thick as a tree trunk...
KA-BOOM!
The bolt struck Rasa dead-on, lighting up the storm like day. Sand exploded skyward, and the ground itself fused into glassy crystal beneath the impact.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then Gen spoke calmly, arms crossed atop Shuryu's head. "Don't worry. Your Kazekage isn't dead, just a sand clone."
Sure enough, another Rasa rose from the dunes a moment later. Chiyo, Ebizō, and even Pakura let out quiet sighs of relief.
Pakura's eyes softened slightly. As much as she despised Rasa, she didn't want his blood on Gen's hands—not here, not in front of everyone.
Gen looked down, voice steady. "Kazekage-san, do you still wish to continue?"
The question hung in the scorching air.
Though the fight hadn't lasted long, Gen had already seen enough. His assessment was complete. He now fully understood Rasa's abilities—his range, his control, his limits.
Once this intel reached Fuguki and the others, the odds of taking Rasa down would be overwhelming.
Rasa exhaled slowly, staring up into the storm. "If Gen-san intends only to rely on his aerial advantage," he said evenly, "then there's no point in continuing."
Gen's lips quirked faintly. "Kazekage-san can fly too. Why not join me in the sky?"
Rasa's mouth twitched. Yes, he could fly—but not like Gen. His maneuverability, his techniques, his endurance in the air were all inferior. Up there, he'd be slaughtered.
He straightened his shoulders. "Hmph. Enough. I admit—Uchiha Gen is worthy of his reputation."
He turned away, gathering his scattered garments and retrieving his Kazekage hat and robe from the sand. "I'll uphold my promise."
With that, he stepped onto a mass of sand-gold and rose into the air, flying slowly back toward Sunagakure.
Gen watched him leave, then dismounted from Shuryu as the great dragon dissolved into glowing embers.
Pakura descended beside him, her expression unreadable. Together, they made their way back to the village.
At Pakura's home, the tension of battle faded. They cooked together, quietly at first, then laughing, the scent of grilled food and spices mingling with the dry desert air.
They ate until full, then lingered long into the afternoon, basking in a rare moment of calm.
As sunset painted the dunes crimson, Gen finally stood, adjusting his cloak. "Time to go."
Pakura walked him to the door. The wind carried grains of sand that shimmered like gold dust in the dying light.
Without another word, Gen disappeared into the desert horizon—heading east, toward Konoha.
The storm had passed. For now.