"Again—again he blocked it!"
"So strong! What kind of defensive ninjutsu is that?"
Seeing Makoto once again take the Raikage's attack without injury, the ordinary Konoha ninja were already numb with shock. They immediately began asking around about this miraculous life-preserving ninjutsu.
After all, as ninja, everyone understood that their own bodies were their fatal weakness. A ninja could level an entire residential district with a single technique, yet also be killed by a tiny shuriken.
If they could master this kind of defensive method, wouldn't that mean they wouldn't die so casually in the future?
The jōnin collectively let out a breath of relief. They couldn't figure out how things had suddenly developed like this. They had originally been prepared for an all-out battle with the Kumo ninja, yet the group fight had suddenly turned into a one-on-one duel.
What kind of third-rate Warring States novel trash plot was this—two armies facing off and first sending out their main generals to duel? The problem was, their current main general was supposed to be jōnin Minato.
But since this junior had already agreed to the Raikage in front of both sides' ninja, there was no longer any possibility of retreat. It was no longer just his own matter.
Gekkō Kumomi, Sarutobi Hiyoma, Hyūga Hiashi, and other jōnin who knew Makoto were fully focused, ready to step in at any moment to save him and then start a fight with the Kumo ninja.
Minato, in particular, had kept the Flying Thunder God Technique activated the entire time. Makoto had his kunai on him. He was confident that the moment the defensive ninjutsu was broken, he could pull him out.
He could not allow what happened to Obito and Rin to happen again.
For the Kumo ninja, the gradually darkening sky reflected their current mood.
It wasn't that they doubted their leader's attack power. They were considering another issue: if all Konoha ninja possessed this level of defense, how would this war continue? How would their hidden villages survive in the ninja world in the future?
After the Fourth Raikage jumped back once more, he finally began to seriously size up this brat he had thought only knew how to talk big. At the same time, he started thinking about a serious problem.
That was, he was now disgusted to death—damn uncomfortable—simply stuck in an impossible position.
Although his outward behavior seemed just as reckless as those big, dark, burly men in the village, it didn't mean he didn't use his brain. Otherwise, he wouldn't have become the Raikage.
Originally, when he said he would let Makoto take three of his attacks, it had just been said casually—to knock down a sharp-tongued brat while taking the opportunity to mock Konoha, then use it as a pretext to withdraw his men.
His hot blood told him he wanted to go all out here. But the rationality of being the leader of a village told him he could not. If something went wrong here, that old fox Ōnoki would certainly not miss the chance to strike at their Kumogakure.
As it turned out, that little bastard didn't follow the script—he actually agreed.
That was how they in Kumogakure always did things: they liked to ask for the moon. If they could squeeze out benefits, that was profit; if they couldn't, they could still overwhelm the other side in momentum—spiritual victory. Either way, they won.
So since the other side had agreed, he didn't mind killing a Konoha genius.
The problem was, his two all-out strikes hadn't taken the other side down.
That made things bad.
Now the key point was that he could no longer throw the third attack, because whether he struck or not, he would lose.
If he killed that brat, it wouldn't be glorious. A dignified Raikage killing a Konoha brat, and needing three attacks to do it—people would think he was a fraud.
If he couldn't kill him, then it would be even more humiliating. After that, whenever he went out, he'd have to wear a sack over his head so no one could recognize him.
And he had a feeling that the result of the third strike probably wouldn't be much better. Kumogakure's strongest attack secret technique—the "Hell Stab" series, the strongest spear developed by his father—was something he hadn't mastered very well.
So he had to come up with a best-of-both-worlds solution.
He had it.
The Raikage's eyes lit up. Looking at Makoto with an appreciative gaze, he asked, "Brat, what's your name?"
"Konoha ninja, Higashino Makoto."
"Good, good. Konoha truly deserves to be called the village founded by the God of Shinobi. It really is a place where geniuses emerge in droves—there's even such a powerful defensive ninjutsu."
"You're so young, yet you can already wield it skillfully—you're a genius too. It would be a pity for you to die. I won't use my strongest third strike on you, because I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of light you'll shine in the ninja world in the future."
Makoto: "..."
"Higashino Makoto, right? To survive two strikes from me, you should feel proud. When we meet again, I'll call you the Shield of Konoha."
Makoto: "..."
He finally understood what this big, burly man—coarse on the outside but meticulous on the inside—was planning.
So your teacher wasn't your father, the Third Raikage, but the so-called demigod of the ninja world, Hanzō of the Salamander, right? It must be, right!
All the Kumo ninja felt that their leader's image at this moment was upright and great. A small number of clear-headed Kumogakure jōnin quietly lowered their heads, their feelings difficult to put into words.
Thanks for the invitation. I'm on the battlefield. I've just listened to the Raikage's speech. Those who understand, understand. Those who don't—don't ask. And if you really want to ask, first check whether your neck can withstand a Lightning-Style Heat Blade.
After giving Makoto a slight nod to show approval, the Raikage swiftly turned to look at Konoha's decision-maker.
"Namikaze Minato, let's leave it at that for today. Konoha has earned my recognition through strength. So, how about it—shall we cooperate and pull that old ghost Ōnoki down from the sky together?"
Minato remained perfectly clear-headed.
"Apologies, Raikage-dono. The war between Konoha and Iwagakure has already ended. Now, as long as Kumogakure withdraws, this war will truly come to an end. I believe that is what you should be considering."
"An end? Heh. You're too naïve. A peace agreement is nothing but a sheet of paper. Ōnoki will not abandon his ambitions toward Konoha. He hasn't even signed an agreement with you."
"That is a matter between Konoha and Iwagakure. There is no need for Raikage-dono to concern himself."
"Heh. Just watch. You'll understand soon enough. That old thing Ōnoki cannot be trusted."
After saying that, the Raikage ordered his subordinates to carry away the bodies of their fallen comrades.
They left with great momentum.
"Shield of Konoha, turtle shell hard! Bakayarō! Konoyarō, oh yeah!" Killer B's bored rap provided background music for their departure.
The Konoha ninja: "..."
That was it? No need to fight? Why did it feel so inexplicable? Then how should today's events be described?
How else could it be described? Of course it was Konoha's victory. Not only had they completely cleared out the Kumo ninja south of the Konoha defensive line within the Land of Hot Water, avenged those bastards' attempt to seize the Byakugan, and eliminated future trouble, they had also forced back the Kumo AB Combination.
If that wasn't victory, then what was?
Forget it. No matter how you calculated it, it was a win. They would cheer first. The ordinary ninja didn't care about so much. As long as they had survived a major battle today and didn't have to die, that was enough.
"Victory! Long live Konoha!"
"We won!"
Some even rushed forward and tossed Makoto into the air.
"Shield of Konoha! Shield of Konoha!"
Suspended in midair, Makoto looked at the moon above and felt speechless. Damn it—this wouldn't become his title in the ninja world from now on, just like the Sannin of Konoha, would it?
The problem was, it wasn't just that his defense was strong—his attack power was formidable too. For the Raikage's third strike, he had originally planned not to use defensive ninjutsu. He had wanted to use a new technique to counterattack instead of defend.
There was no reason the Raikage could strike him while he didn't strike back.
Who would have thought that bastard would play the "admiring the younger generation" card and bring the duel to such an abrupt end?
No, in the future he had to find a way to get rid of this lousy title. Otherwise, it would make him look like he was walking around with a turtle shell on his back, only capable of defense.
And if he couldn't get rid of it, then he would learn from the Dragon Mother—pile on enough resounding titles so that this broken "Shield of Konoha" would be drowned out among them and become inconspicuous.
Yūgao didn't care about any of that. She jumped to Makoto's side and pulled him into her arms, completely ignoring the whistles from the bored men nearby.
"You're not allowed to do something so dangerous again, understand, Makoto? You scared me to death!"
"Don't worry, Yūgao. I know my limits."
Kakashi, standing in the crowd, looked at the junior being cared for by his teammates. There was a trace of sorrow in his eyes. If—if he had possessed such powerful defensive ability as well, he should have been able to protect Obito and Rin.
Higashino Makoto—he hoped he would continue to grow stronger, protect his teammates well, and never have to taste the same pain he had.
Minato noticed Kakashi's sorrow. He patted his disciple on the shoulder, then walked over to Makoto.
"Makoto, you created a miracle. But as a ninja, you must obey orders. Don't act recklessly like that again."
"I will, Minato-senpai. Oh, right—your kunai."
Minato glanced at it and said, "It's your kunai now. I'm giving it to you as a memento of this victory."
Makoto: "..."
Did this count as Minato planting a marker on him?
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