If only the Kumo and Iwa shinobi had been packed together when they fled.
Without Konoha lifting a hand, they would have smashed each other's brains out first.
But that was clearly impossible. No one was a fool. Everyone instinctively retreated toward their own headquarters—that was the natural choice.
The Konoha shinobi who had split into two routes did not pursue for long before ending the operation.
It was not because of any notion of sparing a cornered foe.
Rather, the Iwa or Kumo shinobi who had fallen behind were unexpectedly ferocious. Perhaps driven by hatred and determined to drag someone down with them before dying, or perhaps fighting desperately to create escape conditions for their comrades—in any case, they refused to surrender and counterattacked with their lives on the line.
Those slow-footed fellows succeeded. By the time the Konoha shinobi finished dealing with them, the enemies ahead had already vanished without a trace.
The shinobi who escaped with their lives proved a simple truth through action: no matter which world you are in, when danger strikes, you do not need to run faster than the hunter—you only need to run faster than your teammates to survive.
In this chaotic melee, Kumogakure and Iwagakure suffered grievous losses. Each side had fielded roughly a thousand shinobi, and fewer than ten to twenty percent managed to make it back.
Konoha did not come out unscathed either and likewise suffered heavy casualties, though its situation was far better than that of its two mortal enemies.
The only question was how the other battlefield, the one under Fugaku's command, had fared.
After reorganizing the troops, Jiraiya began directing everyone to clean up the battlefield. Medical teams from the rear moved in to treat the wounded from all three sides.
Now that the battle was over and Konoha had secured a decisive victory, Jiraiya changed faces as if flipping a mask. The cold commander was gone, as though the protagonist of one of his own novels had possessed him. He issued an order: there was no need to finish off surviving enemies; if they could be saved, then save them.
Though somewhat displeased, the Konoha shinobi did not disobey. As victors, displaying a measure of mercy greatly enhanced their sense of psychological superiority.
Look—Konoha is civilized. Not like those Iwa bumpkins or Kumo barbarians with no humanity.
Be grateful for Jiraiya-sama's integrity and kindness, you bastards!
Since there were enough medical personnel, Makoto did not plan to help. He rejoined his unit and, like the others, sat down to rest.
Their vanguard, formed from three small squads, had been the brightest presence in this battle—like a sharp blade cutting freely across the battlefield. Not only had they slain countless enemies, they had also rescued many comrades and had even nearly wiped out the Iwa demolition unit.
Even the demolition unit's commander—the Explosion Release Bloodline Limit expert of the Iwa, Gari—had been beheaded.
The death of this heavyweight figure directly caused the collapse of Iwagakure's momentum and, incidentally, dragged down the morale of the Kumo as well, becoming the turning point of this battle's victory.
Makoto's unit had suffered no deaths, but every one of them was dog-tired, and all of them had picked up plenty of cuts and bruises.
However, they were all minor injuries. Compared with the attentive looks and heated discussion from the surrounding Konoha comrades, those wounds were nothing but medals of honor—the small price of being a star unit.
At this moment, Hayate, Yūgao, and several other young chūnin all had flushed faces and high spirits, savoring the sense of achievement that came from being the center of attention among the frontline forces.
If the enemy were to make a sudden countercharge right now, they felt they could keep fighting for several more hours.
The three jōnin, on the other hand, looked calm. They were used to the brutality of the battlefield. Compared with honor, they were more grateful that they and their subordinates had once again survived.
For veterans, being alive mattered more than anything.
…
Ever since the battle erupted, Jiraiya had not only commanded the entire field—he had also been responsible for dealing with the elite unit on the Kumo's side. The burden was heavy.
But this big shot's strength was formidable, and he handled it with ease.
"You've all worked hard!" At this time, he walked over and praised everyone. Then he patted Makoto on the shoulder. "Makoto, you're even more outstanding than Minato said. You deserve the title of Konoha hero."
"Jiraiya-sama, you flatter me. It's what I should do. Protecting Konoha comrades has always been the driving force and goal of my training."
"Hahaha, that's some fine Will of Fire, kid. No wonder even my sensei can't stop praising it—truly another perfect junior."
Perfect? Are you putting me on the same level as your own disciple?
Sorry, Jiraiya. In terms of handsomeness, I really am not inferior to Minato, but in terms of sheer sunshine, Konoha's little sun leaves me three streets behind.
At most three streets. No more than that.
Suddenly, before Makoto could continue showing off his humble image, everyone on the battlefield felt their hearts grow heavy.
It was stifling—stifling for no reason at all, and yet they could not say why.
Makoto and Jiraiya, along with some shinobi with especially keen senses, all looked in the direction Iwagakure had retreated, as if something terrifying were descending there.
Jiraiya asked, "Makoto, can you sense what's going on over there?"
"It's too far, Jiraiya-sama. I can't sense the details. But I can vaguely feel an extremely powerful chakra—violent and scorching, not something a human should be able to possess."
"Those damn Iwa bastards actually brought a jinchūriki onto the battlefield. What a pain."
Makoto asked, feigning confusion, "Jinchūriki? Jiraiya-sama, what is that?"
"Mm, you'll find out about that in the future." Jiraiya did not explain in detail.
Makoto guessed that, judging from the chakra reaction, it was likely the Four-Tails jinchūriki, Rōshi, who had arrived—although the other party was indeed outside his sensory range.
But the amount of Tailed Beast chakra was immense. Once it erupted at full power, it was like a massive source of radiation; anyone with even a bit of sensory ability could feel it.
It was like how people cannot see the sun on a cloudy day, yet sunlight still pierces through the clouds and shines on everyone.
Jiraiya's sensory ability was not particularly outstanding, yet he sensed it as well. He wondered why the other side had not launched an attack on Konoha and was instead just staying there without moving.
Could there still be Kumo forces over there?
Suddenly, Makoto reported, "Jiraiya-sama, a powerful aggregate of chakra is rapidly approaching our position."
Jiraiya seemed to realize something. His expression changed drastically as he roared out an order, "Everyone, take the wounded and leave immediately! Do not retreat to the rear—withdraw to both sides!"
The Konoha shinobi all sensed that something was wrong. They quickly hoisted the wounded onto their backs and, following the instructions, sprinted madly to the left and right.
It was the correct decision. No one knew where that dangerous thing would land. Retreating backward would be gambling on whether your life was tough enough.
If your luck was bad, the surprise would come knocking at your door—and you would take a Tailed Beast Ball head-on with your face.
It was like how you could never outrun a train chasing you from behind, but you could jump aside to either side.
As for the comrades' or enemies' corpses that had yet to be gathered, there was no time to worry about that now.
In the distant sky, a black dot rapidly approached like a cannon shell, flying at extreme speed.
At the same time, rumbling sounds came from that direction, as if a massive figure were charging this way.
After issuing the order, Jiraiya himself rushed toward the source of the thunderous noise. He could not allow a Tailed Beast to charge into the battlefield—ordinary Konoha shinobi would have no way to deal with it. It had to be stopped.
Makoto glanced at the black dot growing larger in his vision, then looked at the speed at which Higashino Jirō and the others were moving.
This was a race where speed was traded for survival. But who knew how large the explosion radius of a Tailed Beast Ball was? He had no experience at all. Such intelligence was top secret among the villages; it would not be recorded in the Konoha library's materials.
Then the best method was to prevent it from landing in the first place.
Makoto instantly entered Sage Mode and shot into the sky like a missile. At this moment, he did not bother with any elegant movement techniques—he flew as fast as he possibly could.
Midair, Makoto looked at the enormous Tailed Beast Ball flying toward him and swiftly reversed direction, maintaining the same speed as it.
After sensing the degree of chaos within the Yin–Yang chakra inside the Tailed Beast Ball, Makoto extended both hands and unleashed a massive surge of chakra, casting a gigantic "Wind King's Barrier" to envelop the Tailed Beast Ball within it.
According to the information he knew, the chakra inside this thing would not explode unless it reached the brink of losing control.
The most stable Tailed Beast Ball—belonging to the Ten-Tails—had endured more than a dozen consecutive bombardments from the Eight-Tails Gyūki's own Tailed Beast Balls during flight without the slightest issue.
Of course, this was still extremely dangerous, because the Four-Tails' Tailed Beast Ball was nowhere near as stable as the Ten-Tails'.
But below were his father, his sensei, and his friends. He did not want to gamble on whether they could run far enough before the explosion to escape the danger.
Once the Tailed Beast Ball was wrapped inside the "Wind King's Barrier," Makoto felt an overwhelming forward force—far beyond what he could resist. Fortunately, he did not need to withstand it head-on.
Using Wind-nature chakra with all his strength, he pushed from the side, driving himself and the Tailed Beast Ball together and gradually altering its flight trajectory bit by bit.
In midair, the enormous black Tailed Beast Ball, encased in the white, semi-transparent "Wind King's Barrier," traced out a massive arc—like a racing car executing a drift through a corner—its direction redirected toward the northeast.
That was the direction in which the remnants of the Kumo shinobi had fled.
As if anyone did not know how to divert disaster onto others.
Sorry about this, brothers of the Cloud—please trouble yourselves to taste the saltiness of this ball on Konoha's behalf.
When he sensed that the chakra balance inside the Tailed Beast Ball was spiraling out of control, Makoto swiftly withdrew the "Wind King's Barrier," halted his forward momentum, and watched as the Tailed Beast Ball charged toward a different target.
As they ran, the Konoha shinobi kept glancing back to observe the Tailed Beast Ball's landing point, but they soon realized that the source of danger had already been pushed away.
Standing on the ground, Jirō clenched his fists, yet felt powerless inside. At a critical moment like this, as a father, he had to rely on his own son to risk his life to save them.
Hayate and Yūgao stared blankly at Makoto's figure in the sky, their hearts tight with worry.
Kumomi patted Jirō on the shoulder. "Trust Makoto. Your son has already surpassed the understanding of us ordinary shinobi. You need to learn to accept that."
Boom!
First, a dazzling light momentarily eclipsed the already setting sun. Then, from the distance, came an earth-shattering explosion.
Finally, a massive storm spread outward in all directions.
No one knew exactly where it had detonated—or whether the Kumo shinobi had gotten a taste of that ball.
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