Just as Mamoru's momentum died and he began to fall, the trap sprang anew. The dragon he had dodged suddenly reared its head, its vast body rising.
For the first time, genuine surprise flickered in Mamoru's eyes—he had underestimated this foe.
Without the Six Eyes to rely on, such relentless, artful combinations would drain his Chakra and stamina long before he could close in for hand-to-hand combat.
Facing the savage head lunging up at him, he showed no alarm. Instead, he snapped both hands together overhead with a sharp clap. In the next instant, he vanished.
Inside the pavilion, Tosuke had no time to savor victory. A blur, and Mamoru stood beneath the outer eaves. His pupils shrank to pinpricks, horror flooding his face as he reflexively leapt back, hands racing through seals again.
The last water clone guarding the entrance threw itself in front of its creator without hesitation, eyes set in grim resolve.
Mamoru's fist was already driving for the clone's face. The clone twisted aside, its Kunai striking like a viper for Mamoru's ribs. Mamoru made no effort to dodge, he simply reached out with his left hand, fingers splayed, and grabbed the blade.
Steel met palm without a sound, the Kunai could not pierce his skin.
The clone froze for a heartbeat, stunned by the impossible sight.
That instant of stillness settled the fight.
Mamoru's right fist, ripping the air, slammed upward beneath the clone's jaw.
"Ugh!"
A short cry burst from the clone as it lifted off its feet, disbelief written across its face. Mamoru pressed the advantage, stepping in.
Splash!
A side-kick scythed through the clone's waist.
The clone burst apart, dissolving into a sheet of clear water that drenched the tatami.
The instant he regained balance, Mamoru surged forward again.
Boom!
The mat beneath his feet erupted in a ring of force, his form a blur that tore the air as he shot straight for Tosuke.
Terror seized Tosuke as Mamoru's image swelled like a teleporting specter, death's shadow falling across his heart.
Driven by instinct and years of battle, he finished the final seal, hands locking at his chest.
Earth Release: Hardening Technique!
In a flash his exposed skin, face included, took on the gray luster of granite, turning him to living stone.
Crack!
The instant the stone skin set, Mamoru's fist smashed dead center into Tosuke's chest. The impact rang out like a maul striking rock.
Crunch…
The faint sound of bone breaking was lost beneath the thunder.
The hardened Jonin was hurled backward, shattered rails exploding into splinters. He tumbled across the pond, then crashed into the stone wall at the compound's edge, leaving a web of cracks before he finally stopped.
Mamoru lowered his fist, frowning as he inspected the knuckles now throbbing with pain—the blow had fractured them.
Crash!
With its master unconscious, the water dragon dissolved, a deluge that battered the pavilion roof and sent spray dancing across the pond.
Through the curtain of falling water, Tosuke dragged himself from the ruined wall. Clutching his chest, he wheezed, filthy water and dust streaking his face.
Thanks to the Hardening Technique's defense, he showed no grave wound, only ragged breath and a few cuts to show for the pounding he had taken.
"Hahahahaha… that was close. Another second and I'd have been dead."
The rough laughter cracked through the night, wild with the joy of survival and unabashed triumph.
Tosuke wiped a smear of dark-red blood from the corner of his lips while his other hand pressed against his aching chest, knuckles trembling.
Only by forcibly hardening his body to several times the toughness of rock had he withstood that punch from the boy. Even so, the aftershock had churned his insides, every breath carried the iron tang of blood.
Standing in the lakeside pavilion, Mamoru frowned, annoyed. "I should've used the subtle force of Gentle Fist."
Regret was useless now. He raised his left hand and laid it gently over his injured right. As a soft green glow appeared, Mystical Palm Technique's healing power drifted like mist, wrapping his damaged bones and sinews in a faint tingle.
"You—you're actually a medical ninja!?" Tosuke's pupils shrank as he pointed at Mamoru treating himself in the pavilion, his voice quivering and the muscles of his face twitching.
"Problem?" Mamoru glanced up, a disdainful curve on his lips. "Didn't anyone tell you medical ninja are ridiculously strong?"
He withdrew his left hand, flexed his right palm open and shut several times, then nodded. Pain lingered, but the joint moved freely.
Tosuke swallowed his shock and growled through clenched teeth, "Kid, what's your name?"
"Ma… I'm Satoru," Mamoru replied 'honestly', a sly flicker in his eyes.
"Satoru… never heard of you." Tosuke shook his head, walking toward the pond, genuine regret showing on his rugged face. "Satoru, you might surpass the Sannin of Konoha one day. What a waste…"
"Of course I'm the strongest." Mamoru smirked. "What do you mean, 'waste'?"
Tosuke gave no answer. Instead, he stood at the pond's edge and flashed a vicious grin. He leapt onto the water, hands flashing through seals, and slipped beneath the surface like a fish, leaving only widening ripples.
Almost at once, Mamoru sensed the Chakra around him spike. He jerked his gaze upward and saw that every beam and rafter of the pavilion was plastered with explosive tags, silent invitations to death fluttering in the breeze.
Was the man planning to blow the whole estate sky-high?
Blinding white light flared from the tags.
"Crap!"
Mamoru's shout was swallowed by deafening detonations.
Boom... Boom...
The pavilion vanished in a bloom of orange fire. Everything nearby twisted in the heat, reduced to scorched earth.
The blast tore outward, uprooting plants and hurling roof-tiles like hail.
The row of tatami rooms facing the pond collapsed and the surrounding walls crumbled as though crushed by a giant's hand.
Around 2 a.m. the rolling roar shattered the quiet of Nagakawa City. Bewildered residents fled in disarray, gathering half-dressed on street corners, searching for the source of the terror.
The city boiled—angry curses, terrified screams, children's wails, dogs barking…
Feeling the violent tremor, Hinata, Shino and Komatsu burst from their rooms into the yard. Cold wind hit them, sharp with the stench of gunpowder.
Mamoru's Shadow Clone strolled along, yawning as if the uproar had nothing to do with him.
Explosions still thundered and blood-red flames danced against the sky, dyeing the night ominous.
Sparks drifted like fireflies.
Hinata shut her eyes tight, lashes trembling, hands clasped to her chest as she prayed, 'Mamoru-kun, Kurenai-sensei… please be safe.'
For an instant, Mamoru's confident smile flashed before her, and his reassuring "Don't worry" seemed to echo.
"Don't worry." The Shadow Clone said matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather.
Hinata turned and saw that the clone stood with hands in his pockets, perfectly relaxed.
If the clone still existed, the original must be fine, right?
Hiroki arrived with panicked servants, the hem of his kimono whipping in the wind.
He stopped short, voice urgent. "What happened?"
Komatsu opened his mouth but found no words, he could only stare at the rising smoke.
"Mamoru-kun and Kurenai-sensei are fighting." Hinata murmured.
"This little show will be over soon." The Shadow Clone added calmly.
"Just the two of them?" Hiroki glanced at the lazy clone, then at the flickering sky, thoughtful.
(End of Chapter)
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