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Qianyu, locked in combat with Kakuzu and Kisame Hoshigaki, hurled himself backward, putting distance between them.
His Kenbunshoku Haki was active, predicting their every move before they made it. Kakuzu and Kisame were twin turrets of chakra, one lethal jutsu after another blasting toward him. And Qianyu? He was already moving—dodging, weaving, counter-casting—the moment their hands began to seal.
The look in their eyes had shifted from focus to something closer to disbelief.
"Even the Sharingan's insight isn't this insane," Kisame rasped, his voice tight. "Can it see the damn future now? Know what we're gonna throw at him?"
Qianyu, having just slipped between two more streams of destruction, shot them a dismissive glance.
This version of Kisame, propped up only by Samehada, was barely elite Jonin level. Not a real threat. Kakuzu was slightly more interesting. Slightly. It was strange. Enemies he'd once thought would be troublesome now felt… manageable. Even without knowing their weaknesses—which he did—taking them down felt like a foregone conclusion.
His gaze cut through the night, toward the distant, hulking silhouette of the Nine-Tails plodding toward Konoha.
The seal. He'd felt the transcription seal in Miyuki Uzumaki's left eye trigger. The moment it did, his Haki had swept over her location. No trace of the Nine-Tails' chakra remained within her.
So, either the fox had broken its word, or… it hadn't been fast enough to help. He bet on the latter. For all their bluster and hostility, the tailed beasts were oddly obedient to the Sage of Six Paths. With the fate of the Child of Prophecy on the line? Even the Nine-Tails, for all its hatred of its jinchūriki, wouldn't dare renege.
"Hah." Qianyu exhaled, a sharp, decisive sound. "Guess I'll have to go carve a piece off it myself."
His left hand flashed through a single seal. "Shadow Clone Technique!"
A puff of smoke, and an identical Qianyu stood beside him. Without a word, his true body turned, facing the distant beast.
"Lightning Release Chakra Mode!"
Boom!
Thunderous power erupted from him. Jagged arcs of lightning coiled around his form, so dense and violent they cracked the earth beneath his feet. He crouched, muscles coiling—and the lightning intensified, climbing to a deafening, crackling crescendo.
Across the clearing, Kakuzu and Kisame froze.
A chill shot up Kisame's spine, turning his blood to ice. Goosebumps rose all over his body. His hands trembled, the first true tremor of fear he'd ever known. This… this pressure…
Kakuzu had seen more. He'd lived longer. He'd once tried to assassinate Hashirama Senju himself. He knew what true, overwhelming power felt like—the kind that pinned you to the dirt before you could even look up. He'd survived only because the First Hokage hadn't been trying.
This pressure radiating from Qianyu… for a terrifying second, it felt stronger. A trick of the memory, he knew. A phantom of his own fear. Qianyu wasn't on that level. But the fact that the comparison even flickered in his mind was terrifying enough. This man… was brushing against the threshold of what they called legends.
Qianyu's hand settled on the hilt of his ninjato at his waist. The world seemed to hold its breath.
"Thunder Breathing – First Form: Thunderclap and Flash – God Speed."
To Kakuzu and Kisame, he didn't move. He vanished. One moment he was there, a storm of lightning contained in human form. The next, only a searing afterimage of a lightning bolt streaking across the landscape remained. The ground where he'd stood split open with a terrible groan, a trench carved by sheer speed alone.
Obito Uchiha, following the Nine-Tails toward Konoha, stopped dead. He whirled, his single eye snapping skyward.
A bolt of lightning was descending. Straight toward him. But the sky was clear, stars glittering coldly. No clouds. No storm. This wasn't natural.
His three-tomoe Sharingan spun, but the streak of light was just a blur. Panic spiked. He forced his Mangekyō Sharingan awake. The world sharpened, slowed—just enough to catch a glimpse.
A human shape. Not a jutsu. A taijutsu technique pushed to its absolute limit. "Qianyu!"
His pupil contracted. In the time it took his Mangekyō to activate, Qianyu had closed half the distance.
As he shot past the towering form of the Nine-Tails, Qianyu drew his blade. A single, horizontal draw-cut.
A crescent of lightning flashed in the dark.
On the Nine-Tails' broad back, a titanic, horizontal gash ripped open. Not blood, but a torrent of viscous, crimson chakra—the fox's very essence—gushed into the air like a geyser.
Still in the air, Qianyu sheathed his blade. In the same fluid motion, he unrolled a blank scroll, bit his thumb, and painted the sealing formula across it with his blood. "Evil Sealing Method!"
As he formed the final hand seal, the bloody incantations lifted from the parchment. They snaked through the air, coiling around the gushing stream of tailed beast chakra, binding it.
His feet touched the ground. Qianyu slammed his palm onto the scroll. "SEAL!"
The bound chakra was violently sucked into the parchment. He snapped the scroll shut and tucked it away, his movements economical, final.
Then, he turned his head. His eyes found Obito, standing frozen not far away.
Obito was rigid, every muscle taut. Was this it? Was Qianyu breaking their deal?
Qianyu offered him a faint, almost lazy smile. "Relax. We have a deal. You do your thing." He patted his pouch. "I do mine."
Obito's voice was strained. "Kakuzu and Kisame… you didn't…"
Qianyu jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "You deaf? The party's still going."
And with that, he vanished.
In the distance, the distinct crump of an explosion, followed by the sizzle of lightning, echoed through the night.
Obito stared, the sound driving a spike of cold realization into his gut. That fight… was still raging. Against a shadow clone.
Just a shadow clone was holding off both of them?
How strong is he?
His own boast, about holding off Qianyu and Minato alone, now tasted like ash in his mouth. Foolish. Reckless. If Zetsu hadn't suggested this cooperation… the entire plan would have crumbled. Even with the Nine-Tails loose, it would have failed.
The fox hadn't even reacted to that attack.
Obito let out a long, shaky breath he didn't know he'd been holding. A wave of dizzying relief washed over him. Too close. He'd almost ruined everything with his own arrogance. From now on… more caution. Far more.
On the Nine-Tails' back, the massive wound had already sealed. It was a creature of pure chakra, after all; it couldn't be truly injured. But the area where the cut had been now looked… thinner. Paler. A chunk of its substance was simply gone, locked away in a scroll.
Obito squared his shoulders, pushing the dread and awe down. He had a role to play. "Move," he commanded the beast, his voice regaining its forced steadiness. The Nine-Tails, now slightly diminished, resumed its lumbering march toward the sleeping village.
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