During their last clash, both Hanzo of the Salamander and the salamander itself had already learned how nasty the Flying Thunder God was.
After the border base was destroyed, the salamander's attention wasn't on its contractor at all—it was fixed on the boy who, months ago, had torn off its tail and nearly killed it.
It opened its massive jaws again and sucked in torrents of water. This time, instead of spitting it out as a water pillar, it charged.
The moment it saw Gojō Yoru vanish in a flash, it snapped its head toward Orochimaru's direction and blasted out a colossal stream of water again.
Orochimaru glanced over—he didn't use Water Release to speed-evade. Instead, he began forming the seals for Water Dragon Bullet.
"ROOOAAAR—!"
Yoru and Jiraiya appeared beside him—
—and a deafening roar shook the water prison.
A gigantic water dragon swallowed all three of them and burst out of the prison, twisting its body to dodge the equally massive water column that shot after it.
Unfortunately, the dragon's size and speed were nothing compared to the salamander's water cannon. It was hit and detonated in short order.
But before it was struck, Yoru and the others had already slipped free and landed in the rain-lashed forest.
CRASHHH—
With the base destroyed and the three of them out of the water prison, Hanzo stopped maintaining the prison's shape.
Thousands upon thousands of tons of water exploded outward like an ocean surge, roaring and spreading in every direction. The wave rose higher than the forest's trees, swallowing huge swaths of woodland.
Everyone—Yoru's trio and the Rain shinobi who'd rushed to the forest perimeter to support Hanzo or intercept enemy reinforcements—were all engulfed.
And that was it.
No one here was weak. Either their chakra control was excellent, or they had Water Release. Using the submerged forest and controlling nearby currents, they easily bled off the wave's force so they wouldn't be slammed into trees.
Once the surge dissipated, the steel-sheet downpour swallowed the forest again.
A white, hazy world—long-range vision stripped away.
The endless roar of rain meant all anyone could really hear was the rain itself.
Yoru's trio and Hanzo didn't hide in the rainforest. Instead, each stood atop a treetop, using sensing techniques to lock onto the others' positions.
If you don't move, I don't move—the standoff held.
Until—
BOOM!
A sudden explosion shattered the tense calm.
A huge beast—like a fish leaping from water—lunged up with jaws wide enough to swallow a whole tree, trying to take Orochimaru and the trunk beneath his feet in a single bite.
Orochimaru had already anticipated it. The instant the tree shuddered, he detonated the chakra he'd been storing, launching himself into the air as a blur. With one-handed seals, he formed a wind blade and slashed at the salamander.
Months ago, that level of Wind Release would've been laughable—one tail-swipe and the beast would smash through it and keep coming.
But now, the salamander had lost its strongest weapon.
The blade still might not pierce its defense, but it would hurt.
So the salamander burst into white smoke and returned to the summoning realm.
Orochimaru kept forming seals midair. Before he even landed on another treetop, he exhaled a blast of air toward Hanzo's position.
"Wind Release: Pressure Damage!"
The airflow expanded into a high-density, compressed vortex storm—like indestructible blades. It instantly severed trees, tore open the rain curtain, kicked up dust, and howled toward Hanzo.
Wind was fast.
Hanzo was faster.
He flickered across treetops like he was teleporting, escaping the vortex's kill zone in the blink of an eye.
Shhk—
When Hanzo reappeared on another tree, a curved black shape suddenly surfaced through the rain in front of him.
A chakra blade wrapped in crackling black arcs.
Hanzo raised his chain-linked sickle and met the "black blade."
In the next instant, the sickle didn't even get a crack—
—it was cleanly severed.
Hanzo didn't look shocked. If anything, his lips lifted slightly.
But Yoru—who'd been creeping in under rain cover—had his pupils tighten. He instantly flashed away.
BOOM—!
The moment he disappeared, a massive explosion detonated.
It was the familiar self-destruction of a shadow clone.
"…That's just dirty."
Perched on a branch marked with his Flying Thunder God formula, Yoru couldn't help muttering.
Up to now, he had been the one dirtying others—Hanzo included. Months ago he'd successfully "gotten" the salamander, even nearly wiping out the pair.
But now Hanzo was clearly playing against him.
He wasn't even fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with the salamander. He was also countering Yoru's chakra-hiding trick—refusing to expose his true body, using clones as bait instead.
And clones were hard to tell apart. Even Yoru couldn't always confirm which one was real.
Worse, sensing was still one of Yoru's weak points.
If he had a Mind's Eye of the Kagura–level sensor ability, Hanzo's clone-body positions would be obvious. But he didn't.
He could sense Hanzo's chakra… he just couldn't tell if it was the real Hanzo or a clone.
If it was a clone, that meant the real Hanzo had already used some stealth extension and was hidden somewhere.
Either way, Yoru couldn't ignore the "Hanzo" in front of him.
Even a clone's assassination techniques could still kill.
After just one exchange, Yoru realized how annoying Hanzo really was.
Pulling off the same kind of ambush he'd used before? Probably impossible now.
Still, Yoru didn't give up right away. He planned to test a few more times—if it didn't work, he'd withdraw.
He didn't know that an invisible "eye" was watching him from afar.
What, exactly, is that chakra nature inside that kid? Black Lightning? Or is he fusing some bloodline trait?
Time–space chakra naturally carried a higher-dimensional "screen" effect. In the entire shinobi world, the number of beings intelligent enough to detect it could probably be counted on one hand.
Even Uzumaki Mito, an ultra–Kage-class monster with Mind's Eye of the Kagura, could only barely perceive that Yoru's body contained an unusual energy—something with a special nature like a bloodline trait. She couldn't tell what it actually was.
Only Katsuyu—showing up once—had immediately noticed the time–space chakra, and even seemed to understand what kind of "miracle" it represented.
Her sensing exceeded everyone of this era by a wide margin.
Yoru didn't know Mito had noticed anything. All he knew was that Katsuyu could see his time–space chakra, and he assumed it was tied to sage-level perception—making him wary of the three great sage lands.
But he didn't know there was another being who could see the black chakra inside him:
Black Zetsu.
With his high-level perception, Black Zetsu could see two chakra systems inside Yoru—one normal, one black.
Unlike Katsuyu, who dealt with nature and the fabric of the world, Black Zetsu's reaction matched Mito's: he couldn't identify what that black chakra was.
Seeing Yoru and his weapon wrapped in black arcs, he assumed it was something like the Third Raikage's "Black Lightning," or that Yoru was mid-process of fusing a bloodline.
He never even considered "time–space chakra."
As Kaguya's child, Black Zetsu knew exactly how terrifying time–space attributes were. Most time–space bloodline techniques were fixed "moves," narrow in use.
Time–space chakra itself? That shouldn't exist.
Even the fact that Flying Thunder God consumed time–space chakra didn't raise alarms—he assumed both types of chakra could fuel the technique. After all, chakra was just internal energy… how would it separate cleanly?
Neither Yoru and the three Sannin, nor Hanzo, nor the Rain forces observing from a distance noticed Black Zetsu at all.
BOOM BOOM BOOM—
Using a clone as bait had successfully forced Yoru to reveal himself.
Even though the self-detonation didn't hurt Yoru, the clone's feedback gave Hanzo fresh intel:
Yoru had mastered "Black Lightning," and could coat a chakra blade in it, turning it truly black and monstrously sharp.
His Shunshin had also integrated that black lightning nature—equally terrifying.
Combined with chakra concealment, he was even more dangerous in the rain than he'd been months ago.
Hanzo began considering withdrawal. His real objective was the border base.
But this weather was a gift. Leaving now felt like wasting heaven's favor.
So, unable to find a clean way to kill Yoru, Hanzo shifted his focus to Orochimaru and Jiraiya.
Kunai with explosive tags on their tails shot through the rain's cover toward Orochimaru's position while he was actively sensing.
The brief spike of chakra jolted Orochimaru into a Shunshin dodge.
A chain of blasts went off—missing him.
But the flames from those explosions didn't die in the rain. They fused into a massive fire dragon that roared toward him.
Using Shadow Snake Hands to catch and spin off a branch, Orochimaru countered by forming a huge earth dragon that surged skyward.
Shhk—
Right as the two elemental dragons collided, a cold flash slashed in from behind.
A chain-linked sickle—one stroke—took off "Orochimaru's" head.
No blood.
Head and body became mud.
Earth Replacement.
Orochimaru had already slipped underground via Earth Replacement and Earth Body Flicker. The moment he reacquired Hanzo's chakra signature, it vanished.
From the outside, Hanzo had turned into a puddle of water.
In a downpour, Hanzo's Water Shunshin let him instantly relocate absurd distances.
Only a few people could compete with his movement: Yoru, Sakumo Hatake, the Third Raikage.
And beyond being a Water Release master, Hanzo was also a Fire Release master.
Even in heavy rain, he could shape explosive-tag fire into a fire dragon.
A four-man game of hide-and-seek unfolded in the rainforest.
Knowing Yoru could burrow and erase his chakra, Hanzo never set foot on the ground, never lingered on a single tree, and never tried to assassinate Orochimaru or Jiraiya up close.
Every time: clone as bait. If it didn't draw Yoru out, he attacked the other two.
Water Release or Fire Release—always leaving openings on purpose, daring Yoru to try the kill.
After several rounds, Hanzo found another "weak spot" in Yoru: his sensing didn't match his ridiculous speed.
At twelve, Yoru's Shunshin was already top-tier: silent-step extensions, chakra concealment, black-lightning stimulation—he even outpaced Hanzo in this weather.
But his sensing was only average.
Hanzo still couldn't find a way to kill him—especially with Flying Thunder God.
But now he knew how to keep him on a leash.
"Orochimaru-sensei… let's go. Don't fight him anymore."
After another explosive-tag exchange that destroyed Orochimaru's special mask, Orochimaru finally decided to pull out, speaking to the Yoru who'd flashed in to cover him.
"Yeah."
Yoru nodded. He'd just been taught a lesson by an even bigger schemer.
He could already tell: killing Hanzo the way he'd nearly done before wasn't happening again.
They withdrew by teleport.
Hanzo didn't chase.
Rainy forest was where he and Yoru thrived, but it was where Orochimaru and Jiraiya suffered.
If Orochimaru and Jiraiya weren't creating openings, they wouldn't have stayed at all.
Once they reached dry forest, it flipped—Orochimaru and Jiraiya would gain the advantage, and staying engaged would only increase the odds that Yoru found a real assassination window.
That "instant kill" method Yoru used on the fifty-five Sand shinobi—whether it was Flying Thunder God Slash or something else—was the reason Hanzo still refused to send his real body into melee.
The objective was complete. Hanzo pulled back with his Rain forces into the Land of Rain.
He didn't yet understand that destroying the enemy's border base wasn't just "making an opening"—it was also removing a seal.
Back in the Hidden Rain, Hanzo began assembling forces and drafting a full invasion plan for the Land of Fire.
And then—before he could even finish planning—the endless downpour began to weaken.
The terrifying scene that followed unfolded along the Rain–Fire border:
Figures in vests and armor blurred out of the forest in waves, crossing the barren rocklands and pouring into Rain Country's mountain terrain.
Recon squads reported it immediately.
Hanzo felt a flicker of bad intuition.
But standing at the top of the world, he didn't take it seriously at first. If Konoha shinobi came into Rain's home field, that sounded like good news—his Shunshin would make sure they never got back to the forest.
Once mass warfare started, even with masks and goggles, they couldn't withstand repeated poison clouds. Without antidotes, even a trace would kill.
And supplying themselves deep in Rain's rocklands would be hell.
Advantage is mine.
So Hanzo prepared to commit to total war.
And then—
He froze.
Konoha didn't establish a camp at all.
They split into countless four-man teams, scattered across the eastern reaches of Rain Country, pushing toward the Hidden Rain itself.
Wherever they went, any Rain recon unit that got spotted was hunted down.
If the rain thickened again, Konoha squads withdrew instantly.
If they lacked supplies, they either returned to the forest to link with Konoha support corps, hunted, or raided towns and villages they encountered.
Even in wartime, many civilians still stayed put—thinking the war wouldn't reach them.
If they were lucky, they'd lose food and money.
If they weren't… families vanished.
Nagato's parents were the textbook example.
Hanzo quickly felt the difference between small villages and great ones.
Even weakened, even only one of Konoha's lines, their forces still outnumbered Rain's by several times.
When they scattered and advanced, Rain simply couldn't block everything.
When Rain tried concentrating forces, Konoha units vanished.
Chasing risked ambushes and traps.
The intruders were too few for Hanzo to personally crush—if he left, Konoha might breach the Hidden Rain's walls.
Though Hanzo soon realized the best counter was striking during heavy rain and rain-nights, Konoha's squads were slippery—retreating to forest, hiding to lay traps, or rotating their three sensory clans. Once any enemy movement was detected, they withdrew immediately, turning it into hide-and-seek across Rain's rocklands.
Rain squads didn't dare to pursue far either. They waited for "safe" kills—and often got none.
Rain's one real advantage now was logistics.
Unlike the probing phase, Rain could resupply locally.
But supplies are finite. If production couldn't keep up with consumption, they would run dry.
In wartime, trade caravans wouldn't come.
Once Rain faced shortages, they'd have to buy supplies elsewhere—maybe even outside the country.
But as the enemy of three great nations, buying abroad would mean relying on small countries, which only made resupply harder.
When those areas also got stripped or couldn't provide, Rain would be beaten—not by a single battle, but by starvation.
And that was exactly Konoha's plan: a consumption war until Rain couldn't continue.
A long war, with countless deaths.
Hanzo tried breaking the stalemate—burrowing assaults with the salamander, reverse-summoning drops.
Sometimes he wiped a squad or two. Usually he only got one or two.
Because Konoha now had antidotes: when Hanzo appeared, they scattered. Poison clouds couldn't wipe them out.
No matter how fast he was, he couldn't kill everyone who fled in different directions.
And every time Hanzo moved, Hyūga watchers saw him from kilometers away, or Inuzuka dogs and Aburame insects caught his trace. Then Yoru's trio—or other elite Konoha forces—would converge and slaughter isolated Rain teams elsewhere.
After the border base fell to reverse summoning, Konoha didn't allow any repeat opportunities. Rain could only reverse-summon the salamander from far away, and that never escaped Hyūga eyes.
The moment the salamander appeared, squads scattered again.
This cycle went on for a year.
Konoha 36, August 15.
Almost without noticing, Yoru was twelve. His birthday was only days away.
Across three fronts, the fiercest fighting was unquestionably the Rain line.
The White Fang line and the "Danzo line" were mostly defensive.
Attacking Wind or Earth would mean crossing Rain first, then breaking enemy border bases and military bases—too costly.
The Rain line, however, had lost its base. If Rain forces invaded Fire territory, it would be catastrophic, forcing defense into offense.
And it was only because Rain's manpower was limited that Konoha could sustain a year of this.
Even so, they still couldn't break the "demigod."
With Hanzo guarding and leading them, the Hidden Rain became a fortified Sand Village—despite weaker sensing nets than Konoha, they held for a full year without collapsing. Many times they even forced Konoha units to retreat in ugly fashion.
At night and in heavy rain, it flipped entirely.
Against Rain assassins with home-field advantage, Konoha squads could only run—never clustering, terrified of drawing Hanzo.
After a year of war, Yoru's changes were dramatic.
Height: he'd reached 1.75 meters—almost Orochimaru's height.
Presence: with command authority and repeated battlefield leadership, his gaze and aura became sharp, intimidating—he now looked every inch a fully fledged, all-around jōnin.
Reputation: two headline-making feats and his rapid promotion record were already legendary. A year of command and repeated clashes with the "demigod" earned him recognition from both allies and enemies.
Even at only twelve, Gojō Yoru was now a universally acknowledged big name—an official Konoha jōnin in every shinobi handbook.
"Black Flash."
"The fastest in the shinobi world."
A target that any lone operative could abandon their mission to flee—without punishment—if they ran into him.
~~~
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