As Hanzō the Salamander started entertaining the idea of withdrawing from the war, the mood on this front shifted noticeably.
By day, Konoha no longer dared to assault Amegakure, because Hanzō himself was stationed on the walls. With his shunshin speed, even if Konoha attacked from the opposite side of the village, he could still arrive in moments—or swap positions with a single Reverse Summoning.
At night, the recon teams, Anbu, and the Hyūga clan's Byakugan noticed something even stranger: Amegakure had stopped sending assassination squads after them.
Konoha's shinobi assumed it was because of Yoru's deterrence.
After all, in Konoha, aside from a handful of clans and individuals who weren't afraid of Rain's assassination squads, only Yoru—the Flying Thunder God user and an assassin second only to Hanzō—could hunt their assassin squads in return.
Ever since Yoru returned, almost every night a Rain-nin died by his hand; sometimes he'd wipe an entire assassination squad.
And the Rain-nin qualified to perform assassinations were almost always chūnin or special jōnin who excelled in a specific field. Training an assassin of that caliber required identifying candidates with assassination talent in the academy, then pouring years' worth of time and resources into them.
With Amegakure's limited manpower, even if they traded one Rain-nin for two Konoha shinobi, they could kill every Rain-nin they had and still fail to erase this front.
So Konoha believed Amegakure had been scared into backing off by Yoru.
That reaction gave both sides room to breathe.
"Just what is Hanzō doing now? Don't tell me he's actually scared of the kid?"
"Could be a stalling tactic—buying time for some other goal."
"So do we keep pushing?"
"No point bleeding for nothing. Let everyone rest. This is a good chance to fully resupply."
On a flat stretch of rocky terrain, several tents formed a crude command post. Jiraiya and Orochimaru were talking; Yoru was training in a separate tent—and he'd just made a major breakthrough.
The talent boost from his second evolution made Yoru fall in love with training all over again.
Back then, even when his eyes understood and his brain grasped the theory, his body simply couldn't execute it—the knowledge was too deep, and his natural limitations were too severe. Now, he was absorbing those "impossible" principles one by one.
With terrifying chakra control, a rock-solid foundation, and a vast store of ninjutsu theory, he'd even stepped onto the road of inventing techniques himself—and he was already seeing results.
And for the first time, he truly understood just how monstrous Senju Tobirama's talent had been.
He finally understood why Orochimaru, in the original timeline, became so obsessed with researching ninjutsu.
For the truly gifted, researching and creating techniques felt addictive.
Every time you fully unraveled a technique—every time a new one was born—you didn't just get stronger or add to your arsenal. Sometimes you discovered a whole new domain, and your understanding of chakra deepened.
For Yoru, it meant another step toward the origin of chakra itself.
"No wonder I could read it, and I could understand it, but my body wouldn't cooperate. This technique doesn't just demand insane reflexes—your sealing talent and chakra control have to be at the same level, too…"
Right now, Yoru was training Flying Thunder God.
When he first opened Tobirama's independent scroll, he'd practically learned it instantly—but the cost came from his space–time chakra.
Once that black space–time chakra ran dry, he couldn't use Flying Thunder God at all.
Because back then, even with the first evolution's boost, he still couldn't condense the Flying Thunder God formula using normal chakra.
And "geniuses" at that level were a dime a dozen in Konoha—let alone across the shinobi world.
Even Orochimaru, a once-in-a-decade prodigy, didn't have the aptitude to learn Flying Thunder God.
Now, after the second evolution pushed him from "genius" to "super-genius," Yoru challenged Flying Thunder God again.
Unlike last year—when he understood it but couldn't do it—this time, he finally felt why it was called a super S-rank technique.
S-rank techniques were "secret arts" that you might never learn, no matter how hard you tried.
But with the right specialty talent and enough time, you still had a real chance.
Super S-rank techniques were different. They picked their users.
It wasn't one requirement. It was multiple, and every single one had to be exceptional—rare even across decades.
Flying Thunder God was exactly that kind of technique.
In the past, Yoru hadn't understood why it demanded extreme neural reaction speed.
Only after returning to the battlefield—after carving through enemies—did he finally understand how Minato could solo dozens of Iwa-nin.
That kind of reaction speed was basically bullet time—spider-sense—an extremely diluted version of space–time talent.
Everyone else ran at 1× speed.
You were running at 2×, 3×.
No wonder Minato's movement was so fast, and his "reading" in combat so sharp.
The fact that Yoru had once beaten someone like that—before Minato fully grew—now seemed unbelievable.
Thankfully, Minato hadn't matured yet back then. Otherwise, Yoru would've been the one getting beaten up.
Without top-tier neural reaction speed, you couldn't train Flying Thunder God—just like you couldn't use Heavenly Transfer Technique (long-range teleportation) without the physical durability to survive it.
If Yoru didn't have space–time chakra, and he teleported in using Flying Thunder God, his body would stiffen in place—he couldn't chain smoothly into follow-ups.
Using it that way on an enemy would just be suicide.
On top of reaction speed, you needed matching chakra control and sealing aptitude.
When chakra control reached a level no ordinary person could touch, and you combined it with sealing theory and reaction speed, you could "grab" a thread of invisible space–time force with ordinary chakra—like making a storage scroll—and condense it into a permanent mark:
the Flying Thunder God formula.
Yoru had understood the theory before, but his body had refused because he failed all three requirements.
He wasn't alone—Hiruzen, Orochimaru, and countless other ninjutsu geniuses were in the same boat.
But now—
Yoru examined the Flying Thunder God kunai in his hand, a smile curling at his lips.
On its handle was a new emblem:
not the tomato with the character 夜 ("Night") in the center, but a serpent biting its own tail, forming an infinity symbol.
Since completing his second evolution, aside from training Lightning Release and developing new techniques, Yoru had poured every spare moment into Flying Thunder God.
A month of work. Countless attempts. Marks that formed—only to dissolve like ink again and again. A cycle of hope and disappointment—
And at last, he'd fully mastered Flying Thunder God.
From this moment on, his level of "annoying to deal with" would climb again.
He no longer needed to burn space–time chakra to use Flying Thunder God.
His stamina skyrocketed—and he could reserve space–time chakra for other uses.
Before, every teleport cost him space–time chakra, so he couldn't justify using Flying Thunder God freely in battle. He'd dodge only when absolutely necessary.
Even when using an ultimate like "Purple," he had to ration output and always keep enough in reserve for one or two emergency teleports.
Now?
All those constraints were gone.
It was only his second evolution, and the boost was already this massive. Yoru found himself even more excited for the third evolution, six years from now.
"Yoru-sama. Orochimaru-sama and Jiraiya-sama want you over here."
A voice came from outside the tent.
"Got it."
Yoru put the kunai away and stepped out.
He found the command team packing up as if preparing to withdraw, while Orochimaru and Jiraiya wore grim expressions.
Yoru walked over. "Orochimaru-sensei. Jiraiya-senpai."
His form of address had subtly changed.
Not because Yoru was getting arrogant—Jiraiya had insisted.
A year of commanding operations and the terrifying dominance he'd shown since his return had made Yoru a recognized elite jōnin, one of Konoha's ace assets.
From here on, he didn't just have the right to attend jōnin councils—his seat would be near the front.
At that rank, aside from the Hokage, the elders, and his own teacher, no one could comfortably accept being called "sir" by him—not Jiraiya, not Tsunade, not Hatake Sakumo, not Katō Dan, not even most clan heads.
Yoru had become one of Konoha's top-tier inner-circle figures.
That was the one "benefit" of war.
War killed people—lots of them. Even Kage could die if they walked into a trap without intelligence or faced something beyond their limits.
In these two years, countless chūnin and jōnin had died.
Their empty posts had to be filled.
In extraordinary times, extraordinary promotions were the only shortcut ordinary shinobi ever got.
Yoru was one of the beneficiaries.
If it weren't wartime, even with Flying Thunder God and absurd talent, even rising as fast as Kakashi, he'd still need five or six years to go from genin to jōnin.
To become a true ace, he'd have to build his name through missions—until both allies and enemies recognized his power.
In wartime, Yoru had gone from a genin who graduated early to a world-famous figure in under two years.
His strength had made people stop thinking about his age.
No one called him "a young prodigy" anymore.
They called him Black Flash and the Shinobi World's Fastest.
Orochimaru spoke first. "Yoru. Prepare for battle."
Yoru raised an eyebrow. "Hanzō is coming again?"
"Yes. Recon has confirmed his chakra—he's heading here," Orochimaru said, eyes narrowed with uncertainty. "But this time he isn't approaching via burrowing or Reverse Summoning. He's coming openly—just like last year."
Yoru caught the implication. "You think he's setting something up?"
"Can't rule it out," Orochimaru replied.
Jiraiya cut in, saying the one thing that would offend half the world. "Assassins don't suddenly act honorable. If he's being direct, he's up to something."
Yoru shot him a sideways look. "Jiraiya-senpai… if you're not handsome, that's fine. But you at least need a sweet mouth and some charm. With a mouth like that, no wonder Tsunade-sama never liked you."
Jiraiya froze as if struck by lightning—his whole body drained into monochrome.
Orochimaru didn't spare him. "Get ready. We'll see what he's planning."
The three checked their gear: gas masks, goggles, antitoxin doses.
Then Orochimaru had the command staff pull back while the three of them stayed behind to wait for Hanzō.
This wasn't new.
After a year of fighting, Hanzō and Yoru's side had thoroughly learned each other's habits.
Without Yoru, Orochimaru and Jiraiya would only play hide-and-seek with Hanzō—using anti-poison squads to pressure him off, forcing him to retreat.
But with Yoru present, they could actually engage.
The Hyūga's Byakugan would be watching constantly. Once they confirmed whether Hanzō was the real body and what he intended, the command team would decide the best response.
After so many clashes, Orochimaru and Jiraiya had almost come to expect Hanzō's arrival.
This was the moment Amegakure was weakest.
As one of the fastest shunshin users alive, Hanzō appeared quickly—standing atop a rock several meters high, arms folded, looking down at them.
Orochimaru and Jiraiya tensed; Orochimaru drew the Thunder God Sword Yoru had given him.
Hanzō didn't waste words.
"Come. Let's finish this—here and now, you brats."
Jiraiya blinked. "Hanzō—what do you mean, finish?"
"If you live… or if you manage to escape… you'll find out," Hanzō said, voice like ice.
The pride of the "Shinobi Demigod," and the need to keep other villages from looking down on him and the Land of Rain, meant he wouldn't "surrender" in a humiliating way.
Even if he withdrew, he wanted to leave with the posture of the village lost, but I didn't.
Only then would his strategic deterrence remain intact.
Only then would no other small village dare prey on them.
So he'd decided to fight the strongest three "kids" on this front one last time.
If he could kill even one, he would "show mercy" afterward and withdraw.
If he drove them off again, he would declare Amegakure's exit from the war as a victor.
None of that was said aloud.
But Yoru could read the intent.
His second evolution's reserves—and the stored space–time chakra inside his seal—gave him real confidence.
Once he phased, he became like Obito in the original story: no one could sense his chakra, and even Byakugan vision would fail to confirm the "real body." Phasing plus Transformation Jutsu made him capable of the kind of perfect infiltration White Zetsu excelled at.
With that combo, he'd already found Nagato recently—using coded signals only he and Konan understood. He had Konan prepare a cave-home in advance, and he'd learned that she'd already taken Nagato in as her "little brother."
If Yoru hadn't altered Konan's fate, the Ame orphans might've already formed the trio they were "supposed" to become.
By timeline, Amegakure should have withdrawn around now. In the original history, Hanzō spared the three and granted them the "Sannin" title.
Now, due to butterfly effects, there was still a "final bout."
It looked like Hanzō truly intended to step off the stage.
And after this, the "demigod" would only weaken with age.
A Hanzō running purely on one last burning will might actually be his strongest state.
With the second evolution and the growth he'd earned, Yoru suddenly made a bold decision.
"Orochimaru-sensei. Jiraiya-senpai," he said, "let me fight Hanzō alone this time."
Jiraiya's eyes bulged. "Have you lost it?! That's the top of the shinobi world! The three of us couldn't beat him before, and now you want to go solo?!"
Orochimaru's gaze sharpened. "Are you confident?"
Yoru grinned. "Right now? No matter who it is—I'm confident."
Ever since he developed Dimension Slash, his "true" combat tier had been the most ambiguous thing in the shinobi world.
From ordinary humans to pure Ōtsutsuki, he could cut anything.
With Flying Thunder God, he could cut anyone—and escape—so long as the opponent didn't have a higher-order space–time teleport of their own.
His only real weakness had always been stamina.
Now that both his chakra pools had grown and Flying Thunder God no longer relied solely on space–time chakra, that ambiguity only deepened.
Even if it was Hanzō, Yoru felt no fear. He had the means to fight.
Orochimaru, who understood his student's "real" danger better than anyone, nodded without hesitation.
"Alright. Hanzō is yours."
Jiraiya stared at him like he'd started speaking a new language.
A cocky student was one thing—why was the teacher matching that confidence too?
Had they forgotten how badly Hanzō had made them run for their lives this past year?
Even if time had passed, the gap between the Sannin and the "demigod" was still absurd.
Letting Yoru face Hanzō alone sounded like suicide—even with Flying Thunder God and "Black Lightning."
It would be smarter for all three to surround him and create openings for Yoru's "meteor" technique—the one that had once severed the salamander's tail and nearly killed both master and summon.
If luck favored them, their odds would be far higher than Yoru going alone.
Then, suddenly, Jiraiya's mind flashed.
Orochimaru had been hiding something from him and Tsunade: Yoru's true secret.
Was Yoru about to reveal it—right here?
Jiraiya's shock turned into anticipation.
If it was really that outrageous… maybe Yoru truly could deal with Hanzō.
~~~
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