The Lightning Ridge was a vertical wasteland of iron-rich rock and permanent thunderstorms. The very ground hummed with a static charge that made the hair on Renza's neck stand on end. He stood at the edge of a precipice, his slate-grey cloak replaced by the standard green flak jacket of a Leaf Jonin, though he still wore the hood to shade his scarred face.
The left side of his vision was dark, a void he had to compensate for by constantly rotating his head and relying on his Wind Breathing to "feel" the air currents on his blind side. He had become more than just fast; he had become hypersensitive.
"Commander Renza," a scout from the Inuzuka clan reported, his ninken growling at the ozone in the air. "We've got movement at the Iron Pass. It's not a standard unit. The tremors are too rhythmic. It's a heavy-hitter vanguard."
"How many?" Renza asked, his voice rasping.
"Just two," the scout said, his voice trembling. "But one of them... he's wearing the Raikage's crest. It's the heir. The one they call 'A'."
Renza tightened the grip on his trench knives. He had heard the rumors. The Hidden Cloud's "A" was a man who lived within a Lightning Style Chakra Mode, a brute of pure speed and power who had been crushing Leaf platoons like dry twigs.
"Fall back to the secondary line," Renza commanded. "If you stay, the static discharge from his arrival will fry your nervous system. This is a Gale-priority target."
Renza didn't have to wait long. A crack of thunder that wasn't from the sky split the silence of the ridge. A streak of brilliant blue lightning tore through the valley, shattering boulders and leaving a trail of ionized air that smelled of ozone and burnt stone.
The blue bolt slammed into the plateau fifty paces from Renza. When the dust cleared, a massive man with golden hair and skin like bronzed armor stood there, sparks of electricity dancing across his muscles. Beside him was a younger, darker-skinned boy with a sword on his back—Killer B, the apprentice to the storm.
"So," A boomed, his voice a literal roar that vibrated in Renza's chest. "The Leaf is so desperate they send a one-eyed brat to hold the Iron Pass? Where are the Sannin? Where is the White Fang? Did they run out of men and start sending the village's leftovers?"
Renza stepped forward, the wind beginning to swirl around his feet in a gentle, mocking spiral. "The Sannin are holding the Suna desert. The White Fang is busy dismantling your supply lines. You get the Gale today. And believe me... I'm plenty to handle."
"Gale?" A laughed, his body suddenly erupting into a flickering shroud of blue lightning. "Wind doesn't stop lightning, boy. It just feeds the fire! If the Sannin aren't here, I'll just have to settle for breaking their favorite subordinate!"
"Lightning Style: Lariat!"
A didn't run; he became a projectile. The sheer speed of his initial burst was enough to liquefy the stone beneath his feet. He was a wall of muscle and electricity moving at a speed that would have decapitated any other shinobi before they could even perceive the flash.
"Eight Inner Gates: Gate of Opening... RELEASE!" "Eight Inner Gates: Gate of Healing... RELEASE!"
Renza met the charge. He didn't try to block the Lariat—that would be suicide. Instead, he used Wind Breathing, Third Form: Redirecting Draft. At the micro-second of impact, Renza exhaled a blast of high-pressure air from his palms, tilting his body just inches to the right.
A's arm whistled past Renza's ear, the sheer wind-shear of the move drawing blood from Renza's cheek, but the counter was set. Renza spun, his leg a blur of violet-teal energy, and delivered a roundhouse kick to A's exposed ribs.
BOOM.
The impact sounded like a cannon firing. A was sent sliding backward, his boots melting the rock as he fought for friction. He stopped, a wide, predatory grin spreading across his face as he looked at the boy with the scarred eye.
"You're fast," A admitted, wiping a speck of dust from his shoulder. "But you're breathing hard. My Lightning Mode is constant. Your 'Gates' are a flickering candle. Let's see which one goes out first."
The battle moved across the ridge like a forest fire. A was a hammer, delivering strikes that shattered the landscape, while Renza was the air—impossible to catch, yet always biting.
Renza realized he couldn't win a battle of raw strength. Every time he touched A, the Lightning Chakra Mode sent a jolt through his body, numbing his muscles. He had to use the one thing Lightning couldn't penetrate: The Void.
"Wind Breathing, Eighth Form: Sky-Hollow Prison!"
Renza began to circle A at a speed that created a massive, spinning wall of air. He wasn't trying to cut A; he was sucking the oxygen out of the circle. Lightning requires an atmosphere to conduct; the internal combustion of A's speed required air to burn.
A's blue aura began to flicker. He gasped for air, his movements becoming sluggish as his muscles began to starve for oxygen.
"Clever... brat!" A grunted. He slammed his fists together. "Lightning Style: Double Lariat—MAXIMUM VOLTAGE!"
A didn't strike Renza. He struck the ground. He released an omnidirectional burst of electricity so powerful it turned the sand into glass. The shockwave broke Renza's vacuum, sending the Silver Gale flying backward into a stone pillar.
Renza hit the rock hard, his breath escaping in a pained wheeze. His scar throbbed with a cold, venomous memory of Hanzō.
"You're good," A said, walking toward him, the blue lightning starting to stabilize again. "The best I've seen in the Leaf's younger generation. But without the Sannin to back you up, this ridge is mine."
Renza looked up, his one good eye flashing with a defiant, emerald light. He thought of Renju at the coast. He thought of the eyes Renju was protecting. He couldn't fall here.
"Eight Inner Gates: Gate of Life... RELEASE!"
The emerald aura erupted. Renza stood up, his speed now reaching a level that made even A's eyes widen. They clashed in the center of the plateau—green light against blue lightning.
The exchange lasted only ten seconds, but in those ten seconds, they traded over a hundred blows. The ridge itself began to crumble under the sheer pressure of their combined chakra.
Renza landed a palm-strike to A's chest, infused with a Vacuum Pulse that bypassed the lightning armor and struck the lungs directly. Simultaneously, A landed a glancing blow to Renza's shoulder that sent a thousand volts through his spine.
They both leaped back, gasping, their respective auras flickering.
"Enough!" a voice boomed from the Cloud's side. It was an elder commander, flanked by dozens of reinforcements. "The Leaf's main force is retreating to the secondary valley! We've taken the ridge! 'A', we have orders to hold, not pursue!"
A looked at Renza, his chest heaving. He deactivated his lightning mode, the sparks dying out. "You're lucky, Silver Gale. If we had another ten minutes, I'd have seen what color your blood is when it boils."
"And if we had ten minutes," Renza rasped, his emerald aura fading into a weary grey, "you'd have found out that even lightning can't strike what it can't feel."
The Kumo forces held the ridge, but they didn't push further. The ceasefire in the Rain had forced the Cloud to reconsider their overextension.
Renza sat in the mud as his squad arrived to pick him up. His body was a map of burns and bruises, and his left eye felt like it was being poked with a hot needle. He looked toward the South, toward the Land of Water.
"The war is changing," Renza whispered to himself. "The big invasions are over. Now... now it's just the specialists. The monsters."
As he was carried back to the medical tent, Renza clutched the hilt of his trench knife. He had survived 'A'. He had held the Northern Border. But as he looked at the white bandages being wrapped around his arm, he realized that the "Silver Gale" was no longer a name for a boy. It was a name for a weapon that was slowly being used up.