Chapter 74: A Flash of a Different Color
Rewinding time, two days ago.
The northern part of the Land of Rain, a wasteland bordering the Land of Earth.
This was a desolate Gobi Desert, like the exposed skeleton of the earth, where the wind whistled mournfully through the crevices of strange, jagged rocks.
Ahead, a formation of five thousand Iwagakure Ninja was slowly advancing. Their brown armor merged into one mass, resembling a moving, living wall; with every step, the ground trembled.
This was the legendary "will of stone"—characterized by sheer stubbornness, high endurance, and overwhelming numbers.
"Now that's what I call professionalism."
On a large rock beside the boundary marker, Yahiko sat cross-legged, propping up his chin with one hand, tilting his head as he observed the dense army of Iwagakure Ninja below, treating them like a swarm of moving ants.
A bulging tactical backpack was casually tossed beside him, its zipper not fully closed, revealing a metallic sheen.
"I used to hear that Iwagakure specialized in producing stones. Now it seems they've channeled all that stubbornness into having children and stacking up numbers."
Konan stood quietly beside the boulder, her paper wings gently unfurling in the wind, her cool, clear eyes locked onto the man leading the opposing forces.
That guy was built like a mountain.
Kitsuchi.
The biological son of the Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki, and the true Crown Prince of Iwagakure. If nothing unexpected happened, the Tsuchikage hat would be his someday.
Just him standing there with his arms crossed created an overwhelming pressure that was enough to suffocate a person.
"Yahiko, leader of the Akatsuki, I've heard much about you."
Kitsuchi spoke, his voice deep and resounding like a drum.
"I hear you've been quite active recently, not only ending the civil war with Hanzou but also trying to establish 'Armed Neutrality' in the Land of Rain?"
Kitsuchi extended a finger as thick as a carrot, pointed at the mud beneath his feet, and spoke with arrogance:
"In front of the great Iwagakure army, 'neutrality' is a joke. If you don't want to die, step aside. Iwagakure needs to pass south to attack Konoha. We'll leave you some scraps afterward."
The arrogance of a great nation was always so self-righteous and boring.
"What if I say no?" Yahiko retorted with a smile.
Kitsuchi sneered and recited the long-standing proverb of Iwagakure:
"When a stone rolls down, it doesn't care if it crushes an ant or a blade of grass."
The moment he finished speaking, five thousand Iwagakure Ninja behind him roared in unison.
"Haaah—!!!"
The Killing Intent solidified into a storm, forcefully blowing away the fine rain in front of Yahiko.
"Sigh... I knew it."
Yahiko sighed helplessly and reached out to pat the backpack beside him.
"A weak nation has no diplomacy. Oh well, how does that saying go? Strike one decisive blow, and save yourself a hundred more."
He slowly stood up, looking down at Kitsuchi: "Since you insist on being the rolling stone, I suppose I'll reluctantly have to be the stone crusher."
A trace of contempt flashed in Kitsuchi's eyes: "Boastful fool! Vanguard, heed my command—crush them!"
Boom!
Hundreds of Iwagakure Ninja vanguards charged simultaneously, their running steps triggering localized tremors. No sophisticated tactics were needed; a charge of this scale was enough to trample two people into the dirt.
"Konan, step back a little"
Yahiko said softly.
The next second, under the gaze of thousands of eyes, he grabbed the backpack strap and sharply swung it upward.
Clatter—!
The backpack burst open, and dozens of oddly shaped "Three-pronged Kunai" rained down from the sky like a metal storm.
The specialized three-pronged blades gleamed with a chilling light beneath the gloomy sky.
"Th-that is..."
The Iwagakure veteran Ninja leading the charge suddenly stopped, their eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. A fear, sealed deep in their memories and named the "yellow flash," instantly assaulted their minds.
"Flying Thunder God Kunai?!"
The shrill cry was distorted.
"King Crimson!"
Yahiko roared internally.
The air warped, and the red-and-white grid Stand, invisible to others, instantly materialized. Its powerful arms, possessing A-rank strength and speed, became blurs, precisely intercepting the falling Kunai mid-air before throwing them with god-like speed that the naked eye couldn't track!
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh—!!!
The sharp sounds of cutting wind merged into one continuous whistle—the whistle of the Shinigami.
Dozens of Three-pronged Kunai seemed to have eyes, spreading out in a fan shape, instantly covering the position of the Iwagakure Vanguard. Coordinates were everywhere within a hundred meters.
At this moment, the air froze.
For the veterans who had experienced the Kannabi Bridge Battle, this scene was a nightmare rerun; their DNA was reacting.
Coordinates are in place.
Next comes... "Wait, no way..." An Iwagakure veteran's face turned pale, his calves cramping up. "Could that guy be..."
His dying words remained unfinished.
Because Yahiko's figure vanished.
Although Yahiko, having just completed the spatial jump, did not possess the superhuman reaction speed of Minato Namikaze. The instant he landed from the teleportation, he even needed a moment to recover from the spatial disorientation.
For an ordinary Ninja, this slight pause would be fatal.
But Yahiko didn't need to rely on reaction time.
Time Deletion
With a slight shift of thought, the world in Yahiko's eyes became a static, red-and-white checkered scroll.
The stiffness caused by the Flying Thunder God, the delay in focusing his vision, the deviation in the angle of his strike... all were perfectly corrected within the 0.5-second gap of deleted time.
In this frozen instant, Yahiko calmly adjusted his position and precisely placed the blade in his hand against the Iwagakure Ninja's wrist.
Time resumed its flow.
Pfft!
Blood erupted like a fountain.
Immediately afterward, Yahiko activated the Flying Thunder God again, flashing next to the next Kunai.
He was like a tireless ghost, leaping frantically through the dense array of Kunai.
To outsiders, this was a perfect art of slaughter.
The orange-haired figure wearing the Red Cloud Robe transformed into a refracting orange lightning bolt within the enemy formation.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of metal hitting the ground was as dense as rain, accompanied by hundreds of spurting blood arrows.
"Aaaahhhh—!!!"
The screams erupted belatedly, several seconds later.
Their hands hung down limply. Although the injuries were not fatal, they wouldn't be able to form hand signs or fight for a while.
"Retreat! Quick, retreat! It's the yellow flash!!"
Fear exploded like a plague.
Yahiko stood in the center of the wailing crowd, not a single drop of blood on him.
He turned around, looking past the chaotic crowd toward Kitsuchi in the distance.
"Can you listen to reason now, Your Excellency Kitsuchi?"
This was blatant humiliation.
Kitsuchi's face flushed crimson. As Ōnoki's son, although he appeared simple and honest, he was volatile underneath.
Watching his subordinates fall like harvested wheat, a burst of rage shot straight to his head.
"Earth Release: Mountain Spitting Technique!!"
Kitsuchi roared, his Chakra erupting completely, and his hands clapped together fiercely.
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