Chapter 436: Deidara and Ōnoki
The air above the battlefield tore open with a sharp, whistling cadence.
High above the chaotic clash of steel and jutsu, Deidara stood perched against the wind, his Akatsuki cloak replaced by the dark, imposing uniform of his new allegiance. He swept both hands outward in a grand, theatrical arc. From his palms, a torrential downpour of white clay birds plummeted toward the earth. They fell like a bizarre, silent hailstorm, their tiny wings locked in a dive aimed directly at the densest concentration of the Allied Shinobi Forces.
Down in the mud and blood, heads tilted upward. The Allied ninjas paused their skirmishes, their eyes tracking the descending white specks with a mixture of confusion and dread.
"What is that?" a Kumogakure shinobi muttered, wiping a streak of grime from his forehead.
"Birds?"
"Are they some kind of new hidden weapon from Konoha?" a Sand ninja asked, his grip tightening on his kunai.
They never got their answer.
High in the clouds, Deidara brought his right hand up, snapping his index and middle fingers together into a single, vertical seal resting just before his chest. A manic, unhinged grin stretched across his face, exposing his teeth as a feverish light danced in his blue eyes.
"Art is..." he whispered, the thrill of the moment vibrating in his throat. Then, his voice tore through the sky, echoing over the entire battlefield. "An EXPLOSION! Katsu!"
A deafening chain of detonations ripped the world apart.
The ground heaved. Blinding columns of crimson and orange fire erupted from the earth, swallowing dozens of shinobi in a fraction of a second. The shockwaves overlapped, creating a continuous, ear-splitting roar that shattered eardrums and sent bodies flying like broken dolls. Those tiny, inconspicuous clay sculptures unleashed a devastating payload of pure kinetic fury. The once-disciplined ranks of the Allied Forces dissolved into a screaming, chaotic meat grinder of smoke and shrapnel.
A thunderous crack of lightning paused.
The Fourth Raikage, A, who had been locked in a high-speed, lethal standoff with Uchiha Fugaku, snapped his head toward the blast zone. The reflection of the towering inferno danced across his dark eyes. Veins bulged thick and blue along his muscular neck as he watched his own Kumogakure troops being incinerated.
"That chakra signature..." A's jaw locked, his teeth grinding together so hard they threatened to crack. "That is Iwagakure's Explosion Release! How the hell is that coming from Konoha's side?!"
The Raikage spun on his heel, his lightning armor flaring violently as he directed his murderous glare across the battlefield toward a floating, diminutive figure.
"Ōnoki! What kind of sick game are you playing, you treacherous old fossil?!"
Hovering several meters above the ground, the Third Tsuchikage looked just as horrified. Ōnoki's wrinkled face drained of color before flushing with a deep, apoplectic red. His bulbous nose flared, and his white beard trembled violently as he stared up at the blonde youth surfing the air currents on a massive clay owl.
"Deidara..." Ōnoki hissed, the name tasting like ash in his mouth. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles popped. "That treacherous, ungrateful disciple! He actually defected to Konoha!"
Up in the smoke-stained sky, Deidara was practically vibrating with euphoria. He leaned over the edge of his clay mount, drinking in the sight of the cratered earth and the scattering, terrified ants below.
"Hahahaha! Do you see that?!" he screamed into the wind, throwing his arms wide. "This is true art! But don't die just yet! That was merely the appetizer, hm!"
He plunged both hands deep into the heavy pouches resting at his hips. The grotesque, jagged mouths embedded in his palms immediately went to work, chewing frantically on the explosive clay. A wet, rhythmic munching sound echoed from his hands, accompanied by the squelch of molding chakra.
"Since you all went through the trouble of gathering in one place, let's give you a proper masterpiece!" The fanatical gleam in Deidara's eyes sharpened into something entirely unhinged.
He yanked his hands free, molding the chewed mass together before hurling a massive, heavy glob of white clay high into the air above him.
"Katsu!"
A massive plume of thick white smoke erupted in the sky. As the vapor cleared, a colossal shadow fell over the battlefield. A gargantuan, winged white dragon materialized, its heavy tail thrashing the air currents as it let out a silent, terrifying roar.
The C2 Dragon.
Down on the ruined earth, Ōnoki's pupils shrank to pinpricks. A cold sweat broke out across his wrinkled brow. As the boy's former master, he knew the devastating capabilities of that specific creation intimately.
"Dammit all!" Ōnoki abandoned all pretense of Kage-level composure. He cupped his hands around his mouth and roared at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking with desperation. "Scatter! Everyone scatter immediately! Break formation! That is the C2 Dragon! It fires guided explosive missiles!"
The warning came seconds too late.
Standing proudly atop the dragon's broad, horned head, Deidara looked down at the frantic, scrambling shinobi. A cruel, mocking smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Way too slow, Tsuchikage-sama," he whispered. He pointed a single finger downward. "Go! C2 Dragon Missiles!"
The giant clay beast unhinged its massive jaws. With a series of heavy, pneumatic thumps, spherical clay missiles launched from its throat like artillery shells. They ignited mid-air, trailing long, vicious tails of orange flame as they whistled down toward the tightly packed center of the Allied vanguard.
The ensuing detonations completely erased the sounds of clashing steel and screaming men. A blinding flash of white light consumed the center of the valley, followed by a shockwave that flattened tents and uprooted ancient trees. Desperate Iwagakure and Konoha defectors slammed their hands onto the dirt, summoning thick mud walls and rock domes in a frantic bid for survival. But the sheer concussive force of the C2 missiles shattered the Earth Release defenses like brittle glass. Jagged chunks of rock and burning shrapnel tore through the ranks, leaving a massive, smoking crater filled with groaning, broken bodies.
"You absolute bastard!" Ōnoki shrieked, his vision swimming with rage. He slammed his palms together. "Earth Release: Light-Weight Rock Jutsu!"
The gravity binding the old Tsuchikage vanished. With a furious roar, Ōnoki launched himself skyward, his small frame blurring into a high-speed afterimage. He tore through the smoke clouds, ascending rapidly until he hovered directly across from the massive clay dragon, leveling a murderous glare at his former student.
"Deidara! You reckless, irredeemable traitor!" Ōnoki's voice boomed across the open sky. "You actually dare to slaughter your own fellow villagers?! Has your conscience been completely devoured by dogs?!"
Facing the wrath of the Third Tsuchikage, Deidara merely blinked. Then, he let out a short, breathy chuckle, as if the old man had just delivered a rather dry punchline. He lazily raised a hand and dug his pinky finger into his ear, his posture completely relaxed.
"Fellow villagers?" Deidara blew on the tip of his finger, his blue eyes entirely devoid of warmth. "Ah, you mean those uncultured idiots down there who couldn't recognize true art if it blew up in their faces?" He gestured casually toward the burning crater below. "To be sublimated in the fleeting brilliance of my art is the greatest honor they will ever achieve in their pathetic lives, hm!"
Ōnoki's chest heaved violently, his breaths coming in ragged, furious gasps.
"I never should have spared you back then! I should have thrown you into the deepest cell in the village and let you rot in the dark!" He pointed a trembling finger at the blonde bomber. "Get down there and surrender immediately! If you drop to your knees right now, for the sake of our past bond, I might just leave you with an intact corpse!"
It was a desperate bluff. Ōnoki was trying to project the absolute, crushing authority of a Kage, but beneath the blistering anger lay a bitter, aching regret. He had watched this boy grow up. He had molded him, trained him, and once looked at that arrogant, smiling face and seen the future of Iwagakure. Even now, staring at a mass murderer, a foolish, stubborn part of the old man hoped he could still drag his wayward student back from the abyss.
Deidara stared back at him, his expression twisting into one of deep pity, as if he were looking at a senile old fool.
"Surrender?" Deidara threw his head back and let out a sharp, exaggerated bark of laughter. "Old man, did your spine finally snap, and take your brain cells down with it? I am now the Captain of Konoha's Demolition Squad!" He slammed a fist against his chest, his eyes burning with a terrifying, absolute conviction. "In this entire rotting world, only Konoha, and only my Big Brother, truly understands the magnificent essence of my art!"
The title caught Ōnoki off guard. The old man blinked, his mind racing to connect the dots. Then, the realization hit him like a physical blow.
"Big Brother? You mean that demonic brat... Uchiha Akira!" Ōnoki's voice cracked, his fury reaching a boiling point. "You, the undisputed genius of Iwagakure's Explosion Corps, are bowing your head and calling an Uchiha from Konoha your 'Big Brother'?! Where is your pride?! Where is your Will of Stone?!"
"Shut your mouth!"
The mocking amusement vanished from Deidara's face, replaced by a cold, venomous snarl.
"I will not allow you to insult Big Brother!" He jabbed an accusing finger right back at the floating Kage. "What the hell do you know, old man?! The Will of Stone? That is nothing but pathetic, outdated garbage you old fogies use to brainwash children into dying for your political games! Only Big Brother Akira truly sees my talent! He alone comprehends the sublime, fleeting beauty of an explosion!"
As he spoke, a strange, unnatural light flickered deep within Deidara's pupils—the terrifying, invisible grip of the Kotoamatsukami. It was a loyalty so absolute, so deeply rewritten into his very soul, that he believed it to be his own obvious truth.
"He gave me a true place to belong!"
"A place to belong?!" Ōnoki let out a harsh, broken laugh, the sheer absurdity of the situation tearing at his sanity. "You are being manipulated! Your mind is being twisted by the Sharingan, and you are standing there wagging your tail like a grateful dog! You absolute idiot!"
"Controlled?" Deidara sneered, his lip curling in utter disdain. "You are too blind to see the truth. This is an absolute bond! A perfect alignment of souls, hm!"
Deidara sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He tilted his head, adopting a sickeningly sincere expression, as if he were a patient teacher lecturing a slow student.
"Look, old man, since you used to teach me, I will do you a favor and give you some advice. Stop fighting." He gestured vaguely to the burning battlefield below. "Really, there is no future in this pathetic resistance. Just gather up whatever miserable remnants you have left down there and surrender to Big Brother."
Deidara nodded to himself, speaking with absolute, deadpan seriousness.
"I know Big Brother Akira looks a bit terrifying when he is slaughtering people, but he is actually incredibly generous to his loyal subordinates." He leaned forward, a vicious, mocking glint returning to his eyes. "If you drop to your knees right now, kowtow until your forehead bleeds, and officially merge Iwagakure into Konoha... maybe Big Brother will be in a good mood. He might even reward you with the prestigious title of 'Konoha Sanitation Squad Captain.'"
Deidara chuckled, the sound dripping with malice.
"After all, your Dust Release is incredibly convenient for vaporizing trash, hm!"
A metallic sweetness flooded the back of Ōnoki's throat. He clamped his mouth shut, nearly coughing up a mouthful of blood from the sheer, suffocating spike in his blood pressure.
Sanitation Squad Captain. Vaporizing trash.
He was the Third Tsuchikage. He had ruled the Hidden Stone for decades, commanded tens of thousands of shinobi, and stood as a living, breathing legend of the Ninja World. And here he was, hovering in the sky, being utterly humiliated by the brat whose diapers he had practically changed.
"DEI! DA! RA!!!"
Ōnoki's voice tore from his throat in a hysterical, bloodcurdling roar.
He slammed his wrinkled palms together with a resounding crack, then slowly pulled them apart. The air between his hands warped and hummed. A translucent, perfectly geometric cubic barrier materialized in the space between his palms. A blinding, terrifyingly dense white light began to converge frantically at its center, emitting a low, vibrating hum that made the very atmosphere tremble.
"Since you refuse to repent, then I will personally fulfill your twisted desire for art!" Ōnoki screamed, his eyes wide and bloodshot. "I will turn you, that clay monstrosity, and your bullshit 'Big Brother' into atomic dust together! Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique!"
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