Night consumed the landscape—absolute darkness fractured only by jagged lightning.
The Iwa shinobi pursuit force moved with predatory purpose, their numbers overwhelming. The commander barked orders, pointing at squad after squad. "Take that one, that one, you, and you! Each team takes a different route—cut off his escape! Taiseki!"
"Understood!"
The moment the acknowledgment left their lips, the sky erupted.
Blue lightning tore through the darkness in a brilliant arc, and for one searing instant, every face in the Iwa formation was illuminated by terror. One of their sensor shinobi simply ceased to exist—vaporized by the electromagnetic discharge.
"Damn it! That trick again!" Taiseki's teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached.
Hyuga Seiran struck with methodical precision, each target chosen with surgical care. Sensor shinobi. Communication specialists. Anyone who could relay information back to their superiors.
He's trying to blind us.
The realization settled over Taiseki like ice water. They were operating in darkness. Without sensors, they were worthless—a blind mob flailing through the night. And with communications severed, command couldn't coordinate. Couldn't reinforce. Couldn't adapt.
"Has the signal reached Lord Ōnoki?" Taiseki demanded.
"Negative, sir." A pale-faced Iwa shinobi swallowed hard. "The liaison teams are... they're all gone. That jutsu—"
Despite superior numbers, superior firepower, they hadn't even scratched him. Seiran danced through their ranks like a ghost, striking from shadows and vanishing before retaliation could land. The frustration was maddening.
This ability—this power to sever communications—could reshape an entire war.
Taiseki's fury burned white-hot. He couldn't allow this. Couldn't let the kid live.
---
Seiran's Byakugan pushed beyond its normal limits, seeing everything—the Iwa shinobi's positions, their formations, their desperate attempts at communication. The moment he detected a sensor's chakra pattern or spotted someone reaching for a messaging bird, he fired.
Another electromagnetic railgun shot. Clean. Decisive.
The night became his hunting ground. They stumbled blind through darkness while he struck from the shadows.
[Electromagnetic Manipulation EXP +128]
[Electromagnetic Manipulation EXP +131]
...
Death had a way of sharpening the mind. Seiran's potential was exploding—his growth rate skyrocketing compared to routine training. Each combat second yielded more experience than hours in isolation.
He was only two thousand EXP away from Level 4.
If I maintain this pace, I don't need to run. I can use them as my grinding stone and break through right here.
Level 4 would change everything. Even an elite like Orochimaru would struggle against this many opponents head-on. But Seiran would be unstoppable.
He pulled a storage scroll from his pouch.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
Poof! Poof! Poof!
Dozens of clones materialized around him, emerging from the darkness like phantoms. From the scroll, white mist released a cascade of weapons—bows, crossbows, kunai, shuriken, and several massive black cannons with crackling electrical muzzles.
Seiran's voice cut through the night, cold and commanding. "Those Iwa shinobi hunting us? Tear them to pieces."
"YES!" His clones roared in unison, voices shaking the air.
Behind Taiseki, the Iwa formation had shifted defensively. The two remaining sensor shinobi were buried deep in the center, layered behind ranks of expendable troops. If Seiran fired again, the grunts would die first, absorbing the blow. They were literally trading lives to protect their sensory advantage.
Taiseki's jaw clenched. Acceptable losses. He had to kill Seiran now. If this kid matured, if he grew into that potential, the consequences would be catastrophic.
"Charge!" he roared.
"Contact! Lord Taiseki!" The sensor shinobi's voice cracked with shock. "Massive chakra signature ahead! Multiple entities—it's a clone technique!"
Multiple clones?
Taiseki's mind raced. Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu—the forbidden technique from the First Hokage. Hundreds of clones, but with brutal chakra drain and feedback. A desperate move. A dying man's last gambit.
"He's panicking," Taiseki sneered. "Running with clones to confuse us. Pathetic."
The smile died on his face in the next heartbeat.
The night sky ignited blue.
Hundreds of Seiran's figures stood silhouetted against crackling electrical arcs, each one cradling massive black cannon barrels. Lightning danced around the muzzles like living things.
"Second Squad! The railgun—where is it?!" the lead clone bellowed.
"Here!" another roared back.
The cannons locked into position, crackling with barely contained power.
"Fire!"
"FIRE!"
The explosions were apocalyptic.
Huge iron spheres wrapped in lightning screams tore through the Iwa ranks. The world became thunder and destruction. Bodies lifted. Bones snapped. The formation shattered like glass.
"What is this?!" Taiseki's scream barely registered over the chaos.
A sniper rifle. Now a cannon. How had the kid shifted tactics so completely, so fast?
In the distance, Seiran's lips curved into a predator's smile.
The Magnetic Storm Legion's debut performance.
Not disappointing in the slightest.
[Electromagnetic Manipulation EXP +145]
[Electromagnetic Manipulation EXP +243]
As his shadow clones unleashed hell, the experience points surged.