Death had come to the battlefield.
Panic rippled through the Sand shinobi ranks as reality crashed down on them—their numerical advantage, once insurmountable, had begun to evaporate. Comrades fell with no clear enemy, no exchanged blows. Just... silence. Then bodies.
"What the hell is happening?"
"Oh my God..."
"Is this even human power?"
The remaining Sand shinobi swallowed hard, cold sweat beading on their foreheads. They'd vastly outnumbered Konoha at the start. Now they found themselves fighting with fewer and fewer troops, surrounded by the corpses of fallen comrades—a grim reminder of what awaited them next.
The Konoha side, meanwhile, had taken almost no casualties. Their fighting spirit soared. The earlier sniper attacks had planted seeds of terror, and under the crushing, silent oppression, the enemy's resolve was beginning to fracture.
---
Across the battlefield, Orochimaru was locked in a fierce clash with Rasa.
Both were supreme commanders of their respective forces. Whoever crushed the other would essentially secure victory for the entire engagement. Both understood this perfectly.
Rasa sneered inwardly. Even if Sunagakure had suffered heavy losses to their elite ranks recently, they'd still deployed far more shinobi than Konoha. That gap in sheer numbers couldn't be bridged in the short term. Even if he couldn't defeat Orochimaru immediately, the overflow of shinobi could encircle the enemy and gain the upper hand on the main battlefield.
He assumed Orochimaru was frantic—desperate to save his own support force.
The more desperate he was, the less likely he was to succeed.
Orochimaru, however, kept glancing toward the distant section of the battlefield. That should be where Seiran was. Why had there been no direct word for so long? With Seiran's ability, the impact should have been significant. Still, he felt no worry. Even if the Sand shinobi outnumbered them, Seiran could at least erase part of the gap. There was no need to fret yet.
The flank belonged to Minato and Pakura. Minato had the Flying Thunder God Technique—he could handle her scorching attacks. But Elder Chiyo remained in reserve, a wild card neither could dismiss.
Originally, Elder Chiyo's old rival was Tsunade. The two had formed a vendetta during the Second Shinobi World War—an endless cycle of poison and cure, detoxification and repoison. In the end, Elder Chiyo lost, and Tsunade's name as the Medical Saint echoed across the shinobi world. Elder Chiyo, humiliated, had rushed at the legendary medic with her puppets, only to have them beaten into pulp.
Now, at her peak, Elder Chiyo remained a delicate balance of experience and strength. Normally, Tsunade wouldn't fear her. But Orochimaru knew very well that Tsunade currently suffered from hemophobia—a crippling weakness. She wasn't Elder Chiyo's match. And worse, she wasn't even on the front lines.
In that case, Sunagakure still surpassed Konoha in top-level combat power.
Orochimaru squinted at Rasa. He needed to crush him quickly, then handle Elder Chiyo.
---
"Magnet Release: Gold Dust Defense!"
Rasa rode high on his golden sand, took a breath, and raised his palm with pride. A massive surge of gold dust erupted with a rumbling sound, faint golden light reflecting terrifying power as it swept toward Orochimaru.
Orochimaru showed no fear. He bit his finger and slammed it onto the ground.
"Triple Rashomon!"
The earth shook. Clang! Clang! Clang! Three massive metal gates, carved with ghosts and gods, burst from the ground, blatantly blocking the gold dust wave's path.
BOOM!
The deafening roar echoed across the field. Shinobi nearby turned to watch, awed and terrified.
"Oh my God, such power..."
"Is this what being Kage-level means?"
Rasa's eyes narrowed. He increased his chakra output, and the gold dust swept over the three gates toward Orochimaru with renewed force, metal scraping against metal.
After resisting the three layers of Triple Rashomon, however, the wave had slowed significantly, its kinetic energy largely negated.
Orochimaru's pupils contracted. Triple Rashomon could resist a Tailed Beast Ball, but against the fluid nature of gold dust, its absolute defense faltered.
He was ready anyway. His body flattened against the ground, mouth opening wide like a four-legged beast.
"Ninja Art: Snake Array!"
Densely packed poisonous snakes poured from his mouth, crimson tongues flicking, a massive writhing tide of brown and scales. The scene was enough to terrify anyone with ophidiophobia to death.
A duel between snake and sand.
---
Meanwhile, Seiran moved through the battlefield toward the Iwa position, only to find fewer and fewer Sand shinobi around him. A vacuum had formed—hundreds of meters in every direction held nothing but air and corpses.
"Really? Are you guys that afraid of death?"
He pouted helplessly. The massive attrition had already broken their spirit.
Elder Chiyo, who had been searching for Tsunade, had to rush here instead. She stopped in shock, looking at the devastation. "What happened? Why are there so many casualties on this battlefield?"
The ground was covered in Konoha shuriken—some stuck to bodies like hedgehogs, others arranged in patterns and symbols.
"I don't know..." a Sand shinobi cried in horror. "All of a sudden, his companions are dead..."
"The shuriken are controlled by him. We simply can't..."
"There's no way..."
Elder Chiyo took a deep breath, her gaze fixing on Seiran—standing alone in the empty field. Her voice came cold and measured.
"Is that you? The genius of Konoha's new generation. I've heard the intel. Your shuriken manipulation... I didn't expect it to reach this level."
Unlike ordinary shinobi, Elder Chiyo had spanned three generations—from the Second Kazekage's era to now. In understanding Magnet Release, only the Kazekage herself could surpass her.
With a simple observation, she reached her conclusion instantly.
"Regular shinobi, retreat immediately. This is no longer a battle you can participate in. Puppeteers, prepare for combat!"
The puppeteers following Elder Chiyo immediately manipulated dozens of puppets to surround Seiran at a distance.
"Keep your distance!" Elder Chiyo ordered calmly. "Remember to guard against his shuriken control."
Judging from the carnage around them, Seiran's manipulation ability was extremely terrifying. Even she had to be careful.
But a puppeteer, she realized, is the perfect counter to this ability.
Puppeteers fought at range, maintaining long distance from their target. A skilled puppeteer could manipulate multiple puppets at once, and as long as a puppet stayed nearby, Seiran's magnetic attacks could be intercepted.
The battle was already decided.
---
Not far away, Konoha shinobi grew uneasy.
"Should we support Seiran?"
"That's Elder Chiyo! And so many puppeteers."
Rin Uchiha raised a hand, stopping them. With her knowledge of Seiran's abilities, those puppeteers were about to have a very bad day.
She said indifferently, "You don't need to move. Otherwise, you'll only add chaos to the situation."
"Is that so..."
The surrounding shinobi exchanged glances, hesitant, but since Rin had spoken, they deferred.
Looking at the puppets surrounding him, Seiran didn't show the slightest fear. Instead, he chuckled.
"Using this garbage to deal with me? How amusing."
The puppeteers around him instantly blazed with anger. They wanted to rush up and tear him apart.
Elder Chiyo gritted her teeth. She was the strongest puppeteer in Sunagakure, her decades of mastery unquestioned. How could she tolerate this humiliation?
Seiran quickly laughed with a hint of mock apology.
"I'm sorry! I'm not targeting you."
Elder Chiyo's face softened slightly.
That's more like it.
"I mean," Seiran continued with a cruel smile, "all of you here... It's all garbage."
---
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