[Naruto : Yellow Flash] Chapter 496 - 500

Chapter 496: Sasori's Actions

At the border of the Land of the Moon, within the Konoha camp, tension filled the air.

"The war in the Land of Rain has reached a stalemate," Tsunade murmured as she studied the latest battle report sent from the village. Her brows knitted in a mixture of solemnity and disbelief. "Over the past two months, neither side has managed to secure a decisive victory despite multiple clashes."

Orochimaru, standing beside her, wore a similarly contemplative expression. As two of the legendary Sannin, they understood the gravity of the situation better than most.

The report detailed Minato Namikaze's ongoing efforts on the battlefield. Not only had he managed to fight Hanzo the Salamander—a man whose strength they both knew well—but he had also held his ground against the combined might of the Fourth Kazekage Rasa and the Four-Tails' Jinchuriki, Roshi.

"If Minato didn’t possess such extraordinary strength, Konoha’s defenses in the Land of Rain would have been overrun by the coalition forces of the three nations long ago," Tsunade said, her voice tinged with gratitude.

Orochimaru nodded. "And if that had happened, the entire Land of Fire would be engulfed in the flames of war."

Konoha's forces were stretched thin. The village, once a dominant power, no longer had the resources or manpower to resist a three-nation alliance.

"The key moving forward lies in the reserves each side has accumulated over the years," Hatake Sakumo interjected. His sharp gaze scanned the report, and a faint sense of relief crossed his face. "For now, the balance holds."

Sakumo's thoughts drifted to his son, Kakashi, and their comrade Jun Watanabe, both of whom were stationed on the Rain Country battlefield. The knowledge that neither side had gained a decisive advantage eased some of the tension weighing on him.

The battles across the Land of Rain, the Land of Fire’s coastline, and other critical fronts had devolved into grueling wars of attrition. The once-clear lines of victory had blurred as both sides suffered heavy losses.

"Ending this war will take far more than sheer strength," Tsunade admitted.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a scout burst into the tent, his face marked with urgency.

"Leaders, we’ve received word from the sentries—Cloud Ninja troops are regrouping and preparing to advance!"

Tsunade's expression hardened immediately. "Alert the camp and prepare for battle!" she commanded.

"Yes!" The scout rushed out, leaving the leaders to ready themselves for the coming conflict.

Meanwhile, in the depths of a dark forest, the ground rippled unnaturally. White Zetsu emerged from the shadows, his pale figure blending with the eerie surroundings.

"As expected," he said, his tone tinged with satisfaction. "The Red Sand Scorpion has begun moving toward the coastline of the Land of Fire. He’s heading straight for the battlefield where 'that guy' is stationed."

Madara Uchiha, shrouded in the shadows, chuckled softly at the report.

White Zetsu tilted his head, curiosity evident. "Why were you so certain that Sasori would head for the battlefield between Konoha and Kirigakure, rather than the Land of Rain?"

Madara’s voice carried an air of amusement as he replied, "It’s simple. The boy fears Minato Namikaze. He knows he’s no match for the Yellow Flash, and his poison techniques are useless against Tsunade, who can neutralize them with her medical ninjutsu. It’s only logical he would avoid direct confrontation."

Zetsu nodded slowly. "And by targeting the Konoha forces stationed against Kirigakure, he avoids his biggest obstacles while still having a chance to weaken Konoha's defenses. Clever."

Madara’s smirk widened. "He understands that defeating Minato head-on is unnecessary. If he can contribute to Konoha’s downfall on another front, opportunities for revenge will follow naturally."

Madara’s eyes gleamed with calculated intent. "Follow him closely. Learn his plans. And when the time comes, use your influence as the Third Mizukage to ensure Kirigakure supports his efforts."

Zetsu hesitated briefly. "Do you think he’s already contacted Kirigakure?"

Madara shrugged, unconcerned. "Perhaps. But whether they officially ally with him or not, they’ll use him to their advantage. It’s only natural."

On the coastline of the Land of Fire, the air was thick with the salt of the sea. A dense fog rolled in as the night deepened, shrouding the landscape in a ghostly veil.

Near a low hill several miles from the Konoha camp, a lone figure crouched in the shadows. His crimson hair, tied neatly behind him, fluttered slightly in the cool breeze.

Sasori of the Red Sand gazed toward the distant lights of the Konoha encampment. A faint smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

"If they think their sentries can stop me, they’re gravely mistaken," he muttered.

As an S-rank criminal of the Sand Village, Sasori knew better than to approach Konoha’s camp openly. The alliance between Kirigakure and Sunagakure made his position precarious—Kirigakure wouldn’t risk exposing their ties to a wanted man, no matter how useful he might be.

But Sasori didn’t need their overt support.

Over the next few days, he moved like a shadow along the camp’s perimeter, evading detection with ease. Konoha’s Byakugan users might have been able to spot him under normal circumstances, but Sasori had prepared for this. His puppets scattered around the area acted as decoys, drawing attention away from his true position.

At sunset on the third day, Sasori stood atop a cliff overlooking the camp. The setting sun bathed his delicate, youthful face in a warm, golden glow.

"Almost time," he murmured.

His plan was simple yet devastating: weaken Konoha’s forces through sabotage and misinformation, then signal Kirigakure to launch a full-scale assault. Even if he couldn’t directly participate, his actions would pave the way for Kirigakure’s victory—and Konoha’s downfall.

Satisfied, Sasori disappeared into the gathering dusk.

In the Hidden Mist camp along the coast of the Land of Waves, the atmosphere was tense.

Clang!
A kunai, its blade glinting ominously in the moonlight, struck the ground near the camp’s gate.

The guards reacted instantly, deflecting the weapon and searching the area. Finding nothing, one of them retrieved the kunai, discovering a small scroll tied to its handle.

Inside the command tent, Terumi Mei, the future Mizukage, examined the scroll. Her brow furrowed as she read its contents, her lips forming a single name.

"Sasori of the Red Sand," she murmured. "He wants to use Kirigakure to take revenge on Konoha."

The message was clear. Sasori was offering his skills in exchange for support against Konoha, but his true intentions were far more complex. Terumi knew better than to trust someone of Sasori’s reputation, especially considering his status as a wanted criminal.

As she deliberated, another figure entered the tent—a messenger carrying an urgent scroll.

Terumi’s eyes narrowed as she unrolled it. "An order from the Third Mizukage?"

Chapter 497: Defense

"Why would the Third Mizukage issue an order at this time?"

Terumi Ryuunosuke furrowed his brow, confusion flashing across his face as he carefully unrolled the scroll. His eyes scanned the text, and as the meaning of the message sank in, his expression darkened.

"How could the Third Mizukage, who is far away at the Hidden Mist front line, know such details?" His voice was tinged with disbelief.

The message ordered the Hidden Mist ninja to act in coordination with Sasori of the Red Sand's plan. But this revelation sent a chill down Ryuunosuke’s spine—Sasori’s plan had been shared with him mere hours ago. How could the Mizukage already know?

His hands trembled slightly as he clenched the scroll. The Third Mizukage's uncanny ability to gather intelligence, even from great distances, was no secret. Yet the speed and precision of this information left Ryuunosuke uneasy.

After a long pause, he steeled himself, his expression hardening. Turning to his subordinates, he barked, "Everyone, prepare your gas masks. When the signal comes, we’ll launch an assault on Konoha."

Meanwhile, on the coastline of the Land of Fire, in a quiet corner of Konoha’s camp, Uchiha Yoruki sat within his tent. The dim glow of a single lamp illuminated his stoic face as he meticulously cleaned his weapon, the rhythmic movement of the black cloth against steel the only sound breaking the silence.

"What are you doing here?" Yoruki’s voice was calm and cold, his gaze never leaving the blade he held.

Behind him, Uchiha Yoru stood, his face betraying a mixture of hesitation and frustration. "During this war, you’ve fought against the Seven Ninja Swordsmen multiple times. Many of the clan members are in awe of your strength. Your reputation and—"

Yoruki turned, his Sharingan glowing ominously, the three tomoe spinning slowly. "I thought I told you not to bring that up again," he said, his tone devoid of emotion.

Yoru’s face turned pale. "I’m your father," he began, his voice rising with indignation.

Before he could say more, Yoruki’s weapon was unsheathed and pressed lightly against his neck.

"This is a battlefield," Yoruki said softly, yet with a razor-sharp edge to his words. "If you ever speak of that again, I won’t hesitate to act."

As he withdrew his blade, Yoru stood frozen, his face a mix of fury and disbelief. Yoruki, unfazed, exited the tent without a backward glance.

Stepping outside, Yoruki took a deep breath. A breeze swept in from inland, ruffling his dark hair. The coastline was quiet, the lull before the inevitable storm.

As he patrolled the camp, Yoruki noted how the other ninjas regarded him. Their expressions ranged from admiration to wariness—a natural response given his prowess in battle. Yet Yoruki cared little for their opinions. His focus had been singular for over a decade, and nothing else mattered.

"Oh, there you are!"

The cheerful voice of Nawaki Senju interrupted his thoughts. Nawaki approached, his grin wide and his steps light despite the tension in the air.

"Do you need something?" Yoruki asked, his tone flat.

"Can’t I just have a chat with an old friend?" Nawaki quipped. "We’ve known each other long enough—"

"I don’t have time for idle chatter," Yoruki said curtly, turning on his heel to leave.

Nawaki chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Don’t be so cold!" he called after him.

Before Nawaki could follow, he paused, sniffing the air. His cheerful expression gave way to confusion.

"Something smells… strange," he muttered, glancing around.

Yoruki ignored him, his focus returning to the horizon. Suddenly, a bright flare shot into the sky from the direction of the coastline, bursting into a fiery bloom.

Bang!

Both men turned toward the sound, their expressions immediately sharpening. From their vantage point, they could just make out small black dots moving along the coastline.

"They’re here again," Nawaki said grimly, his carefree demeanor replaced by cold determination.

Within seconds, the camp sprang to life. Konoha ninjas poured out of their tents, their movements swift and disciplined. Years of war had honed their instincts, and they fell into formation with practiced ease.

Uchiha Fugaku appeared beside Nawaki and Yoruki, his expression stern as he assessed the situation.

"Move out!" he commanded, his voice carrying authority.

The assembled ninjas surged forward, heading toward the advancing enemy forces. The coastline, devoid of natural barriers, provided a clear path for both sides to engage.

But as the two armies drew closer, something unexpected happened.

A Konoha ninja in the front line suddenly staggered, then collapsed without warning. His comrades, startled, rushed to his aid.

Before they could react, more ninjas began to fall. One after another, they dropped to the ground, their bodies trembling as if paralyzed. Though they were alive, their strength seemed utterly drained.

"What’s happening?" Fugaku demanded, his voice laced with urgency.

Even as he spoke, he felt his own limbs growing heavy. A wave of numbness spread through his body, and he struggled to remain standing. Beside him, Yoruki’s condition was no better.

"It’s poison," Nawaki said, his voice grim but steady. Unlike the others, he seemed relatively unaffected. His lineage as a Senju had gifted him an extraordinary constitution, allowing him to resist the effects.

"Poison? How could Kirigakure poison us without getting past our defenses?" Nara Shikaku asked, his voice weak as he collapsed to the ground.

Nawaki shook his head. "This isn’t Kirigakure’s doing. They don’t have anyone capable of this. Only one person comes to mind—Sasori of the Red Sand."

The mention of Sasori’s name sent a ripple of unease through the group.

"He’s the only one with the skill to pull this off," Nawaki continued. "My sister anticipated this possibility. That’s why she had me bring these."

From a scroll in his ninja tool pouch, Nawaki retrieved several bottles of pills. He swallowed one himself before hurrying to administer them to Fugaku and Yoruki.

"Take these," he urged. "They’re special antidotes my sister created."

Though hesitant at first, the poisoned ninjas obeyed, swallowing the pills Nawaki distributed. Slowly, the numbness began to fade, replaced by a renewed sense of strength.

"We don’t have much time," Nawaki warned. "Kirigakure’s forces are closing in fast!"

Fugaku, now able to stand, nodded. "Distribute the antidote to everyone immediately. We can’t afford to falter."

As the ninjas scrambled to recover, Yoruki turned to Nawaki. "You’re certain this is Sasori’s work?"

Nawaki nodded. "There’s no doubt. Minato and my sister were concerned he might target Konoha during the war, but his whereabouts were unknown—until now."

Yoruki’s gaze hardened. "Sasori... the rogue Sand ninja whose parents were killed by Minato and Sakumo."

Chapter 498: Crisis

"It must be him," Nawaki said, his voice low and tense.

The unusual scent lingering in the air had unsettled him earlier, but now it all made sense. As the younger brother of the greatest medical ninja in the world, Nawaki had picked up an uncanny ability to sense abnormalities. Though he didn’t practice medical ninjutsu himself, years of exposure to Tsunade’s teachings had given him a keener sense of danger than most.

The name "Sasori of the Red Sand" carried with it a reputation for deadly precision and ingenuity, especially in the use of poisons. Nawaki’s memories flashed back to the battle where Sasori’s father met his end, a pivotal moment that marked the rogue ninja’s descent into hatred and vengeance.

At the border of the Land of Hot Springs, Sasori had once attempted to ambush Kakashi and Minato. But faced with the might of the Yellow Flash, he was utterly outclassed. Only through desperate measures had Sasori managed to escape with his life.

"You mean to say your sister created an antidote for Sasori’s poison without ever obtaining a sample of it?" Fugaku Uchiha’s voice betrayed both disbelief and grudging admiration.

Nawaki smirked faintly. "My sister’s mastery of medical ninjutsu is unmatched in the ninja world," he replied, though his expression soon turned serious. "However, this antidote isn’t perfect. It’s a general countermeasure, not specifically tailored to Sasori’s toxins. Its efficacy may be limited."

Fugaku frowned but said nothing, his Sharingan glowing ominously. He scanned the battlefield ahead, where Kirigakure forces were advancing, their gas masks confirming the use of airborne poison. The inland wind carried the toxins directly toward Konoha’s camp, accelerating their spread.

Despite the rising tension, Fugaku quickly composed himself. "If Sasori is nearby, we can’t afford to let him escape. But for now, we must focus on repelling the Mist forces."

Yoruki Uchiha’s voice was cold and filled with murderous intent. "He’ll pay for this. I’ll make sure of it." His scarlet Sharingan spun menacingly, reflecting his resolve.

Within Konoha’s camp, the distribution of antidote pills continued at a frantic pace. Despite Tsunade’s foresight, the ninjas who had ingested the antidote were still far from peak condition. It would take time for the medicine to take full effect, leaving the army weakened and vulnerable.

"We can only muster 50% of our combat power," Nawaki admitted grimly. "Retreat isn’t an option, and facing the enemy head-on in this state is nearly suicidal. But we have no choice."

Fugaku gritted his teeth, unsheathing his blade. "Anyone who can stand, follow me!" he commanded.

Behind him, a hundred ninjas rose to their feet. Many of them trembled from lingering poison effects, but determination burned in their eyes. Among them were Shikaku Nara, Choza Akimichi, and other seasoned warriors who had prioritized distributing antidotes to Konoha’s elite fighters.

As the Kirigakure army drew closer, Fugaku led the hundred-strong force into battle.

At the forefront of the Kirigakure forces, Terumi Mei’s expression darkened as she observed the approaching Konoha soldiers. According to Sasori’s plan, the enemy should have been incapacitated by now. While the majority of the Konoha army was indeed paralyzed, the sight of a determined vanguard advancing to meet her forces was unexpected.

"Impressive," Terumi muttered, though a grim smile tugged at her lips. "But it won’t be enough."

From the rear, Nawaki stepped forward, forming hand seals with practiced ease.

"Water Style: Great Waterfall Technique!"

A massive torrent of water surged forward, crashing toward the Kirigakure troops like a tidal wave.

Yet Nawaki frowned. "This isn’t even half the scale I can usually achieve," he muttered. The effects of the poison lingered, limiting his chakra reserves.

Biwa Juzo, one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, chuckled as he watched the weakened jutsu approach. "They’re struggling," he said, hefting his massive Executioner’s Blade onto his shoulder.

Nawaki didn’t stop. He formed another set of hand seals.

"Water Style: Water Spike Shark Technique!"

The water from the Great Waterfall Technique coalesced into dozens of ferocious sharks, each one snapping and tearing toward the Mist forces. But even this jutsu was a shadow of its usual power, and Nawaki’s frustration was palpable.

The Seven Ninja Swordsmen moved swiftly, cutting down the water sharks with ease. Their blades flashed through the air, dispelling Nawaki’s attack before it could reach their comrades.

As the battle lines closed, Fugaku observed the Mist ninjas’ behavior closely. Their reliance on masks limited their ability to perform ninjutsu, forcing them to rely on weapons and close combat. This realization brought a glimmer of hope to the Konoha side.

"They can’t use large-scale ninjutsu while wearing those masks," Fugaku murmured. "That’s the break we need."

Uchiha Yoruki surged forward, his katana blazing with flames. He was the fastest among the Konoha forces, and in a flash, he appeared before Kushimaru Kuriarare, one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.

"Your speed isn’t what it used to be," Kushimaru taunted, dodging Yoruki’s strike with ease.

Yoruki’s blade missed its mark, and before he could recover, Biwa Juzo’s massive Executioner’s Blade came swinging toward him.

Clang!

Yoruki parried the attack, but the force behind it sent him skidding backward. His arms trembled from the impact, the effects of the poison still sapping his strength.

Seeing their comrade in danger, Fugaku and Nawaki rushed to his aid. Together, they clashed with the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, their combined efforts barely holding the line.

Despite their weakened state, the Konoha forces fought with unrelenting determination. The antidotes began to take effect, slowly restoring the ninjas’ strength.

Yoruki, regaining his composure, unleashed a flurry of strikes. Flames erupted from his blade, transforming into a whirlwind of fiery slashes.

"Uchiha Style: Blazing Flame Dance!"

Chapter 499: Between Life and Death

The battlefield was a mosaic of fire and blood. Blazing flames erupted from Uchiha Yoruki’s blade, carving intricate patterns into the air. The fiery arcs shimmered brilliantly, almost mesmerizing, yet their beauty masked the deadly intent behind each strike.

Under normal circumstances, this level of swordsmanship would have forced even the most seasoned warriors to retreat. But Biwa Juzo and Kushimaru Kuriarare, hardened members of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, were unyielding. They recognized that Yoruki’s strikes, though fierce, lacked their usual power. His chakra reserves were still depleted, and his body bore the strain of battle.

"He’s strong, but not strong enough," Juzo sneered, his grotesque face splitting into a feral grin. He licked his lips, savoring the challenge before him. With a guttural laugh, he hefted his massive beheading sword, meeting Yoruki’s fiery slashes head-on.

"Ding! Ding!"
The clash of blades sent sparks flying in every direction. The heat from Yoruki’s flames made the air shimmer, but Juzo’s monstrous strength kept him steady.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Kushimaru hurled his long needle-like blade. Its thin profile and incredible speed made it nearly invisible as it sliced through the air toward Yoruki.

"Swish!"
Yoruki’s Sharingan caught the attack just in time. His scarlet eyes spun rapidly, analyzing the needle’s trajectory. He twisted his body to avoid a fatal hit, but the wire attached to the needle lashed across the back of his hand, leaving a deep, stinging cut. Blood dripped onto the charred ground.

Gritting his teeth, Yoruki ignored the pain. His eyes darted across the battlefield, assessing the situation. The Konoha forces were struggling. Fugaku, Shikaku, and the others were locked in desperate combat against the remaining five members of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen. Each clash pushed them closer to their limits.

Suddenly, the battlefield grew more chaotic as two new combatants entered the fray.

Terumi Ryuunosuke and Hozuki Haoyu of Kirigakure surged forward, their presence sending ripples of tension through Konoha’s ranks.

Terumi’s gaze locked onto Fugaku, her movements fluid and precise. Fugaku met her head-on, his Sharingan blazing with intensity. Normally, they would have been evenly matched, but the effects of the poison left Fugaku at a disadvantage. After a brief exchange, Terumi’s strikes broke through his defense, sending him skidding backward.

"Heh, it seems you’re not in the best condition," Terumi taunted, her voice dripping with mockery.

Fugaku’s eyes burned with frustration. Normally reserved, he couldn’t suppress the anger boiling within him. "There’s no pride in relying on a rogue ninja from another nation to gain the upper hand!" he spat, his voice laced with contempt.

Ignoring her taunts, Fugaku formed a series of hand seals.

"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"

A barrage of fireballs roared toward Terumi, their intense heat distorting the air. Though diminished in size and power, the flames forced her to retreat, creating a temporary buffer.

As the battle raged on, Konoha’s forces found themselves increasingly overwhelmed. The hundred elite ninjas who had initially held the line were nearing exhaustion. Their chakra reserves, already stretched thin, began to wane.

Just as the line threatened to break, reinforcements arrived from the rear. Hundreds of Konoha ninjas, still recovering from the effects of Sasori’s poison, charged forward with renewed determination.

"Don’t let them recover!" Terumi shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

The Kirigakure forces responded with relentless aggression. The Mist ninjas, embodying the brutal ethos of the Blood Mist Village, surged forward with reckless abandon. They stepped over the bodies of their fallen comrades, their eyes burning with a deadly resolve.

The battle descended into brutal, close-quarters combat. The Konoha ninjas, though skilled, struggled to hold their ground against the sheer ferocity of the Mist’s assault.

Amid the chaos, Shisui Uchiha darted through the battlefield. His movements were a blur, his small frame allowing him to evade attacks with uncanny agility. But even his remarkable speed couldn’t keep him unscathed. Cuts and bruises littered his body, blood staining his clothes.

His eyes, once black, glowed with the crimson light of the Sharingan. A single magatama spun within them, a sign of his awakening amid the horrors of war. Despite his injuries, Shisui fought on, his determination unyielding.

Uchiha Yoruki’s blade moved with a ferocity that matched his burning rage. Each strike sent waves of heat rippling through the air, forcing Juzo and Kushimaru to stay on the defensive. Injuries littered Yoruki’s body, but he fought as though pain meant nothing.

"Is he using sheer willpower to push himself beyond his limits?" Juzo muttered, his tone a mix of frustration and respect.

Kushimaru nodded grimly. "He’s getting faster. We had the upper hand, but now..."

Yoruki’s blade ignited with a renewed ferocity, flames swirling around him like a blazing inferno.

"Uchiha Style: Blazing Flame Dance!"

The attack erupted in a storm of fiery slashes, forcing Juzo and Kushimaru to retreat. Even Juzo’s massive sword began to crack under the relentless onslaught.

Just as Yoruki prepared to strike again, a shadow darted toward him. Jinpachi Munashi, wielding the explosive blade Shibuki, grinned wickedly as he closed in.

"Die!" Jinpachi roared, his blade glowing with an ominous red light.

"Swish!"
Shikaku extended his shadow in a desperate attempt to stop Jinpachi, but his depleted chakra limited its reach.

"Yoruki!" Choza Akimichi bellowed, his voice filled with urgency. But Yoruki, fully focused on his assault, didn’t hear him.

"Bang!"
The explosive blade detonated, sending shockwaves rippling across the battlefield.

When the smoke cleared, a bloodied figure stood between Jinpachi and Yoruki.

It was Uchiha Yoru.

His body was broken, his armor shattered, and blood poured from his wounds. Yet his face bore a faint, peaceful smile.

"Arrogant boy," Yoru rasped, his voice weak but steady. "You’re always so reckless."

Chapter 500: Sword!

"You are always so reckless!"

The light, feeble words felt like nails piercing into Uchiha Yoruki’s heart, driving deeper with each syllable. Before him, Uchiha Yoru had used his body to shield against the devastating blast of the explosive sword. The force of the detonation had shattered numerous bones and ruptured vital organs, leaving no room for survival. Even Tsunade’s medical expertise would be powerless to save him now.

Uchiha Yoru's pupils slowly dilated, his body crumpling lifelessly to the ground.

Jinpachi Munashi, momentarily stunned by the scene, shifted his gaze to Uchiha Yoruki. A flicker of annoyance crept into his eyes as he observed the young Uchiha. Biwa Juzo and Kushimaru Kuriarare, injured from Yoruki’s earlier assault, were still recovering. Alone, Jinpachi knew he stood no chance against this enraged adversary.

“Such a nuisance,” he spat bitterly, casting a disdainful glance at Uchiha Yoru’s fallen form.

But before he could utter another word, an overwhelming, icy chill swept over him.

Swish!

In the blink of an eye, Uchiha Yoruki appeared before him, his blade aflame, the fire raging uncontrollably as if mirroring the fury in his heart.

"You must die!"

Yoruki’s voice roared like a wounded beast, hoarse yet filled with an unbridled ferocity that sent shivers through those who heard it. His crimson Sharingan spun wildly, the three magatama within his eyes rotating at an unnatural speed.

Boom!

Jinpachi Munashi instinctively raised his sword to block, only to be sent flying nearly ten meters from the sheer force of Yoruki’s strike. His arms trembled violently from the impact, struggling to hold his weapon steady.

"What monstrous strength! What’s happening to this kid?" Jinpachi muttered, shaken.

Before he could regain his footing, Yoruki charged again, his strikes relentless. The air around him seemed to crackle with his murderous intent.

From a distance, Fugaku and the others took in the scene. Their eyes widened as they noticed Uchiha Yoru’s twisted, lifeless body. The realization struck hard—this was Yoruki’s father.

“Yoruki…” Fugaku whispered, his heart heavy. He understood the madness driving the boy now.

Back on the battlefield, Jinpachi was being pushed back, his defensive stance barely holding against Yoruki’s vicious onslaught. For the first time, fear clouded his thoughts.

As if in response to his plight, two figures darted forward. Biwa Juzo and Kushimaru Kuriarare, though injured, joined the fray, surrounding Yoruki. Together, the three aimed to subdue him.

Even so, Yoruki’s attacks continued with a ferocity that left them reeling. Yet, as Biwa Juzo had predicted, with their combined efforts, the tide began to shift. Yoruki could no longer overwhelm them with sheer force.

Fugaku and the other Konoha ninjas watched in growing despair. Yoruki, consumed by rage, showed no signs of slowing down. If they lost him, the battle—and the war—would surely be lost.

Amidst the chaos, Konoha ninjas fell one after another. Yoruki, entangled by the three enemies, still fought with maddening intensity. His once-handsome face twisted into something grotesque, distorted by anguish and fury. The rotation of his Sharingan’s magatama grew faster and faster, an ominous sign of something brewing within him.

“Father!” Yoruki’s anguished scream echoed across the battlefield. His desperation reached a breaking point, and in that moment, his spinning magatama began to shift, linking together.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

With a roar, Yoruki unleashed a feral attack that forced his three opponents to retreat momentarily.

Swish!

As he stepped back, his crimson eyes transformed. The three magatama vanished, replaced by an intricate pattern of interwoven black flames. The design was mesmerizing—beautiful yet terrifying in its intensity.

When the change completed, Yoruki, though still clouded by rage, felt an unfamiliar surge of power coursing through him. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. A newfound strength pulsed within his veins, commanding his attention.

But there was no time to dwell on it. His focus returned to his enemies, and with a burst of speed, he charged once more.

Yoruki’s blade moved like lightning, its fiery edge carving through the air.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Jinpachi and his comrades barely managed to block the successive strikes. However, amidst the chaos of clashing steel, a hidden blade of fire slipped through their defenses, cutting across them.

The three fell back, clutching fresh wounds.

“This kid… his speed, his movements—they’ve changed!” Jinpachi muttered, shaken by Yoruki’s newfound agility and precision.

Kushimaru Kuriarare squinted at Yoruki, his tone grim. “Look at his Sharingan. Am I imagining things, or has it transformed?”

Hearing this, Jinpachi and Biwa Juzo turned their attention to Yoruki’s eyes. Their breath hitched as they noticed the intricate flame patterns replacing the familiar magatama.

“What… what kind of eyes are those?” Juzo murmured, dread creeping into his voice.

Yoruki, seemingly oblivious to their fear, reached up and pressed a hand to his left eye. “This power…” he muttered, his voice almost reverent.

Slowly, his fingers parted, revealing the full brilliance of his transformed Sharingan. A surge of red chakra erupted from his left eye, coalescing into a solid, tangible form.

Before him materialized a massive red sword, its blade several meters long and adorned with flame-like shapes. It hovered ominously, pulsating with raw, destructive energy.

“Rekka no Ken[Blazing Fire Sword],” Yoruki whispered, his voice carrying an eerie calm.

His gaze locked onto Jinpachi and the others. Blood trickled from his left eye, a sign of the immense strain his new power exacted. But Yoruki seemed unfazed, his focus unyielding.

Zheng!

The crimson blade quivered, then shot forward at blinding speed. Jinpachi and his comrades barely had time to react.

Juzo stepped forward, wielding his beheading sword in a desperate attempt to intercept the strike.

Clang!

The weapons collided. For a brief moment, there was a stalemate. But then, with an audible crack, Juzo’s blade shattered. The pieces fell like rain, his once-mighty weapon reduced to fragments.

Juzo stared in disbelief. His hands, which had gripped the sword moments ago, were now severed at the wrists. Yet, curiously, there was no pain