Naruto: The Teaching System - 280

Chapter 280: Iwagakure's surrender

Facing Sawada’s relentless dive, Ōnoki reacted on pure instinct. His hands crossed in front of his chest as the earth-nature chakra hardened in a rush.

“Earth Release: Hardening Technique!”

The technique had barely formed when Sawada’s Heavenly Foot crashed down on his crossed forearms.

A sharp crack rang out, the sound of bone yielding. The stone armor on Ōnoki’s arms shattered, and the force behind the kick ignored the Hardening Technique entirely. It punched straight through and slammed into his chest.

Blood sprayed from his mouth. Ōnoki’s body shot toward the ground like a cannonball, a red arc trailing through the air behind him.

He hit with a rolling boom. His body tumbled across the earth like a runaway wheel, carving cracks wherever he bounced. The ground split and spiderwebbed in his wake.

When he finally skidded to a stop, Ōnoki coughed up another mouthful of blood. The impact made it feel like all his organs had been knocked out of place. Worse, his back screamed with a blinding pain that nearly drove him into unconsciousness. His old waist was not built for this.

“Old man, what happened to all that swagger?” Sawada pressed his advantage without mercy. Lightning flared in his grip as he kicked off the ground, streaking straight for Ōnoki.

“Lightning Release: Lightning Cutter!”

His speed crossed the field like a bolt, bearing down on the Tsuchikage.

“Don’t underestimate a Kage,” Ōnoki growled through his pain.

“Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique!”

A tiny Dust Release cube flashed into existence, but it shot forward faster than any of his previous blasts, streaking straight for Sawada.

Sawada’s eyes narrowed. The old man had used Sawada’s own speed against him, condensing Dust Release small and tight to accelerate the shot and erase the gap between them. For one critical instant, not even Sawada could react.

A cold spike of danger slammed into him, every hair on his body standing on end. Lightning-nature chakra flooded his legs, overclocking his muscles.

Sparks shrieked. His body blurred into a blue streak and vanished just as the Dust Release closed in.

The air sizzled with a bitter scent, and Sawada reappeared some distance away, boots skidding across the ground.

He exhaled hard and glanced at his shoulder. Even at top speed, he hadn’t gotten away clean. The side of his shoulder and the sleeve over it had been sliced away, leaving bare white bone exposed. A faint burning pain radiated from the wound.

The next heartbeat, the ugly gash began to knit itself back together. Flesh crawled over bone, skin followed, leaving only a faint red line.

“Yeah. Got a little full of myself,” Sawada muttered, rubbing his newly healed shoulder and looking back at Ōnoki. No question—anyone who made it to Kage, even backed into a corner, could throw back something most shinobi wouldn’t survive.

“Heh… hahahahaha! As expected,” Ōnoki said, laughter breaking through his ragged breathing. “I am Ōnoki of Both Scales, Third Tsuchikage of Iwagakure. On behalf of Iwagakure… I surrender.”

He wrapped chakra around his throat and sent his voice rolling across the battlefield.

The moment the words landed, the Five-Tails, which had been trading blows with Sage Mode Jiraiya and Gamabunta, lashed its tails once. In the blink of an eye, its colossal form shrank back into Han, who bolted for Ōnoki’s position.

“What the…” Jiraiya stared, stunned by how quickly the retreat had come. Even Gamabunta lagged a moment behind.

“What’s going on?” Gamabunta blinked, baffled.

“The old man just surrendered, you idiot,” Shima snapped, cracking Gamabunta across the head. The senjutsu-laced slap almost sent him straight to the Pure Land. Smoke burst up as his massive body vanished from the field.

Jiraiya drifted down on weakening legs, swallowing hard. He’d seen it clearly. Gamabunta hadn’t dismissed himself—he’d blacked out and been yanked back to Mount Myoboku. Terrifying. She was scarier than Tsunade.

“Jiraiya-boy, since it’s over, we’ll head back,” Fukasaku said, wiping sweat from his brow.

In the next instant, both elders vanished from Jiraiya’s shoulders.

Sage Mode dropped, and pain rushed in everywhere at once. Jiraiya hissed. He’d taken that incomplete Tailed Beast Bomb from the Five-Tails head-on. If the two elders hadn’t blunted some of it with senjutsu, he would already be stardust.

No time to rest. There was something more important to deal with.

He ran as fast as his aching legs allowed toward where Sawada and Ōnoki faced each other. As soon as he caught sight of Sawada’s expression, his heart lurched and his feet moved on their own.

“Sawada! Don’t!” Jiraiya launched like a giant frog and crashed onto him, wrapping his arms and legs around him to pin his limbs.

“Sawada, stop! You have to stop. The Tsuchikage surrendered. If you keep going, the Daimyo will come down on Konoha hard.”

Jiraiya’s smile was all bitterness. What was with kids these days? Their tempers were too hot.

“Jiraiya-senpai, let go! I’m killing this fossil!” Sawada snarled. The damned old man had pulled a dirty trick, then immediately surrendered and even had the gall to say “Ah, you were a step too slow” as if nothing had happened.

“Easy, easy. Don’t pick a fight with someone already half in the grave,” Jiraiya said. He understood perfectly. Anyone who’d nearly been killed by a cheap shot one second, only for the enemy to throw up their hands the next, would be out for blood. Even he would want to grind them to dust.

But this time, they really couldn’t.

If Ōnoki hadn’t surrendered, it would be one thing. But he had. If Sawada struck now, there would be consequences. The Daimyo would be the first problem. And the other Kage would not stand by.

For a Kage to throw away their pride and surrender, then be killed anyway—that was something none of them would accept.

“Heh. Youth,” Ōnoki said with a derisive chuckle. “One of the Legendary Sannin, not even respected by his juniors. Might as well die early.”

“You crusty old—” Jiraiya’s temper detonated. Fire lit his eyes, and he hurled a string of colorful curses at the Tsuchikage.

Watching Jiraiya lose it so completely made Ōnoki feel an unreasonably deep satisfaction. So what if he had conceded? He could still find ways to drive Konoha mad. And they couldn’t lay a finger on him for it. By that measure, he’d won.

This time, Sawada was the one holding Jiraiya back, arms locked around him as he muttered darkly, “Easy, easy. Don’t make things harder for an old man who just lost his son.”