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🕑 Added 2025-05-18 22:36:55 +0000 UTCChapter 166: One of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen—Yuki Haku
To secure their loyalty, Yoru offered a simple deal:
"Survive this war, and you’ll be recognized as chūnin of Kirigakure—with all the benefits that come with it."
For these rogue shinobi, a stable position within a major village was everything. Having endured the harsh life of wandering, they cherished security more than most.
So even as training grew brutal, only a handful quit, taking their agreed-upon pay and leaving.
Meanwhile…
The armies of Iwagakure and Sunagakure had arrived at the Land of Fire’s coastal ports, crossing the ruins of Uzushiogakure toward the Land of Water.
"Kirigakure’s reign ends here. Their resources will be ours!"
On one of Iwa’s transport ships, Kurotsuchi—future Fourth Tsuchikage—grinned with ambition.
Elsewhere, an elderly woman stood at the bow of a Suna vessel, her voice barely a whisper against the waves.
"Youth always challenges authority… but the world isn’t so simple. Overreach, and you’ll pay the price."
She was Chiyo—Suna’s legendary puppet master and advisor. A formidable opponent.
Opportunists Emerge
"That fool Yoru… He kidnapped the Daimyō, tried to abolish the feudal system—and crossed a line all Five Great Nations agree on!"
The leader of the Land of Rainbows (Kō no Kuni) scoffed, rallying his forces.
"Now, with four great villages bearing down on him, there’s no escape. This is our chance—Rainbow Country will rise as the next superpower!"
Back in the Land of Water, imprisoned within Aoryū Town’s cells, the Daimyō cackled.
"Yoru… Your death will be my victory. Every traitor will learn the cost of defiance!"
The Five Daimyōs had one unbreakable rule: No one could threaten their sovereignty. Any who tried—like Yoru—faced united annihilation.
The Daimyō saw no path to victory for Kirigakure.
Two Days Later
"Haku, you’ve surpassed my expectations."
Yoru’s water clone sheathed its blade, impressed.
"Only because of your guidance, Lord Yoru. I feel… transformed."
Haku bowed, his fox mask hiding a grateful smile. With his slender frame and grace, few would guess he was male.
Nearby, Kimimaro panted heavily as another clone addressed him.
"And you, Kimimaro—your progress is even more astounding."
"Of course. I refuse to hold you back, my lord."
Though his face remained stoic, pride flickered in his eyes.
A Promise Kept
As the clones dispersed, Yoru approached.
"Kimimaro… Time to honor my word."
Placing a hand on Kimimaro’s forehead, Yoru focused.
"Extract stats. Reinforce Stamina to jōnin level."
The system’s mechanical voice responded:
"Commencing reinforcement. Cost: 50,000 points."
Kimimaro shuddered as pure energy surged through him—muscles, veins, and chakra pathways burning with power.
Two minutes later, the sensation faded.
"Lord Yoru… What was that?"
Kimimaro flexed his hands, awed by the raw strength humming within him.
"A kekkei genkai of sorts. Its limits are… strict."
Yoru exhaled—reinforcing others drained him more than expected.
"Haku! Spar with me!"
Kimimaro turned, bones erupting from his skin like a demon’s armor.
"Gladly!"
Haku raised Sewing Needle, bracing as Kimimaro lunged.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Even with a legendary sword, Haku strained to keep up. Kimimaro moved with terrifying fluidity—every strike heavier, faster, deadlier.
"This power…!"
Kimimaro reveled in it. For the first time, his body felt perfect.
Chapter 167: The Best-Laid Plans
"Dance of the Camellia!"
"Dance of the Willow!"
"Dance of the Larch!"
Kimimaro moved like a war god—his speed, power, destructive force, and endurance all reaching terrifying new heights.
In the end, Haku had no choice but to surrender.
"You're too strong, Kimimaro. I’m no match for you now." Haku admitted, admiration in his voice.
And yet, just one day ago, he had fought Kimimaro to a standstill with his Needle Blade.
That alone spoke volumes about the boost Yoru had given Kimimaro.
"What an overpowered kekkei genkai," Yagura mused, clapping slowly. "No wonder you’re this strong at such a young age. If Kirigakure survives this war, it won’t be long before we dominate the shinobi world."
Yoru narrowed his eyes at Yagura. "That depends on how this battle goes. Don’t make me regret trusting you."
Yagura smirked. "Relax. As long as you keep your word, I won’t embarrass you."
Just then, Yugito and a squad of ANBU scouts approached.
"The Suna forces are fifty miles out. Yoru, it’s time."
Yoru’s expression hardened. "Positions, everyone."
The past two days had been a whirlwind.
Training Kimimaro and Haku.
Overseeing troop drills.
Deploying reconnaissance teams.
Fortifying defenses.
Managing supply lines.
Assigning roles.
Explaining tactics.
He hadn’t slept more than a few hours—never in his life had he pushed himself this hard.
He’d even prepared chakra storage scrolls (though they’d expire in three days, a far cry from Tsunade’s Yin Seal).
And now… the real test had arrived.
Twenty miles offshore, at the edge of the Daimyō Archipelago, the joint Kirigakure-Nukenin forces stood ready.
Mizukage Mei Terumī led the defense.
Their intel had confirmed Iwagakure’s approach.
The ocean might seem endless, but currents, reefs, and floating islands forced ships into predictable routes.
And Iwa’s path led here.
"Come at us, Iwagakure." Mei clenched her fists.
Since Yoru’s enhancements, she was no longer the rookie Kage she’d once been.
Now, she was Mizukage Mei Terumī—stronger, sharper, and ready.
Meanwhile, on Yoru’s front…
"Sunagakure, bring it on."
He stood atop the waves, a fleet of warships behind him, their cannons trained on the horizon.
Beneath him, Yagura—fully transformed into the Three-Tails—lurked in the depths.
In the water, the Sanbi was unstoppable.
That was why Yoru had been so confident.
Then—black dots appeared on the horizon.
Ships. More and more of them.
But when the banners came into view…
"This wasn’t the plan."
Yoru froze.
The fleet wasn’t Suna’s.
It was Iwa’s.
On the opposite front, Mei’s face paled as Sunagakure’s sails emerged instead.
"Damn it—Yoru’s in trouble!"
Facing Suna with a skeleton crew was already suicidal.
But now? He was up against Iwagakure.
There was no time to redirect forces.
All she could do was pray.
Back with Yoru…
"Well, well. Looks like your intel was off." Yugito sighed. "Fighting alongside you is always a gamble. Might cost me my life this time."
Even she felt the weight of the situation.
Yoru exhaled. "Plans change. Guess the heavens are testing me."
A true warrior’s path was never smooth.
He signaled his troops. "Ready yourselves. We fight."
Haku gripped his Needle Blade, hands trembling slightly.
Even he couldn’t stay calm.
Who could?
1,000 vs. 10,000.
Only Yoru stood unshaken.
Across the waves, Iwa’s jeers rang out:
"Hah! Kirigakure really sent this many? Bold—or just stupid?"
"If they want to die, we’ll oblige!"
A few, though, sounded almost impressed:
"Gotta admit—figuring out our landing spot? Not bad."
Chapter 168: A Defiant Formation—1,000 vs. 10,000
"So what if they predicted our move? A mere thousand soldiers can’t hold us back for long—thirty minutes at most!"
Someone scoffed in response, dripping with disdain: "Hah! You’re giving them too much credit. Ten minutes, tops. Hell, they might not even last that long! A thousand men? That’s barely an appetizer for us!"
The numbers didn’t lie. Ten thousand against one thousand? This was a slaughter waiting to happen.
The Iwagakure fleet anchored, and from the lead ship, a gravelly voice rang out: "Yoru… I’ve heard your name for years. Finally meeting you in person—I must say, you’re more seasoned than I expected."
The speaker was a squat old man with a bulbous, drink-reddened nose. Despite his age, his voice boomed with vigor, his chakra oppressive. None other than the Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki of the Two Scales—one of the longest-lived shinobi in history.
"Third Tsuchikage. Our first meeting.
You look younger than I imagined. Let’s hope your age hasn’t dulled your skills."
Yoru’s greeting was polite, but his words carried a blade’s edge.
"Rest assured, boy—I’ve got more than enough strength to crush you. My health’s just fine!" Ōnoki levitated, peering down at him. "I’d heard you were a prodigy, but this? A pitiful force of 1,500 against my 10,000? You’re a mantis trying to stop a chariot. Do you really think you can win? Or do you take Iwagakure for a band of amateurs?"
Calm. Confident. As if stating the obvious.
And why wouldn’t he be? Their advantage was overwhelming. Unshakable.
"Aren’t you?" Yoru smirked, unfazed. "Why waste troops on a mob of incompetents?"
Behind his back, his hands flashed the signal: Prepare to engage.
"Youthful arrogance. You won’t yield until you’re broken, will you?" Ōnoki’s hands clasped. "Fine. Let’s see how long your ‘army’ lasts. Don’t disappoint me.
Iwagakure—ATTACK!"
With that roar, the Stone shinobi surged forward like ravenous wolves. Ōnoki’s voice cut through the chaos:
"Dust Release: Atomic Dismantling Jutsu!"
A wave of annihilating light erupted, carving a void through the air—and swallowing Yoru whole. Where he’d stood, only emptiness remained. Even the sea itself had been erased.
"Hah! So much for ‘Yoru the Pale Blade.’
Couldn’t even survive one Dust Release! All hype, no substance!"
"Nah, he was strong… just unlucky enough to face the Tsuchikage."
"Absolute power leaves no room for struggle."
The Iwa forces jeered—until a cold voice sliced through their triumph:
"Bijūdama."
A cataclysmic orb of energy screamed toward them.
"NO—!"
The blast erupted in a thunderous mushroom cloud, waves churning as dozens were vaporized. Panic tore through their ranks.
From the smoke, Yugito’s voice snarled in full Nibi form: "Who’s laughing now, Iwa scum?"
"IT’S THE TWO-TAILS!"
"SCATTER!
"WHERE’S LADY RŌSHI?!"
Yoru’s command boomed from Yugito’s back: "Advance!"
Then, grinning at Ōnoki, he raised a hand skyward. "Pay attention to the weather, old man."
"Lightning Release: Stormcall Array!"
Dark clouds convulsed. A pillar of lightning thicker than a barrel crashed down—
Ōnoki’s eyes widened. "Impossible! That speed… that power—?!"
The bolt struck before he could react.
"TSUCHIKAGE-SAMA!" The Iwa forces screamed.
"Silence!" A new voice barked. A broad-shouldered man with a rust-red beard stepped forward, his presence steadying the troops. "Ōnoki’s not some amateur. He’s fine."
"It’s Lord Rōshi! We’re saved—he can handle the Two-Tails!"
Rōshi—the Four-Tails’ Jinchūriki—cracked his knuckles. "Let’s see what you’ve got, Nibi. Don’t disappoint me."
His body erupted into the colossal form of the Four-Tails: Son Gokū.
But before the battle could ignite—
The sea beneath the Iwa fleet heaved.
"What the—?! The water’s… rising?!"
A shadow swelled beneath the ships, vast and primal.
Chapter 169: Ōnoki Wants to Vomit Blood
"Wait… this chakra… could it be…?!"
As Ōnoki and Rōshi sensed the violent, rampaging energy, an ominous feeling gripped them.
Then, as if realizing something, they shouted in panic: "Move! Get out of the way—that’s a Tailed Beast Bomb!!"
"What?!"
"A Tailed Beast Bomb?!"
The Iwa-nin were stunned—then instantly thrown into chaos, abandoning their ships in a desperate scramble to escape.
"Heh… too late, everyone."
Yoru’s voice echoed mockingly through the air. "Lightning Release: Thunderfall—activate!"
BOOM!
A deafening explosion of thunder erupted, shaking the very souls of those present. Then, like a torrential downpour, bolts of lightning rained down, turning the area where the Iwa-nin stood into a sea of electricity.
Even Yugito, the Two-Tails’ jinchūriki, quickly retreated, unwilling to face the onslaught.
"Aaaah!!"
"NO—!!"
Screams of agony filled the air—terror, despair, a scene straight out of hell unfolding before Ōnoki’s eyes. Even nearby Iwa-nin were caught in the spreading lightning, collapsing onto the water with pained grunts.
"You… BASTARD!!"
Ōnoki’s eyes burned with rage as he watched his ships shatter into splinters, his men crushed like ants beneath the storm.
"Earth Release: Rock Golem—!"
He formed hand seals at blinding speed, preparing to summon a defensive barrier to protect his forces.
But Yoru wasn’t about to let him.
CRACK!
Thick bolts of lightning shot toward Ōnoki, forcing him to abandon his technique and retreat in frustration.
"ROAR!!"
Even the Four-Tails, encased in its monstrous form, howled in pain as the lightning struck, its hide charred black, fist-sized droplets of blood splashing into the sea.
But the real devastation came from below.
BOOOOM!!
The Tailed Beast Bomb erupted from the depths, detonating the moment the lightning struck. The sheer force made even Yoru’s heart skip a beat.
"Damn… as expected of Yagura, a perfect jinchūriki. This is way more terrifying than when the Three-Tails uses it alone."
"Barrier Ninjutsu: Six Pillar Flame Wall!"
He slammed his hands onto the water’s surface, conjuring a blazing crimson barrier to shield his allies.
Meanwhile, Ōnoki—face twisted in fury—forced out another technique:
"Earth Release: Rock Golem Technique!"
A massive stone guardian emerged, sheltering a handful of Iwa-nin. He would’ve protected more, but time wasn’t on his side.
The explosion unleashed hell.
Countless Iwa-nin were vaporized instantly, not even ashes remaining. The blast lit up the ocean for kilometers, turning night into day—then into a hellish crimson as the sea itself seemed to boil, water evaporating in an instant.
The shockwave roared like thunder, rattling bones and leaving ears ringing. Some coughed up blood, eardrums shattered. Then—*CRASH!*—a tsunami, towering dozens of meters high, came crashing down, sweeping away everything in its path.
Ōnoki’s breath turned ragged, his vision tinged with red.
This… was a massacre.
The storm raged for half a minute before finally subsiding. The devastation was so immense that even Mei Terumī, far from the battlefield, could feel the tremors.
When the chaos cleared, only Yoru’s forces remained unscathed.
The rest of the sea was littered with wreckage—shattered wood, half-drowned Iwa-nin (some alive, most not), and scattered supply crates.
Oh, and the crumbling remains of a giant stone golem.
CRACK!
The golem shattered, its fragments sinking into the depths as Ōnoki and the few he’d saved reappeared.
Survivors staggered to their feet—about six thousand in total, many wounded.
The rest?
Gone.
Some reduced to charred husks. Others barely clinging to life, groaning in agony. A few struggled to stand, but they were in no condition to fight.
Ōnoki’s vision turned red.
"YO—RU—NA!!"
His voice was a guttural roar, saturated with killing intent. His heart bled.
Three thousand.
Three thousand lives lost in an instant. The cost was unbearable.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
When he first saw Yoru’s mere thousand troops, he’d been confident—no, arrogant. He’d assumed victory was guaranteed, that crushing the upstart would be effortless.
But reality had slapped him hard.
Underestimating Yoru had cost him dearly.
Three thousand warriors—gone.
The weight of it nearly made him collapse.
"I’m right here, Ōnoki. No need to shout—I can hear you just fine."
Yoru smirked, casually flicking his ear as if bored. Then, turning to his forces—Kimimaro and the elite ANBU—he gave the order:
"Move out. Stick to the plan."
"Frontline teams—ninety squads, ten members each. Follow your captains."
"Long-range teams—five per squad. Focus on firepower support."
"Coordinate. Minimize casualties."
"As for me…" His gaze sharpened. "I’ll handle their heavy hitters—along with our two jinchūriki."
"And the Mist Assassination Unit? Stick to my water clones."
"Understood!"
With that, the battle began.
The moment Yoru gave the signal—*SPLASH!*—the ocean beneath Ōnoki’s feet erupted.
A monstrous, three-tailed turtle surged from the depths.
The Three-Tails.
"The Three-Tails?!"
"But how?! It’s supposed to be—"
Ōnoki’s voice choked with disbelief.
Chapter 170: You Know Nothing of My Power
It was common knowledge that the Three-Tails' Jinchūriki was the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura.
And Yagura had been overthrown and imprisoned by Mei Terumī and Yoru—his fate unknown.
By all logic, Yagura and Yoru should have been mortal enemies.
Yet here they were, fighting side by side.
This… was not part of the plan.
Things had taken a dangerous turn.
"Suiton: Mizu Bunshin no Jutsu!"
Yoru had no intention of explaining himself. In an instant, a hundred water clones materialized, a spectacle that left even seasoned shinobi breathless.
His true form blazed with chakra, the sheer pressure of it making the ocean tremble. The air itself grew thick, oppressive—as if the sea itself bowed to his will.
"With me!"
The clones barked the order, and the assassination squad surged forward without hesitation.
"OOOH!"
Fighting alongside their idol? There was no greater thrill.
The surviving Iwa-nin snarled in outrage. "You dare charge us with just a few hundred men?! Arrogant bastards—don’t look down on us!"
"Suiton: Hidden Mist Jutsu!"
The clones’ response was immediate. A thick, impenetrable fog swallowed the battlefield in seconds.
"Shit—it’s the Mist! Fall back!"
Panic spiked. Everyone knew—fighting Yoru in his mist was suicide.
"Retreat? Let’s see how fast you really are."
The clones’ voices echoed from the haze.
Some managed to escape—those on the edges, or lagging behind. But the moment they emerged, Kimimaro, Haku, and the vanguard were already upon them.
"Split them apart!"
From the long-range ships, explosions erupted. A barrage of explosive tags rained down.
BOOM! CRACK! KABOOM!
The rear lines of Iwa’s forces vanished in fire and shrapnel.
Ōnoki’s eyes narrowed. "This won’t stand." His hands flew into seals. "Doton: Weighted—"
"Suiton: Water Severing Wave!"
A hyper-pressurized jet of water shot from the sea below, forcing Ōnoki to twist mid-air. Even so, it grazed his chest, drawing blood.
"Tch. Sloppy, old man." Yoru closed the distance in a flash—sword already drawn.
"You’ll have to go through me first, brat!"
A molten fist the size of a boulder came crashing down—Son Gokū, the Four-Tails.
But Yoru didn’t flinch.
WHAM!
The Three-Tails’ colossal form rammed into Son Gokū, sending the ape-like Bijū skidding back. Yagura’s voice rumbled from within: "Your fight’s with me, Four-Tails!"
The distraction gave Ōnoki just enough time.
"Doton: Rock Fist!"
His right arm morphed into stone, swinging upward with crushing force—
"Doton: Weighted Rock Technique!"
—then multiplied its mass tenfold.
But Yoru wasn’t there.
At the last second, he pivoted, dodging the blow with eerie calm. His eyes locked onto Ōnoki’s.
"Genjutsu: Paralysis Jutsu."
Ōnoki’s body froze.
"Damn it—!"
Even as his mind screamed to move, his limbs refused. The Fourth Raikage might have fallen for this trick—but Ōnoki? He’d survived the age of Madara.
His arm jerked up instinctively—
SLASH!
Blood sprayed. The Tsuchikage hissed in pain, but the fatal strike had been diverted. A deep gash now ran down his forearm instead of his throat.
"A shame." Yoru frowned. "But not unexpected."
Lightning crackled along his blade. This next attack would finish it.
Ōnoki couldn’t dodge.
"Not so fast!"
Two figures lunged from behind—
A spiky-haired man (Gari, the Explosion Release user).
A broad-nosed giant (Akatsuchi, Ōnoki’s right-hand man).
"Got you now!"
Yoru didn’t even turn.
"You’re slow."
He vanished.
Faster than their eyes could track.
"Wha—?!"
By the time they whirled around, his voice was already at their backs.
"Looking the wrong way."
Their blood turned to ice.
"Suiton:—"
"DIE!"
A fist wreathed in rock came hurtling toward Yoru’s skull—
Kurotsuchi, the future Fourth Tsuchikage, had joined the fray.
