Swift, powerful, and with dazzling blade work…
Kazuki was staging a brutal performance—a vivid display of just how fragile the human body was and how easily life could be extinguished.
The so-called Jōnin were meant to be elite shinobi in their villages—the backbone of their nations, one in a hundred talents…
Even in the election of a Kage, they held real sway.
But on today's battlefield, Jōnin were no more than pigs led to slaughter, indistinguishable from Chūnin or Genin.
Because in front of Kazuki, all it took was a single blade, a single punch—each was an instant kill.
Shisui and Asuma stood frozen, watching Kazuki's massacre, eyes full of disbelief.
Wait a minute... Is Kazuki really that strong?
These two hadn't attended the battle briefing. They'd assumed Kazuki was serving as bait—luring enemies in so aerial forces or teammates could ambush them in a carefully orchestrated trap.
But who could've guessed? The usually calm, calculating, ever-strategic Kazuki was going with a 'brute force trumps all' approach today!
He really was planning to cleave through the entire ninja army alone...
"Hey, Asuma… you think my Body Flicker Technique will ever catch up to my brother's?" Shisui strained his eyes, the three tomoe of his Sharingan spinning desperately as he tried to follow Kazuki's movements. Finally, he sighed in defeat.
Asuma's face was blank. "I don't know. What I do know is that the two of us… are already useless to him."
"I was feeling all proud just because I mastered a few high-level Fire Release jutsu. You were smug about your new variation of the Body Flicker. And meanwhile, Kazuki's already tearing through the Allied Shinobi Forces on his own…"
"With our level of talent… how can we ever stand beside someone like him?"
Asuma sank into despair, dragging Shisui's mood down with him.
Yet both of them, despite their gloom, couldn't help but occasionally cheer with excitement at Kazuki's precision strikes—only to drop back into depression seconds later…
Caught in an endless cycle of highs and lows.
Meanwhile, in the midst of the Allied Shinobi Forces, Kazuki's slaughter continued.
Fear was creeping into everyone's heart.
From the moment the battle started, Kazuki's fists and blades had shredded countless enemies. And not once had he been struck.
How were they supposed to defeat a monster like this?
A few Allied Jōnin exchanged grim looks, their eyes drifting toward the plentiful explosive tags tucked inside their ninja pouches...
Their mission was to wear down Kazuki's stamina and chakra, to force him to reveal more of his jutsu so the Kage-level fighters could study his style and land a killing blow.
But so far, Kazuki hadn't deigned to use anything but taijutsu—and with just that, he had ripped through their front lines.
No ninjutsu. No genjutsu. Not even dojutsu...
His eyes remained plain, black and unassuming—not even a trace of Sharingan.
"That smug bastard!"
A Jōnin from Iwagakure named Hioka remembered how Kazuki had killed his comrade. Rage overcame fear, and he discreetly slipped several explosive tags beneath his armor.
If he tried to use ninjutsu, Kazuki would dodge easily with his speed.
But if they forced him into close combat—where Kazuki thrived with taijutsu—they could draw him in. And at point-blank range, these explosive tags just might work.
Seeing Hioka's subtle move, a dozen other Jōnin immediately copied him, ready to make the arrogant Uchiha taste their resolve.
It was tragic, really.
Their lives now served one purpose: to force Kazuki to stop relying solely on taijutsu.
That was all they could hope to achieve.
To these seasoned shinobi, if the tags managed to wound Kazuki, it would be worth it.
Ninjas are fragile creatures…
With the exception of monsters like the Third or Fourth Raikage—who had honed their Lightning Chakra Mode to the extreme—even legends like Ōnoki or the Third Kazekage wouldn't walk away unscathed from a close-range detonation.
With the right timing, even losing a limb was possible.
Like Nagato in the original timeline—despite his invincible Rinnegan, he still lost his legs to Hanzō's Explosive Tag Technique: Exploding Flame Formation.
Now, a dozen Jōnin surged forward from all directions, charging straight at Kazuki with death in their eyes.
"Go to hell!" they roared in unison.
Kazuki chuckled softly, almost in approval, and gave a slight nod. A faint glint of crimson flashed in his eyes as he swept his gaze around him.
In their fury and desperation to fixate on Kazuki's location, the suicide Jōnin forgot the cardinal rule when facing a Uchiha—
Don't make eye contact.
But they did.
And in that instant, tomoe swirled into their vision—terrifying and inescapable.
[Thud! Thud!]
The bomb-laden shinobi all abruptly halted mid-charge and dropped to their knees.
Kazuki strolled forward toward the Allied Shinobi Forces. Around him knelt the Jōnin of every village.
Just one man advancing.
But the entire army of shinobi recoiled in fear, backing away with their heads bowed, not daring to meet the calm red glow of his eyes.
Kazuki smiled again—and snapped his fingers.
[BOOM!!]
The moment Kazuki snapped his fingers, the enemy shinobi who had planned to die with him detonated their explosive tags without hesitation, blowing themselves up on the spot.
Hundreds of explosive tags ignited in a blinding blaze, pillars of fire shooting into the sky as thick smoke coiled over the battlefield. The blast wave swept through the area, making Kazuki's white hair to flutter wildly.
He didn't even glance back. But in that moment, the blaze behind him served as the perfect backdrop.
"Don't get cocky!!" a female jōnin with a curvaceous figure shouted furiously. A crimson-orange fireball ignited in her hand, and she hurled it at Kazuki with burning rage.
That was Pakura, wielder of Scorch Release.
Kazuki lifted his gaze and glanced at Pakura, then at the fiery orbs of Scorch Release hurtling toward him.
He didn't dodge. Instead, he raised his hand and caught one in his palm.
Pakura's eyes lit up with cruel anticipation.
Arrogant bastard.
Scorch Release—born of wind and fire chakra—was a Kekkei Genkai far deadlier than regular Fire Release. Not only did it burn and explode, but its true danger lay in sucking all the moisture from the body of anyone it touched.
To catch it barehanded? As far as Pakura was concerned, Kazuki would be a desiccated corpse in seconds—no matter how strong he was.
But to her shock—and that of everyone watching—the fireball did nothing. Kazuki crushed it in his hand, snuffing it out like a soap bubble.
Pakura's face went pale. Impossible…
Her Scorch Release had never failed her.
Even the Third Raikage, renowned for his iron body, wouldn't have been able to take her 'Scorch Release' head-on without consequence.
What she didn't know was that Kazuki's body had long since transcended the limits of a human in the shinobi world.
Having inherited and fused multiple bloodlines, his body had been relentlessly tempered—day and night—through the constant use of Lightning Release Chakra Mode and advanced medical ninjutsu. A single Scorch Release technique couldn't hope to harm him.
Kazuki gave her another look, a flash of red light flickering in his eyes.
At this moment, although Pakura had been bound as his target, the principle of Burning Release had also been analyzed.
"This Sunagakure kunoichi…" Kazuki said softly, raising a single finger. "You were the first to use ninjutsu, weren't you?"
"In that case, allow me to return the favor—try a taste of your own Scorch Release."
In the blink of an eye—
A tiny red flame flickered to life atop Kazuki's fingertip and instantly swelled with explosive force.
A towering fireball, dozens of meters wide, roared into existence. Its searing heat began drawing all the moisture from the ground in an instant.
Blood spilled across the battlefield blackened and congealed into scabs. The corpses left behind were sucked dry—shriveling to cracked, brittle husks as their skin split open in the wind.
Where once lay the bodies of recognizable shinobi, only bleached skeletons remained—faceless, nameless remnants of the fallen.
"Run! RUN!!" Pakura screamed, her voice cracking from the strain, tinged with despair and horror.
She didn't understand—
How?
How had this man learned Scorch Release just by watching it once—and wielded it in such a terrifying form?
But it was pointless. From the moment Kazuki's fireball had appeared, it began absorbing moisture from a massive radius.
Within its range, the enemy shinobi felt their bodies grow heavier by the second, as dehydration robbed them of all strength. Their feet dragged like they were wading through lead.
From the distance, a special unit of the Allied Shinobi Forces—tasked with countering aerial threats—hurried to respond. Following the Kage's orders, they launched a barrage of Water Dragon Bullets, whistling through the air, hoping to quench the monstrous flames.
Kazuki just smiled gently and murmured, "How adorable…"
Though he continued to sustain the Scorch Release technique, it didn't stop him from casting another large-scale jutsu.
A simple, yet effective Earth-Style Wall rose from the ground, slicing through the incoming water jutsu and cutting off any hope of retreat for the shinobi forces.
The massive Scorch Release fireball—like a miniature sun—soared into the air and detonated.
Under the extreme heat, the very air twisted into rippling waves. Every shinobi caught within its range was instantly scorched into a dried-up skeleton, their faces frozen in lifeless stillness.
The stone wall of the Earth Formation Barrier cracked under the intense heat.
From the perspective of the Allied Shinobi Forces, Kazuki looked like a demon walking out from the depths of hell.
The air around him twisted and shimmered, distorting his form into something ghostly and unfathomable. Amid the rising steam, his white hair fluttered gently, giving him an ethereal, almost sage-like appearance.
And yet, surrounding him were nothing but bleached skeletons and patches of blood-crusted earth—marks of death itself.
"…Still too slow."
Kazuki stared at his hands. His voice wasn't loud, yet it carried crystal-clear across the battlefield where tens of thousands clashed.
"At this rate... how long is it going to take me to kill all these people?"
"It's about time I got serious."
That single statement caused a stir—even within the ranks of Konoha's camp.
Slow?!
Just moments ago, his blade strikes, and explosive Scorch Release had already claimed the lives of at least a thousand shinobi!
These are not the useless Genin...
They were the backbone of entire hidden villages: seasoned jonin with legendary names, or veteran chunin with years of experience and solid potential.
If this had been a traditional shinobi world war, Kazuki alone would've caused a months-long stalemate in just one region with that kill count.
And yet this hadn't even taken the time it takes for a single stick of incense to burn...
And he says he's too slow?! How fast does he want to be?!
Only now did the young Uchiha Itachi realize that the 'battlefields' he'd witnessed before were mere child's play.
This place—these bones, blood scabs, killing intent, cries of agony and madness—this was what true brutality looked like.
"Father… I, I want to ask you something…"
Itachi clung to Fugaku's leg, the boy's early maturity buckling beneath the weight of what he'd just seen. His voice trembled as he whispered: "I… I heard that you and Kazuki-sama don't get along… Is that true?"
Even among the Uchiha, rumors had reached Itachi's ears.
He hadn't paid them much mind. After all, his father was the very picture of calm detachment, and Itachi had no knowledge of what had happened before he was born. He had always dismissed the gossip as baseless.
But after seeing what Kazuki was truly capable of, Itachi began to fear that those rumors might not have been lies after all.
"It's not true… It's not true…"
Fugaku took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, silently chanting in his heart to stay calm.
His Mangekyō had shown him a future—a future he believed in. It couldn't be wrong.
But could anyone—even him—truly stand against Kazuki in this state?
His hand trembled. He instinctively reached out, gripping Itachi's small hand. The two stood frozen—father and son—each drowning in his own silent dread.
Off to the side, Jiraiya was already in a daze.
So the Great Toad Sage really was right all along…
Kazuki was indeed the prophesied child—
But not the one who would bring peace.
The one who would bring calamity.
Jiraiya couldn't even fathom what would become of the shinobi world if Kazuki kept going like this…
He was supposed to bring peace—not turn the world into a wasteland!
Jiraiya's hands clenched. He was about to step forward, to try and negotiate, or at least talk to Kazuki—
But Sarutobi Hiruzen seized his arm in an iron grip.
"Jiraiya," the old man said in a low voice, "if you want to live, don't go."
"Not every Hokage is as easy to talk to as this old man."
"Orochimaru's already been dealt with. Do you want to follow in his footsteps?"
"Sit. Down."
His tone hardened. "If those shinobi want to survive, they'll surrender. And if they don't, it only means they still have the will to resist. Which means… the fighting must continue."
"This is a battlefield. It's either them or us."
Jiraiya's expression darkened. He clenched both fists and lowered his head in silence.
And nearby, Shimura Danzo had already begun plotting his escape—and defection.
Kazuki's hands were too ruthless. His heart even darker.
Danzo didn't doubt for a second: if Kazuki—who found it too slow to kill a thousand people in the time it takes incense to burn—ever noticed him again, his fate would be gruesome.
If I don't run… I'm dead.
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