"You two seem to be having fun, mind if we join?"
The voice cut through the battlefield like a war drum. Hiroko turned his head, his darkened body still rippling with power, only to see Vulkan, Shiro, and Kirishima appear behind him in a shimmer of light. Dust and smoke curled around their silhouettes as though the world itself bowed to their arrival.
Hiroko let out a laugh, his blade still locked against the giant's sword. "Sure… but whatever happens, don't blame me." His lips twisted into a sharp grin. "Hahaha—come on!!!"
A Few Hours Earlier…
The three shinobi lords had stood in tense silence, the battlefield crackling with elemental storms. Pride was their curse, and rivalry their constant shadow. Vulkan, the red ogre, refused to bow to anyone. Shiro, cold and precise, loathed Vulkan's reckless arrogance. And Kirishima, wild as thunder, treated them both as rivals to surpass.
Normally, they would rather fight each other than fight side by side. But the battlefield left no room for pride. The longer they hesitated, the more bodies fell, the more their people bled.
"Long-range won't get us anywhere," Shiro muttered, his icy breath fogging in the chaos. "It'll only prolong this massacre."
Vulkan spat on the ground, hammer resting on his shoulder. "Tch. Don't think I like this, but if we keep fighting separate, we'll all die tired."
Kirishima grinned, wiping blood from his cheek. "Heh. Took you two long enough to admit it."
Hatred wasn't the word for what they felt toward one another. It was rivalry, sharpened by years of opposite views and clashing philosophies. But in this moment, rivalry had to give way to survival.
The three exchanged a wordless nod, pride set aside, and then—without hesitation—charged.
Clash of Titans
The battlefield erupted once more. Vulkan's hammer roared as it swung toward Cyclone, only for the blow to be intercepted by Chrogon's massive bulk. Before Chrogon could counter, Shiro unleashed a freezing gale, coating the beast's scales in jagged ice. But Inazuma struck from above, lightning spears raining down, forcing Shiro onto the defensive.
On and on, the cycle repeated. One side attacked, the other defended. Fire against storm, ice against lightning, thunder against brute strength. It was endless, a storm without resolution.
From the ground, the soldiers watched in awe. To their eyes, this was no longer mortal combat—it was gods against demons. Every swing of Vulkan's hammer cracked the earth. Every breath of Shiro froze rivers mid-current. Every strike of Kirishima's blade split the air with thunder.
But gods brought calamity. Debris and elemental backlash tore across the battlefield. Those unlucky enough to be caught in the collateral were struck down—some killed instantly, others writhing in agony. Blood soaked the earth, the price of witnessing divinity.
And above it all, the clash between the Giant and Hiroko unleashed shockwaves of darkness and light that pressed against every soul. The weaker shinobi and beasts collapsed where they stood, bodies convulsing under the weight of Hiroko's miasma.
The line between life and death thinned. The people began to hallucinate. To them, their leaders were no longer men—they were gods incarnate. Shinobi Gods.
Fueled by this vision, the warriors found their courage reignited. Their souls burned. Their voices rose. They would not fall behind their lords. They would fight until their bones cracked and their spirits broke.
Vulkan noticed, and a booming laugh thundered from his chest. "Oi! The little ones are besting us. Better keep up, skinny pretty boys!"
"Not if I can help it," Shiro shot back coldly, but the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.
"Hahaha! Last one's a rotten egg!" Kirishima whooped, darting forward with a speed that rivaled lightning itself.
Even Hiroko, watching through the darkness, smirked. "Is that all you've got, monster? Even a child could do better!" he mocked Ymir, his laughter a blade of its own.
Ymir's response was silence. The Giant simply charged, sword raised, his enormous frame blotting out the battlefield's light.
Breaking Point
Elsewhere, the three lords fought on.
"Hahaha! Feel the power of Vulkan, the Red Ogre!" Vulkan roared, his hammer blazing with molten chakra. He swung it down with earth-shattering force, the ground beneath him cratering.
Shiro, unflinching, focused his icy fury on Inazuma. "Freeze." His voice was a whisper, yet the storm around him obeyed, freezing lightning into brittle shards.
Kirishima, wild and relentless, clashed with Chrogon directly. Sparks and steel danced as his thunderous strikes matched the beast blow for blow.
But even gods tire. Breath grew ragged. Movements slowed. And when Chrogon's massive claw struck, it sent all three shinobi crashing into the dirt.
Their people rushed to them, forming a protective ring. "My lords, drink this!" cried a medic, offering flasks of luminous elixirs.
The lords downed the medicine without hesitation. Heat surged through their veins, fatigue washing away in a tide of raw energy.
Vulkan grinned, flexing his arm. "Now that's the good stuff. Hahaha! Medic, when we win this war, you'll be rewarded like a king!"
But before relief could settle, a scout's cry split the air: "Beast lords incoming! Hold positions!"
"Damn bastards never give us a break!" Vulkan growled, rising once more.
Together, they charged. Their chakra flared like suns as they hurled themselves into the fray. Vulkan's hammer grew colossal, slamming into Chrogon and Inazuma. Shiro's ice imprisoned Inazuma's feet, while Kirishima's strikes rattled Chrogon's armor.
Cyclone evaded with her wings, soaring above—until fate intervened. A massive boulder, torn from the heavens by the chaos of battle, plummeted onto her back. She screamed, wings faltering.
"NOW!" Vulkan roared. He leapt, hammer blazing, and struck Cyclone with a blow so fierce the ground shuddered. The beast collapsed, unconscious.
Rage overtook the remaining two. Inazuma crackled with furious lightning, Chrogon bellowed with primal rage. But Shiro and Kirishima only grinned, eyes burning.
"Separate them," Shiro commanded.
"Gladly!" Kirishima shouted.
The plan was simple: divide and conquer. Vulkan versus Cyclone. Shiro versus Inazuma. Kirishima versus Chrogon. Fire melts ice. Ice stops lightning. Speed overcomes brute strength.
It was balance born of necessity.
For hours they fought, their people alongside them, the air trembling with every clash. Beasts that had once seemed immortal began to falter, their movements sluggish, their roars weaker.
And then—
"Let's finish this!" Vulkan bellowed. "Meteor Shower!!!"
"Ice God's Glacial Spear!" Shiro cried.
"Thunder God's Lightning Bolt!!!" Kirishima roared.
Three ultimate techniques. Three gods unleashing judgment.
The sky split open, the ground shattered, the void itself seemed to scream. And when the dust cleared, all three beast lords lay slain, their monstrous cores glimmering amidst the rubble.
Silence. Then cheers. Victory, at last.
But triumph was fleeting.
From the distance, a body crashed to the earth with the force of a falling star. Hiroko. His dark form broken, bloodied.
And above him, the Giant descended, sword raised to cleave him in two.
"Damn it, can't even celebrate," Vulkan spat. "Oi, psychic, hand me the scroll!"
A ninja rushed forward. Vulkan snatched the teleportation scroll, ripped it open, and light enveloped the three lords.
In a blink, they appeared at Hiroko's side. The Giant's blade screamed down—only to be met by an ancient artifact, raised in unison, halting the strike. The ground quaked beneath the impact, but the blade did not fall.
Vulkan stood tall, hammer on his shoulder, grin wide as ever.
"You two seem to be having fun," he said, voice booming across the battlefield. "Mind if we join?"