After dealing with one enemy, Senmei Asahi didn't slow down. His sharp eyes swept across the battlefield, quickly locking onto an Iwagakure shinobi who clearly lacked skill in taijutsu. A rookie in hand-to-hand combat—exactly the type of opponent he could eliminate effortlessly.
With the precision of a predator, Asahi closed the distance. For someone like him, whose fists could level boulders and break bones like dry twigs, taking out someone this weak would be as easy as breathing. He lunged forward, arm pulled back for a punch that would end the fight in a heartbeat.
But just as his fist was about to connect, something felt wrong.
In an instant, the Iwa shinobi in front of him shifted. The face twisted, contorted—and became Shinohara's.
'Genjutsu!'
Though the sight, sound, and even the scent were terrifyingly real, Asahi's combat instinct kicked in. There was no way Shinohara could be here. He had been deployed to the front line against Kumogakure. His presence here was impossible. That alone shattered the illusion in his mind.
Without hesitation, he smashed his fist forward. The illusionary Shinohara's face was obliterated, and in that moment, a small surge of chakra invaded his tenketsu points from behind—courtesy of a companion. Clarity returned like a cold splash of water. The illusion crumbled, revealing the broken and lifeless body of an Iwagakure shinobi.
'That bastard almost got me.'
In large-scale battles, genjutsu users were among the most dangerous. Their attacks weren't directly lethal—but a well-timed illusion could disorient a target just long enough for a real death blow to follow. And on the battlefield, that's all it took: a second of confusion, and you were dead.
Asahi wasn't a genjutsu specialist. If caught by a master, even he would need help to escape. That's why it was critical to fight with trustworthy comrades close by—shinobi who could release you from genjutsu with a jolt of chakra at the right moment.
This was why every major village—except for the infamous Kirigakure—emphasized cooperation and trust between comrades. Trust didn't just build morale; it saved lives.
"Thanks." Asahi muttered quickly, glancing at the Konoha shinobi who'd pulled him out of the illusion.
"Asahi, what are you doing up here?" the ninja replied, clearly surprised to see him fighting alongside them. "Weren't you in the medical corps?"
"Tsunade-sensei's already here. I'm not needed in the rear anymore. Better to reduce casualties by killing the enemy directly." Asahi responded bluntly.
The Konoha shinobi nodded. "Aside from Tsunade-sama, I doubt there's another combat medic in the entire shinobi world, of course you being her student makes you an exception."
"Enough talk. That genjutsu user still isn't dead." Asahi's voice was flat, his focus razor-sharp.
He surged forward, chakra bursting from his feet in a sudden acceleration. His hand gripped a special kunai—the signature tool of his Flying Thunder God Technique. With fluid motion, he closed the gap and drove it through the genjutsu user's throat.
But just as he was about to retreat, the ground beneath his feet turned soft. His momentum vanished. He looked down. His legs were submerged in the earth like thick mud.
'Damn it, this technique…'
It was Earth-style ∙ Ant Hell—a deadly control-type jutsu that turned the battlefield itself into a deathtrap. The user's feet sank deep, unable to escape, suffocating slowly beneath the earth's pressure. It didn't just immobilize—it killed.
And as if that wasn't enough, another Iwa shinobi nearby was already weaving hand seals.
Earth-style ∙ Earth Dragon Bullet!
A massive earthen dragon surged from the ground, its gaping maw forming mid-air as it prepared to launch a bombardment of projectiles.
Before, this situation would have spelled certain death. Trapped and under coordinated attack, even Jōnin had fallen to such teamwork.
But Asahi was no longer someone who had to cower or wait for rescue.
*Whoosh!*
With a flick of his wrist, he hurled his kunai backward—embedding it behind the genjutsu user's corpse. In the next instant, chakra flared.
Flying Thunder God Technique!
He vanished from the Ant Hell with a flash, appearing instantly behind the illusionist's corpse. Without missing a beat, his fist came crashing down into another Iwa ninja's back, flattening him to the ground.
"That's—that's space-time ninjutsu!"
"This kid—he's using Flying Thunder God!"
Whispers spread like wildfire.
It was widely known that Namikaze Minato, the Yellow Flash, had mastered the most fearsome space-time ninjutsu. But almost no one knew Senmei Asahi had learned the same technique. The information was a top-secret matter—only the highest ranks of Konohagakure were aware of it.
This was the power of information. Had the enemy known of Asahi's Flying Thunder God, they could've predicted the kunai's placement and launched a counter. Unlike Minato, who could warp mid-battle with godlike reaction speed, Asahi's mastery was not yet refined to such a degree. He could not use it recklessly in close combat against top-tier opponents.
Still, even a crude version of Flying Thunder God was terrifying.
But he knew—it wouldn't stay secret forever. The more he fought, the more this trump card would be exposed. And when the enemy began to adapt, this advantage would shrink.
'That's how real shinobi warfare works.'
Still, even if your abilities were known, there were those who remained undefeated. The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, was one such man. No bloodline. No Kekkei Genkai. Yet feared across all Five Great Nations. Because he'd mastered the five chakra natures and every jutsu in Konoha's arsenal.
Information alone wasn't enough. Power, versatility, and unpredictability still reigned supreme.
And right now, on this battlefield, Asahi still had all of that.
With a few allied Konoha shinobi at his side, he pressed forward. Kunai flashed. Blood splattered. One by one, the Iwa forces fell.
*Boom!*
The ground quaked violently. Twin earthen domes erupted from the earth, sending Gamabunta—the mighty toad boss—back to Mount Myōboku in a flash of smoke.
It was Kitsuchi's Mountainous Earth Technique—a colossal jutsu that could stop even the Ten-Tails momentarily.
Asahi's eyes narrowed.
He'd long coveted the Earth-style secrets of Iwagakure. Once, he'd even considered training a spy to infiltrate the village—perhaps someone like Yakushi Kabuto. But agents of that caliber weren't created overnight.
Another time, he'd considered stealing Obito's Kamui Sharingan, using its intangibility to slip into the village and copy their scrolls. But that too had failed.
Still, Asahi wasn't discouraged. With time, he could gain access to another chakra nature through training alone. But he had made a decision—he wouldn't pursue breadth over depth.
His path was to fuse senjutsu with his existing arsenal. A powerful, focused style built around devastating close combat, brutal elemental bursts, and high-speed teleportation.
He would not scatter his focus.
Even if it took years, he'd wait for the right moment to seize the Earth-style techniques from Iwagakure. He didn't need to rush.
After all, he had already waited so long—from a powerless orphan, overlooked and underestimated, to now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Konoha's elite.
What was a few more years?
'If there's one thing I've mastered better than ninjutsu.' he thought, eyes glowing with calm fire, 'It's patience.'
*****
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