The massive water torrent thundered across the battlefield like a living entity, its roar drowning out all other sounds as it swept through the area where Deidara found himself trapped. The sheer force of the cascading water created violent air currents that whipped in every direction, turning the sky into a chaotic maelstrom of conflicting winds. Deidara's white clay bird, normally graceful and responsive to his every command, bucked and struggled against the turbulent atmosphere like a wild animal fighting against invisible chains.
This is bad, Deidara thought, his artistic eye taking in the tactical nightmare unfolding around him. The water dragons summoned by Nawaki's collaboration jutsu moved with predatory intelligence, their serpentine forms cutting through the air with deadly precision. Each dragon seemed to anticipate his movements, forcing him into an ever-tightening spiral of evasion. The clay bird's wings beat frantically, but the chaotic air currents made stable flight nearly impossible.
If he deployed his explosive clay now, the blast would likely consume him along with his targets. The water surrounding him would amplify the explosion's force unpredictably, and in his current unstable position, he couldn't guarantee his own survival. For an artist who prided himself on controlled destruction, this was the worst possible scenario.
Swoosh!
The sound of rushing air announced the arrival of salvation. High above the Hidden Mist Village, another massive white bird descended from the clouds, its wings cutting through the sky with purposeful speed. This bird dwarfed Deidara's mount, its clay form sculpted with the same artistic precision but on a scale that spoke of its rider's different combat philosophy.
Perched on the creature's back, Hoshigaki Kisame's shark-like eyes immediately assessed the battlefield below. His gaze swept across the coordinated water jutsu before settling on Nawaki, who stood at the center of the aquatic maelstrom like a conductor orchestrating a deadly symphony. Kisame's lips curved into a predatory grin, revealing rows of sharp teeth.
"Impressive," Kisame murmured, his voice carrying a note of genuine professional appreciation. "To coordinate the chakra of multiple Kirigakure elite into a single jutsu... that takes real skill." His eyes narrowed as he calculated the tactical implications. "But in a waterless environment, maintaining this level of water-style ninjutsu requires enormous chakra reserves. Even with shared chakra, the drain must be significant."
The technique Nawaki was employing was no simple water jutsu. It was a collaborative ninjutsu that required perfect synchronization between multiple skilled practitioners, each contributing their chakra to create a devastating composite technique. Such coordination was extremely rare, and Kisame had to admit that very few ninja in the Hidden Mist Village could manage this level of water manipulation.
"Reinforcements?" Uchiha Yoruki's voice carried across the battlefield, his Sharingan already active and analyzing the approaching threat. The crimson eyes tracked the large bird's descent, noting its size, speed, and the distinctive chakra signature of its rider.
"Water Style: Water Chaos Wave!"
Kisame's response was immediate and overwhelming. Opening his mouth wide, he expelled a massive torrent of water that rivaled a waterfall in both volume and force. The technique was perfectly executed—not the wild, unfocused flood of an amateur, but the controlled deluge of a master water-style practitioner. The water crashed down from above like a divine judgment, its weight and momentum designed to shatter the delicate balance of Nawaki's coordinated jutsu.
The uncontrolled water mass, lacking the precise chakra manipulation that guided Nawaki's technique, plunged into the center of the water dragon formation. The impact was immediate and catastrophic for the defending jutsu. The carefully maintained rotation of the water dragons faltered as foreign water disrupted their synchronized movement. The speed of the water tornado decreased dramatically, its crushing force dissipating as the technique's structural integrity collapsed.
Deidara seized the opportunity with the quick reflexes of a veteran. His clay bird, no longer fighting against the impossible air currents, shot upward with renewed purpose. The white wings beat powerfully as they climbed toward the safety of altitude, leaving the chaos of the water jutsu behind.
Once he reached a position of tactical advantage, Deidara's artistic instincts took over. His hands moved with practiced precision, molding explosive clay into various forms. "Art is an explosion that should be appreciated from the proper distance, hmm!" he called out, his voice carrying the manic enthusiasm that marked his approach to combat. Small clay spiders and birds rained down from his position, each one a precisely crafted work of destructive art.
The two Akatsuki members reunited in the relative safety of the upper atmosphere, their birds circling each other in a brief moment of tactical regrouping. Even Nawaki's impressive water tornado couldn't reach them at this altitude, giving them the breathing space they needed to coordinate their next move.
"It's him!" Mei Terumi's voice carried a cold edge that spoke of old grudges and unfinished business. Though distance and the chaos of battle made visual identification difficult, the distinctive signature of the water-style ninjutsu left no doubt about the identity of their new opponent. Her hands moved unconsciously toward her weapons, muscle memory responding to the presence of a familiar threat.
"The wielder of Samehada?" Uchiha Yoruki's question was more statement than inquiry, his tactical mind already adjusting to the new threat parameters. During the Third Great Ninja World War, he had faced the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of Kirigakure multiple times, learning through painful experience to respect the unique capabilities of each legendary blade.
Samehada was perhaps the most dangerous of the seven swords, not because of its cutting power, but because of its chakra-absorption abilities. Combined with Kisame's own monstrous chakra reserves and his mastery of water-style ninjutsu, even Nawaki's collaborative technique would struggle to overwhelm him. The sword would simply devour the chakra that powered the jutsu, turning the defenders' strength against them.
Swish!
The transformation was instant and unmistakable. Yoruki's dark eyes blazed crimson as the Sharingan activated, three black tomoe spinning lazily around each pupil. The legendary dojutsu immediately began analyzing the battlefield, tracking chakra flows, predicting movement patterns, and identifying potential weaknesses in their opponents' positions.
While Uchiha Yoruki and Nawaki engaged the Akatsuki forces at the Hidden Mist Village, the organization's simultaneous attacks were unfolding across multiple fronts. The scope of their operation was becoming clear—this was no random assault, but a coordinated campaign designed to stretch Konoha's response capabilities to their breaking point.
At Takigakure, the smaller village's defenders were barely holding their own against their assigned Akatsuki operative. Under normal circumstances, Takigakure's limited military strength would have made it an easy target for complete destruction. Only the Akatsuki's operational parameters—strike hard, extract what they needed, and avoid prolonged engagement that might reveal their full capabilities to Konoha's intelligence network—had prevented total annihilation.
The situation in Sunagakure presented a different challenge entirely. The Fifth Kazekage, Gaara, had matured into a formidable leader whose mastery of sand-based ninjutsu had reached legendary proportions. The masked man who now wielded only a single Sharingan found himself facing not just the Kazekage's overwhelming power, but the coordinated defense of an entire village that had rallied behind their leader. His chances of success were diminishing with each passing moment.
Back at the primary battlefield, the stone mountains that had once dominated the landscape were being systematically obliterated. Horrific explosions swept across the terrain with the unstoppable force of natural disasters, reducing massive stone formations to rubble and dust. Each detonation sent shockwaves through the earth, and the cumulative effect was transforming the entire area into a wasteland of smoke and devastation.
The explosive crescendo reached its peak as techniques of unimaginable power collided in the space between the two legendary ninja. Huge columns of smoke rose from the impact zone, their dark pillars reaching toward the sky like monuments to destruction. Below the smoke, the very earth had been scarred and cratered, transformed into a hellscape that bore no resemblance to its former state.
Konan soared through the sky above the devastation, her paper wings carrying her through the ash-laden air with graceful efficiency. When she gazed down at the scene of destruction, genuine surprise flickered across her usually composed features. Even she, who had witnessed Pain's most devastating techniques, had never seen this level of raw destructive power unleashed in a single exchange.
Through the smoke and chaos, her sharp eyes caught sight of a figure emanating a distinctive dark golden aura. The stone mountain where Kushina had taken her defensive position was gone, reduced to nothing more than scattered debris and settling dust. But Konan's trained perception told her that the Fourth Hokage's wife had survived the apocalyptic exchange.
Indeed, Kushina stood within a shimmering barrier of pure chakra, her red hair whipping in the supernatural winds generated by the explosion. Her expression was calm despite the destruction around her, drawing on experience gained through her unique connection to the Nine-Tails. In the spiritual landscape of her mind, she had once used her diamond chains and barriers to directly block the Nine-Tails' Tailed Beast Ball—a feat that few ninja in history could claim. The aftermath of even this tremendous explosion was manageable for someone who had contained the power of a complete Tailed Beast.
The strength of both Nagato and Minato's previous attacks had indeed approached the level of Tailed Beast Balls. When such forces collided and their energies combined, the resulting explosion transcended normal ninjutsu and entered the realm of natural disasters. But Kushina's mastery of the Nine-Tails' chakra, combined with her own formidable abilities, had allowed her to weather the storm.
When Konan's gaze found her, Kushina's superhuman perception immediately detected the scrutiny. She raised her head slightly, her eyes meeting Konan's across the battlefield with a look that promised retribution for any who threatened her family.
At the epicenter of the devastation, two figures emerged from the smoke and chaos. Nagato and Minato stood facing each other across several dozen meters of scarred earth, their confrontation having carved a zone of destruction that would serve as a lasting monument to their power. The settling dust could not diminish their mutual awareness of each other's presence—both ninja had transcended the need for normal vision, their perception extending far beyond what ordinary senses could provide.
The weight of their shared history and conflicting ideologies hung between them like a tangible force. Both men wore expressions of grim determination, understanding that their philosophical differences could no longer be resolved through words alone.
"You didn't even use your space-time ninjutsu to deflect my attack," Nagato observed, his voice carrying a note of cold analysis. "Are you trying to demonstrate something to me, Namikaze Minato?"
Everyone in the ninja world knew that the Fourth Hokage's greatest strength lay in his mastery of space-time ninjutsu. The Flying Thunder God technique had made him legendary, allowing him to appear and disappear at will, redirecting attacks with surgical precision, and striking from impossible angles. His decision to meet Nagato's assault head-on, rather than employing his signature evasion techniques, was tactically puzzling.
"Or perhaps," Nagato continued, his tone growing more dangerous, "you're afraid that I'll discover the flaws in your technique if you use it?"
The observation was tactically sound. If Minato had attempted to use a space-time barrier to deflect Nagato's attack, the Rinnegan's analytical capabilities might have revealed weaknesses in the jutsu's structure. Nagato could have exploited that moment of technique activation to launch a devastating counterattack, turning Minato's greatest strength into a liability.
Minato's furrowed brow revealed the depth of his internal struggle. The tactical considerations were important, but they weren't the primary source of his conflict.
"Nagato," Minato said suddenly, his voice carrying a note of desperate sincerity, "this fight between us serves no purpose at all."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with shared memory and mutual loss. "We are both Jiraiya-sensei's disciples. Fighting each other will only bring sorrow to our teacher's spirit."
It was a plea that came from the heart of a man who had always believed in the possibility of understanding between people. Nagato's decision to leave Konoha, his subsequent actions, and his current path—none of it aligned with the behavior Minato expected from someone truly evil. There was something in Nagato's motivations that suggested he was not merely another enemy to be defeated, but a fellow student who had lost his way.
"Namikaze Minato," Nagato's voice carried a note of cold mockery, "how long are you going to cling to such naive idealism?"
The temperature of the conversation seemed to drop several degrees as Nagato's expression hardened. "I have already made my intentions clear. My goal now is singular and absolute—to kill you. As for the fate of others, I will decide their worth after this battle concludes."
Nagato's eyes blazed with the power of the Rinnegan as he continued, his voice rising with each word. "You should not have forgotten that I attacked Konoha twice. I targeted your wife when she had just given birth. I nearly destroyed the village you have sworn to protect for the rest of your life."
The words were chosen like weapons, each one designed to cut through Minato's remaining compassion. "You said it yourself during our last encounter—as the Hokage, you must kill me regardless of any personal feelings or shared history."
"The ideals that Jiraiya-sensei taught us are nothing but impossible dreams," Nagato declared, his voice carrying the weight of bitter experience. "If there is any truth to the so-called prophecy, it is this: the person who will determine the future of this world is one of us!"
The mention of the prophecy struck deep, and Minato felt his resolve wavering under the assault of Nagato's words. But even as anger began to rise within him, he maintained a last glimmer of hope for the person standing before him.
"I never believed I was a child of prophecy," Minato said slowly, his voice carrying the weight of hard-won wisdom. "If it weren't for Kushina's strength and sacrifice, I would have died on the night of the Nine-Tails' attack."
His eyes met Nagato's directly, unflinching despite the power that radiated from the Rinnegan. "And what you are doing now—this path of destruction and domination—will never allow you to lead the world toward the change envisioned in the prophecy."
It was in that moment of absolute clarity that Minato finally felt the last of his doubts fade away. Neither he nor Nagato could be the prophesied child who would bring peace to the world. Their conflict itself was proof of their failure to embody the change they both claimed to seek.
"So what?" Nagato's response was delivered with complete disdain, his voice carrying the cold certainty of someone who had abandoned all doubt. "The so-called prophecy is nothing but speculation about possible futures. As long as I become the most powerful person in this world, I can control everything according to my will."
The megalomaniacal nature of his ambition was laid bare as he continued. "Whether it's Konoha or the five great nations, the life and death of every person, the fate of every village—all of it will be decided by me alone!"
Minato's eyes grew cold, the warmth of his earlier appeal replaced by the steel of absolute determination. "This world will not bow to your tyranny."
"No one can stop me!" Nagato's voice reached a frantic pitch as the power of the Gedo Statue and the five Tailed Beasts within him exploded outward in a terrifying display of chakra. The very air seemed to thicken under the pressure of his unleashed power, and the ground beneath his feet began to crack and split.
It was then that Minato finally abandoned his last hope for a peaceful resolution. His voice, when it came, carried the finality of a death sentence.
"Although I hoped to avoid killing you, it seems we have no choice but to settle this once and for all."
As the words left his lips, a chakra signature even more terrifying than Nagato's erupted from Minato's body. The golden light in his brown-yellow horizontal pupils intensified, becoming a dark gold that seemed to burn with inner fire. The power of the Nine-Tails, freely given rather than forcibly taken, merged with his own chakra in a display of cooperation that no other jinchuriki had ever achieved.
The final confrontation between the two most powerful disciples of Jiraiya was about to begin.