Without hesitation, Hanzo launched himself from Ibuse's massive head, diving downward in a slanting arc like a hawk descending on its prey. His Kusarigama gleamed menacingly in his grip, the chain rattling faintly in the air. Though he could have chosen to target the other Uzumaki siblings, he knew it would be pointless. No matter which angle he attacked from, those two—Guy and Antares—would block his path. They were the shields, the wall that stood between him and the rest of the clan.
Hanzo's strategy was simple: break the shield, and the rest would crumble. Destroy their hope, and then slaughter them.
As he descended, Erza moved in the opposite direction, darting toward her poisoned siblings. Her eyes never wavered—she trusted Antares and Guy completely. If they had sworn to hold Hanzo back, she believed them. That faith gave her the freedom to focus entirely on healing.
Her first stop was Makima, who had collapsed to one knee, her breaths ragged and uneven. The poison was eating away at her faster than it was at the others. Out of all the siblings, Makima's body was the most vulnerable—her physique not built for direct battle.
Throughout the clash with Hanzo, Makima had stayed mostly on the sidelines, avoiding direct confrontation. She knew all too well that in a physical clash, she would be no match for him. Her ability thrived on domination through control—making others bend their will to hers—but that required one crucial condition: her target had to feel inferior to her. Hanzo, however, was the very embodiment of overwhelming power. His pride and strength made it impossible for him to feel beneath her. To someone like him, Makima's ability was worthless.
Instead, she had relied on her summons, commanding them to harry Ibuse, Hanzo's monstrous salamander. But the gap was far too great. Ibuse was stronger, faster, and deadlier than anything she could conjure. He barely acknowledged her creatures, brushing them aside with casual contempt. One by one, her summons were battered, poisoned, and nearly destroyed.
And then came the moment when Ibuse exhaled his suffocating breath to protect Hanzo. In that instant, Makima had been desperately trying to shield one of her battered summons. Her hesitation cost her dearly—the poisonous mist washed over her before she could react. The venom sank deep into her lungs and blood, leaving her the most grievously afflicted among her siblings.
Now she knelt on the ground, trembling, her skin pale and her eyes clouded, struggling just to stay conscious. Erza dropped to her side at once, pressing her hand against Makima's shoulder, already focusing her chakra to begin purging the poison.
While Erza concentrated on treating Makima, the clash at the front reached its peak. Hanzo, who had dived down with lethal precision, finally met Antares head-on.
Antares braced himself, arms crossed in front of his chest like a shield of iron. The sickle blade of Hanzo's Kusarigama slammed against them with explosive force, sending a shower of sparks spraying outward. The screech of metal against hardened scales rang across the battlefield. Though no visible cut appeared on Antares's body, the raw power behind the strike was undeniable—the ground beneath his feet cracked, and he was driven backward, skidding and dragging through the dirt for nearly five meters before he could halt his momentum.
Hanzo prepared to press the advantage, but before he could pursue, the air above him shimmered. Dozens of blazing fireballs materialized high overhead, summoned by Guy. With a snap of his hands, he sent them crashing down like a meteor shower.
Hanzo's eyes narrowed. His form blurred as he moved, weaving between the deadly hail with almost light speed. Fireballs exploded all around him, lighting the battlefield in violent bursts of orange and red, but not a single one struck his body. He slipped between them as though the flames bent away from him, his movements sharp and merciless.
Just as he cleared the last barrage, another threat surged forth. From a distance, Antares—who had finally stabilized his footing after being blasted back—thrust his head forward, his chest swelling as he released his signature technique.
A concentrated beam of incandescent flame tore through the battlefield, a roaring inferno that distorted the very air around it. The Breath of Destruction.
The fiery torrent engulfed Hanzo before he could react. For a moment, his figure vanished entirely in the blaze, swallowed by the searing column of fire. The ground beneath the beam melted into blackened glass, and the heat washed across the battlefield in waves.
Yet, despite the overwhelming spectacle, neither Antares nor Guy celebrated. Their instincts told them something was wrong.
When the flames finally dissipated, Hanzo's form was gone. In his place, water pooled and shimmered faintly before collapsing into a harmless puddle.
"A substitution…" Guy muttered, his eyes narrowing.
Indeed—it was the Water Body Substitution Technique. At some point during the barrage of attacks, Hanzo had replaced himself with a water clone. The timing was flawless; neither Antares nor Guy had even noticed the switch. Their combined efforts, devastating as they were, had struck nothing but an illusion.
A sudden jolt surged through Antares's instincts—his senses screamed a warning. He began to pivot, but it was too late.
A crushing blow slammed into his back with the force of a war hammer. Pain exploded through his body as he was hurled forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet as he struggled to steady himself.
Hanzo had materialized behind him, his fist buried in Antares's scaled torso. Unlike the clash with the Kusarigama earlier, this strike left visible damage. The protective scales across Antares's upper body splintered where the fist connected, cracks spiderwebbing outward from the impact point.
Hanzo's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his voice carrying a cold finality.
"Although I cannot pierce your body with my weapon… I can shatter you with my fists."
Without giving his opponent a chance to recover, Hanzo pressed his assault. His movements blurred as he pummeled Antares with a relentless flurry of strikes. Each punch landed like a thunderclap, scales cracking and breaking under the sheer force. Antares staggered beneath the onslaught, forced to endure blow after blow as though he were nothing more than a training dummy.
Guy tried to intervene, launching bursts of fire and dashing in to strike whenever an opening appeared. But his efforts amounted only to brief interruptions. Hanzo's speed and precision were too great—he slipped between Guy's interference with near-effortless fluidity, never once breaking the rhythm of his brutal assault on Antares.
And yet, despite the merciless beating, Antares did not retreat. He planted his feet, refusing to yield. Every punch carved agony through his body, but he gritted his teeth and bore it. His purpose was clear: to stall Hanzo, to buy Erza the time she needed to heal the others. Retreat was not an option.
Cracks spread across his scales, but each time his battered flesh knit itself back together. His regenerative ability kept him standing, even as Hanzo's strikes tore into him again and again. The pain was immense, but Antares embraced it—this was his advantage, and he would use it until his last breath.
Hanzo, however, noticed. His expression shifted subtly, intrigue flickering across his hardened features. He had expected his fists to finish this quickly. Instead, the man before him refused to fall, his body repairing itself as fast as Hanzo could damage it.
Such resilience… such defense. And regeneration on top of it, Hanzo thought. Against most opponents, this man would be unkillable in the short term.
Abruptly, Hanzo stopped his assault and sprang backward, retreating to gain distance.
Antares and Guy, both panting heavily, exchanged a quick glance, confusion flickering in their eyes. Why had he suddenly withdrawn?
The answer came at once.
The ground beneath Antares shuddered violently. Cracks split open the battlefield, and a thunderous rumble shook the air. Then, from the depths below, a massive maw erupted upward, its jagged fangs snapping shut as it lunged to swallow Antares whole.
It was Ibuse. The giant salamander had vanished underground earlier—and now it struck from below, its timing merciless.
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