Yoko stood on his section of the battlefield as the mist rolled thick around him. Only a handful of Kirigakure ninjas were visible at the front — the rest were swallowed by the fog. But Yoko didn't need to see them. His heightened senses, especially his sharp sense of smell and his ability to communicate with the environment itself, made their positions crystal clear. Every footstep, every breath, every shift in chakra — all of it was visible to him as if outlined in bright light.
He raised his hand slightly.
From the ground beneath his feet, thorny vines burst upward, growing at a ferocious rate. They spread across the battlefield like living serpents, weaving through the mist and wrapping tightly around unsuspecting Kirigakure shinobi. One by one, the vines coiled around their arms, legs, and torsos, yanking them to the ground.
The more they struggled, the tighter the vines constricted.
Thorns pressed against their skin. Some ninjas gasped, others choked as the vines wrapped around their necks. If the entanglement continued, suffocation or crushing would be inevitable.
Yoko remained perfectly still, his expression calm. He didn't need to move at all. The thorny vines under his command slithered relentlessly, tightening their grip, shifting, and repositioning to trap every Kirigakure ninja who dared step into his range.
For him, this fight was no struggle — an easy victory unfolding while he stood silently amid the mist.
But Yoko knew better than to relax. Even with the enemy tangled and helpless, underestimating Kirigakure was never an option.
Without hesitation, he dashed toward the struggling shinobi. The rose in his hand twisted and shifted, transforming into a long, thorny whip. With a sharp crack, he swung it. Wherever the tip struck, flesh caved in instantly — ribs crushed, limbs twisted, bodies collapsing as if hit by a collapsing boulder. The force behind Yoko's whip was monstrous.
If left uninterrupted, he could have continued like this — methodical, unstoppable — slaughtering the entire squad without taking a single scratch.
But the battlefield didn't stay silent.
A massive sword suddenly came spinning through the mist, the air whining as it cut toward him. Yoko's instincts kicked in. He launched himself backward, the blade ripping past his chest by inches before slamming into the ground with enough force to carve a crater.
The sword stuck upright.
And moments later, a figure flickered into view on its handle.
A Kirigakure ninja with both arms intact — tall, rugged, unmistakable.
Juzo Biwa.
The same Juzo whose arm had once been severed by Shanks Uzumaki. It hadn't been irreparably destroyed back then, so Kirigakure had reattached it. Now, fully recovered, he stood facing Yoko once more.
Juzo's eyes narrowed.
Yoko stared back, whip coiling like a hungry serpent at his side.
"So," Yoko said with a cold smile, "you're the one assigned to stop me, Juzo Biwa?" He tilted his head mockingly. "Did you not learn your lesson from my Onii-san, our Clan Head Shanks Uzumaki a few years ago? You should've kept that arm crippled and retired."
Juzo's jaw tightened. He lifted his hand and touched the circular scar running around his arm — the mark of his reattachment. His voice came out low, carrying both pain and resentment.
"I still feel pain when I remember… or even hear the name of your Clan Head."
Juzo continued speaking, his voice low but steady. "Although it would've been best if I could take revenge on him… I know where I stand. With my strength, I am no match for Shanks Uzumaki. But you Uzumaki siblings—" His eyes sharpened behind the mist. "—that's a different matter. I can at least deal with you."
Yoko gave a faint smile. "We'll see about that."
The moment the words left his mouth, he snapped his whip forward at incredible speed. The crack tore through the mist, releasing a sharp pink arc of energy that sliced toward Juzo. Juzo reacted immediately, raising his massive broadsword to block. Steel met energy with a violent spark, the impact vibrating through the ground.
But defending against Yoko's whip wasn't his only problem.
From the earth, thorny vines burst forth without warning. They clawed at Juzo's legs and arms, trying to wrap around him and pull him down. He had to keep leaping, twisting, and slashing just to avoid being pinned. Each vine that snapped upward was sharp enough to pierce rock, and the moment he got careless, one would coil around his limbs and drag him under.
And so the fight between Yoko and Juzo raged on — whip cracks, sword slashes, and vines thrashing violently around them.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Kirigakure forces on Yoko's side were in complete ruin. The thorny vines had already strangled and immobilized them. With each passing minute, their movements grew weaker, breaths shallower. Most were already unconscious, and those still awake were moments away from collapsing entirely.
All of them were on the brink of death — with no escape in sight.
…
Mereoleona stood firm as the Kirigakure forces advanced toward her through the rolling mist. Behind her, flames erupted — a colossal tiger of fire materialized, its massive form blazing with heat. Only its upper half emerged, but that alone was enough to dominate the battlefield.
As the Kirigakure ninjas closed in, the fiery beast roared. Its enormous paw swung downward. With each swipe, several shinobi were sent flying, bodies scorching instantly wherever the flames touched them. The smell of burning cloth and seared flesh filled the air as the tiger carved through the ranks. Every strike shattered their formation, and with Mereoleona controlling the beast, the enemy forces were being annihilated one wave at a time.
But Kirigakure had planned for her.
A blur cut through the flames.
Jinpachi appeared with blinding speed, his blade already mid-swing. His sword —rolled with explosive tags — hummed dangerously as it sliced toward Mereoleona.
She didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and threw a punch, her fist engulfed in roaring flames, meeting his sword head-on.
The moment the blade neared her—
BOOM!
The explosive tags detonated violently, one after another. The shockwave cracked through the earth, and Mereoleona was blasted backward, tumbling across the ground. She skidded, bounced twice, flames flickering around her body.
But seconds later, Mereoleona stood up and casually dusted off her clothes, her eyes locked on Jinpachi. "So," she said, voice steady and fiery, "you're the user of the Shibuki sword — one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen."
She rolled her shoulders, cracked her knuckles, and stretched her arms as if warming up before a spar. Flames rippled faintly around her fists.
"And here I was thinking I'd only have to deal with this trash." She smirked. "Well then… let's have a good fight."
She shot forward in a burst of heat, her fist blazing like molten iron.
Jinpachi raised Shibuki again, swinging the explosive-tag blade toward her. Mereoleona met him head-on with another fiery punch. But this time, the result was different. She didn't budge — not an inch. Instead, Jinpachi was the one forced back, skidding away to avoid being caught in the blast radius of his own sword.
Mereoleona held her ground confidently.
She hadn't been sent flying because she was ready. The instant the tags detonated, a barrier of swirling flames surged up before her — a shield of heat and pressure that absorbed the explosion's force.
Jinpachi steadied himself, narrowing his eyes.
Mereoleona grinned, fire dancing along her arms like living serpents.
And so began an explosive, devastating clash between Jinpachi's Shibuki and Mereoleona — fire meeting detonations in a battle that lit up the mist-covered battlefield.
…
Benimaru tore through his section of the battlefield like a streak of blue fire. Moving with blistering speed, he sliced through Kirigakure shinobi one after another. Each swing of his sword left a trail of scorching light, and any ninja struck by his blade was instantly reduced to smoldering charcoal.
From time to time, he snapped his fingers or flicked his wrist, releasing small spheres of condensed blue flame. The moment they touched the ground, they detonated in wide semi-spherical bursts, engulfing everything in their radius. Screams echoed through the mist as those flames — hotter and more lethal than ordinary orange ninjutsu fire — consumed entire clusters of enemy shinobi.
Benimaru was on a rampage, an unstoppable inferno blazing across the battlefield.
But it didn't last.
A streak of light cut through his path, and a massive twin-handled sword swung toward him with terrifying force. Benimaru twisted out of the way, skidding across the ground as the blade embedded itself in the earth, shaking the terrain.
Standing behind it was a tall figure with calm, sharp eyes.
Shigure Kozuki — the new wielder of Hiramekarei.
A newly appointed member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.
Benimaru's flames flickered hotter as he faced his new opponent.
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