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"Wood Release: Great Forest Technique!"
Uchiha Haru formed a series of hand seals, and more than ten thick vines burst forth from his arms like snakes springing from a den.
These branches, conjured by advanced Wood Release, were several times tougher and more durable than the previous vines summoned through Wood Release: Deep Forest Emergence.
On the night of the Uchiha Clan's massacre, this technique alone had driven the elite of the Root organization into a corner, forcing them to rely on the forbidden Izanagi to survive.
Now, the head of the Kaguya Clan stood against the same technique, and yet his expression remained unfazed.
Just like before.
With fluid, rhythmic sweeps of the bone sword in his hand, he cleaved through the vines effortlessly.
Steel-hard and previously unbreakable, the vines snapped apart with the same clean, precise arcs.
No hesitation. No strain. No difference.
Such a blade—such bone—was terrifying.
"Shikotsumyaku... fascinating," Haru muttered, lips curling into a faint smile.
He remembered vividly drawing this bloodline ability during his simulation. The brutal elegance, the sheer deadliness of it.
And now, to see it again, wielded to such deadly effect by another—how could he not be intrigued?
Still, the bloodline inherited by this Kaguya clan leader, while impressive, was incomplete.
It lacked the ultimate evolution of the Shikotsumyaku.
A shame.
The Kaguya leader darted forward, and in a split second, he was on Haru.
A gleam of pride flashed in the man's eyes.
He had absolute faith in his taijutsu, and rightfully so.
Backed by his Kekkei Genkai, the bone manipulation of Shikotsumyaku, no ordinary shinobi could withstand him in close quarters.
From the side, the other Kaguya clansmen began grinning in anticipation.
They knew what was coming.
In the Third Great Ninja War, they had seen this scene play out countless times.
Their clan leader would get close—just once—and that would be the end of the battle.
Bodies would be impaled on bone spurs, blood gushing, flesh tearing. Death swift and final.
But this time, something unexpected happened.
The smug smiles froze on their faces.
Because in that crucial instant, the black-robed man vanished.
All that remained were afterimages, flickering and warping with dizzying speed.
He didn't simply move fast.
No, even the Kaguya clan leader, who had trained to sense and exploit movement, couldn't track it.
It was like Haru flickered between reality and illusion.
The Kaguya leader stabbed three times in rapid succession—each strike precise, each one a kill shot.
Each time, he struck nothing.
Every target he hit dissipated into shimmering illusion.
All afterimages.
Not a single real body.
Unbelievable.
A flicker of disbelief crossed the Kaguya leader's face.
In all his years of brutal, blood-soaked combat, he had never encountered something like this.
He was certain he had struck flesh, that his blades had pierced true.
But nothing.
No resistance. No blood. No impact.
Just illusion.
High above, Haru glided smoothly, switching seamlessly between reality and shadow.
Watching.
Analyzing.
Waiting for a flaw.
It would be false to say the Kaguya leader was weak.
On the contrary, he was a Kage-level threat.
And not just any Kage-level—among the elite.
Especially in taijutsu.
With the power of Shikotsumyaku, he held a deadly advantage.
He might even surpass Killer Bee in close combat.
Of course, this referred to the version of Killer Bee before he transformed into his tailed beast state.
But none of it mattered.
Because he was facing Uchiha Haru.
Someone who stood above Kage-level.
A being who stood at the threshold of super-Kage.
Someone who could destroy from afar with Wood Release.
Who could trap the mind with his Sharingan illusions.
Who could obliterate with a single strike from the Eighty Gods Vacuum Attack.
But Haru didn't use any of those.
Because he didn't need them.
Because the Kaguya clan was a warrior clan.
Bloodlust and battle-lust ran through their veins.
To conquer them, defeat wasn't enough.
You had to crush them.
To bring them to heel, you had to outdo them in the only thing they valued:
Taijutsu.
And so, Haru would beat their strongest member at the one thing they held sacred.
Combat.
When the Kaguya clan leader thrust and missed, revealing a brief opening,
Haru surged downward.
His heel struck like thunder.
Boom!
The Kaguya leader crashed into the earth, a plume of dust erupting around him.
Yet, no sooner did he hit the ground than he sprang back up.
Undeterred. Relentless.
Bone blade gleaming, he attacked again.
Haru blurred.
Body Flicker Technique.
Once more, only phantoms remained.
Phantom. Phantom. Still a phantom.
No matter how the Kaguya clan leader attacked, the result was always the same—he couldn't land a single hit on Uchiha Haru.
Haru seized every opening to strike back, delivering blow after blow. And although the Kaguya patriarch's Shikotsumyaku protected him from injury, the whole scene was undeniably humiliating.
He attacked relentlessly, only to be knocked down again and again, as though he were utterly powerless.
The Kaguya clan members watching from the sidelines were overwhelmed by despair.
He was right there—right in front of them. So close. And yet he couldn't be touched.
How the hell do you fight that?
Even the Kaguya patriarch himself began to grow irritated.
Still, he forced himself to remain calm, quietly analyzing the situation.
A battle between shinobi isn't decided by power alone.
Experience, adaptability, situational awareness—these also shape the outcome.
Every time he stabbed, it turned out to be a phantom.
And those he didn't strike? They were the real body.
It couldn't be coincidence.
The Kaguya patriarch narrowed his eyes, gripping his bone spear tighter, his mind whirring.
He had more than enough experience fighting powerful enemies to recognize patterns others would miss.
After several exchanges, he reached a terrifying realization.
It wasn't that he kept stabbing the wrong one.
It was that every time he stabbed, that target was guaranteed to be a phantom.
And the ones he didn't stab? Always real.
This wasn't probability. This wasn't bad luck.
This was fact.
When Uchiha Haru activated this jutsu, it rendered him untouchable.
What an absurd technique.
The Kaguya patriarch was reminded of a terrifying figure from the Third Great Ninja War—a name that haunted veterans across all five nations.
Shunshin no Shisui.
He had turned that warzone into a nightmare with his mastery of the Body Flicker Technique.
So fast, so elusive, even elite jōnin couldn't react. He would appear, land a fatal blow, and vanish again, leaving only blood behind.
Now, someone else had mastered this technique—or perhaps something even more refined.
But that wasn't the point now.
What mattered was: how the hell do you break it?
Every major village had studied Body Flicker after Shisui's rampage.
Their conclusion? It couldn't be countered with ninjutsu.
That was the bitter truth hidden behind the infamous war slogan:
"If you see Shunshin Shisui, run. The farther the better."
"Unbreakable ninjutsu, huh..."
"Tch. What a pain in the ass."
The Kaguya patriarch's expression grew grim. If it couldn't be broken by jutsu, then he'd have to try another way.
Bang!
He was knocked to the ground again.
But this time, he didn't spring up immediately.
He rose slowly, deliberately, with an expression of mockery twisting his face.
"Uchiha Haru... is that all you've got?"
"Besides running, what can you even do? Your punches are so soft, even the women in my clan hit harder."
"Got the balls to face me head-on? Or is that too much for a pampered Uchiha prince?"
A crude provocation. Obvious to anyone with a brain.
A desperate tactic from someone who had no other options.
And yet... despite how blatant it was, it just might work.
The more obvious a strategy, the more likely it is to bait a response.
Especially against someone like Uchiha Haru—young, proud, powerful.
He was like a newly-forged sword. Razor sharp. Deadly.
But also easily drawn.
Kaguya wasn't betting that Haru wouldn't see through the trick.
He was betting that even if he did, he'd still rise to it.
And when Haru smiled faintly in reply, he knew he'd taken the bait.
"You want a real fight?"
"Fine."
He wasn't acting out of rage. Not even close.
Haru agreed because he had the strength to back it up.
He could beat the Kaguya patriarch in every possible way.
The Shikotsumyaku was powerful, yes.
But Haru had inherited the complete Ōtsutsuki physique.
In legend, the descendants of Kaguya Ōtsutsuki split her divine power.
The Uchiha and Hyūga took her eyes.
The Senju inherited her body.
The Uzumaki, her chakra.
The Kaguya clan? A fragment of her bone-based techniques.
But Haru wasn't a mere descendant.
He had the whole package.
Speed. Reflexes. Strength. Chakra. Regeneration.
Flawless.
The Kaguya clan Shikotsumyaku was just a sliver of Kaguya's might.
In Haru's eyes, it was nothing.
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