The other ninjas who managed to escape had already consumed a tremendous amount of physical energy due to Uchiha Haru's earlier release of Wood Release: Tree World Descent.
Just as they thought they had found safety, they looked around—and their eyes widened in disbelief.
What had once been an open, spacious battlefield had transformed into a dense, towering forest in the blink of an eye.
The abrupt change was nothing short of shocking, as if they had been cast into another world. Many of them couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of monster could cast a jutsu of this scale instantaneously.
Fear crept into their hearts.
Even if they had managed to survive, the question remained—how much longer could they last? Most of them were beginning to realize the painful truth: they had no chance of resisting Uchiha Haru.
And before they could even catch their breath—he moved again.
Within this vast forest born from his chakra, every tree, every branch, every vine, and even every leaf became an extension of Uchiha Haru himself.
Under his chakra control, the forest was him. His hands. His feet. His eyes.
Here—he was a god.
At his command, the forest came alive. Vines slithered across the ground like snakes, branches stretched unnaturally toward the fleeing shinobi, wrapping, binding, constricting.
Within moments, countless members of the Allied Shinobi Forces were ensnared by the living forest, their bodies trapped and rendered useless. They struggled, screamed, fought—but it was meaningless. None could break free.
And yet, none were killed.
This was restraint.
If Uchiha Haru had desired it—if he had exerted just a fraction more pressure—the vines would have tightened and crushed bone, torn muscle, burst organs. Blood would have sprayed in all directions, and death would have claimed them on the spot.
But he held back.
Because he didn't hate them.
These shinobi were here because of the orders of their leaders. They were tools—victims of circumstance.
But that didn't mean he would forgive them.
When the war ended, they would be treated as prisoners of war. They would face punishment. Judgment. And redemption—if they lived long enough to seek it.
There were still things they needed to answer for.
So, while Uchiha Haru restrained the bulk of the Allied Shinobi Forces, he had already moved on to his next battle—facing the combined assault of the Third Tsuchikage (Ōnoki), Chiyo, and the Fourth Raikage (A).
Three Kage-level titans.
Three legends.
And Haru faced them alone.
Their combined might descended on him without hesitation.
Ōnoki unleashed his strongest technique—Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique—a blinding cube of pure disintegration.
Chiyo deployed her personal puppet corps, each a masterpiece of destruction honed through decades of war.
And the Fourth Raikage surged forward, his body clad in crackling lightning—his Lightning Release Chakra Mode raised to its peak.
Their combined offensive was enough to devastate a small nation.
But Haru did not falter. He stood calm.
Because to him—it was all too slow.
Just as the attacks converged, he performed the Flying Thunder God Technique.
In a blink, he vanished—no hand seals, no warning. Where he had stood now flickered with several shadowy afterimages.
Each flicker looked like him.
Each one could have been him.
And none of them could be touched.
Not even Kage-level opponents could pin him down like this.
Ōnoki's Dust Release shattered the earth. Chiyo's puppets struck with deadly precision. The Fourth Raikage's speed cracked the air itself.
But they hit nothing.
Bang!
A deafening explosion shook the battlefield. Where Haru had once stood, a crater several meters deep had formed, the surrounding terrain utterly destroyed.
Thick gray smoke blanketed the air, hiding everything from view.
But even without seeing him, everyone knew—Uchiha Haru was fine.
Because a power like his couldn't be erased so easily.
As the dust began to clear, a lone figure stood at the center of the devastation.
Unharmed. Unmoved.
They spared no effort or chakra, unleashing their most powerful ninjutsu.
Uchiha Haru stood there, motionless. Despite their relentless assault, they couldn't even touch a single strand of his hair. They couldn't force him back a single step.
After more than ten full-force attacks, the three were left panting, sweat trickling down their faces.
Especially Chiyo and the Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki.
They were old. They could still exert peak strength in short bursts of combat, but their stamina and chakra reserves couldn't match those of their younger days. As time wore on, their power would only diminish.
And now, after launching wave after wave of ninjutsu with no visible effect on Uchiha Haru, their chakra was running dangerously low.
They knew this couldn't continue.
They had to change tactics.
Their eyes remained locked on Uchiha Haru, who hadn't moved an inch.
They realized he was allowing them to strike freely.
If he wanted to, Uchiha Haru could have counterattacked at any moment during the gaps between their jutsu.
Was this a game to him?
The three Kage-level shinobi were boiling with frustration and rage, but anger did nothing.
Uchiha Haru's strength was undeniable. No matter how much it infuriated them, they couldn't ignore the terrifying truth: he was simply too strong.
Even with all three of them combining their power, none of them felt confident they could defeat him. Deep down, they all knew they would lose.
Fortunately, defeating him wasn't their mission today.
They were here to stall him. To buy time.
With that in mind, Chiyo summoned her puppets and charged in for close-quarters combat.
The Fourth Raikage, A, also launched himself at Haru, relying on his lightning-cloaked taijutsu.
Based on what they had observed so far, it was clear: Uchiha Haru wasn't trying to kill them outright.
He was using them—as sparring partners. A whetstone to hone his skills.
Earlier, their ninjutsu had depleted large portions of their chakra. They couldn't afford to continue long-range bombardments.
So they switched to taijutsu, conserving energy.
Only Ōnoki remained aloft, floating high in the air, biding his time for a decisive strike.
Among the three, Ōnoki possessed the most destructive single-hit potential. If his Dust Release connected, even Uchiha Haru would suffer.
And so, the battle resumed in earnest.
Puppets swarmed in from all directions. Lightning surged as the Fourth Raikage blurred across the battlefield.
And Uchiha Haru? He remained relaxed.
Completely at ease. Effortless.
He moved only when necessary, dodging attacks with minimal effort, parrying with casual grace. There was no strain, no tension in his movements.
But even as he dominated, he didn't strike to kill. He didn't even press for a quick victory over Chiyo or the Fourth Raikage.
It was like a cat toying with mice.
Several times, he had clear openings—chances to strike critical blows. But he passed on them.
This was still the opening act. No need to end the play so soon.
From the sidelines, Konoha's shinobi watched in awe, blood pumping with excitement.
One man. Standing against the full force of the Allied Shinobi Forces. Facing three Kage-level titans in direct combat, and not falling behind.
This was the kind of scene that would be recorded in the history books.
And yet, even now, Uchiha Haru was holding back.
That fact alone left people speechless.
The battle raged on.
Eventually, Uchiha Haru struck out with a single punch, forcing both Chiyo and the Fourth Raikage back at the same time.
And then, from above, Ōnoki struck.
His hands weaved the necessary seals. The light condensed into a glowing cube.
Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique.
A beam of pure disintegration descended.
But Uchiha Haru didn't dodge.
He made a single hand sign and responded with a fire-style technique.
Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique.
A basic C-rank ninjutsu.
In the Uchiha clan, even children fresh out of the Academy could cast it.
But this time, that ordinary jutsu exploded with unimaginable force.
A massive sphere of fire roared upward, colliding head-on with Ōnoki's Dust Release.
The sky ignited. Flames howled. Heat waves rippled outward in crushing waves.
And the Dust Release—the most feared kekkei tōta in Iwagakure—was pushed back.
Not only did Haru's Great Fireball neutralize the attack, but its power kept surging. The flames expanded, threatening to engulf everything in their path.
Ōnoki barely escaped, flying higher to avoid being scorched alive.
Everyone watching was struck speechless.
A basic fire-style technique had gone head-to-head with one of the deadliest jutsu in the world—and won.
This was Uchiha Haru.
A shinobi who could turn a C-rank ninjutsu into a cataclysm.
This kind of power defied understanding.
Power that hadn't been seen before. Power that might never be seen again.
Ōnoki, Chiyo, and the Fourth Raikage regrouped, standing together once more.
Their expressions were grim, their breath heavy.
All three stared at Haru, who stood calmly not far away, utterly unscathed.
Compared to when they had first witnessed him tear through the Allied Shinobi Forces, their awe now was even deeper.
Back then, they had marveled at his ability to dominate an army.
But now, after facing him head-on, they understood.
What they had seen before hadn't even scratched the surface.
Even in this battle, Uchiha Haru wasn't using his full power.
They could feel it—undeniably.
He wasn't serious.
He was still holding back.
Three Kage-level shinobi were giving everything they had, yet they couldn't even force Uchiha Haru to draw his true blade.
That realization was enough to crush hope.
Enough to make even the strongest despair.
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