Nonō Yakushi's Konoha forehead protector had long since been soaked red with blood.
Pushing forward through the howling sands, she gritted her teeth against the wind. Three shuriken had embedded deep into her left shoulder, and behind her, Sunagakure's pursuit squad was closing in.
"Just a few more minutes… Talking with Sasori of the Red Sand cost me precious time."
She was certain death was close, but her heart remained calm. It was the mark of a top-tier infiltration shinobi.
"If I can get this intel back to the front lines… we might be able to shorten this war with Suna. Even one day sooner means fewer dead. That's enough."
Suddenly, a violent surge of wind kicked up a dense sandstorm, blinding her in all directions. The air turned sharp as knives—sand tearing into her exposed skin, slashing her visibility to near zero.
Two puppets emerged silently from the swirling dust, their jaws snapping open to unleash acidic mist meant to melt her flesh down to bone.
She could barely keep her eyes open, only barely evading through instinct alone. A scorpion-like tail burst from beneath the sand and punched through her side, worsening her already grim condition.
"A lone spy thinks they can escape? You must be delusional."
The captain of the Suna pursuit team sneered down at her from atop a cliff wall, hands locked in a long-seal—the sudden sandstorm clearly his doing.
"Hand over the intel you stole from the village. I'll grant you a clean death. That's the best mercy you'll get… after daring to approach Sasori, our hidden jewel of genius."
"I'm not handing you anything."
Nonō glanced around the ring of twelve Suna shinobi closing in on her, then focused on the sandstorm user—Sabaku Araki.
She recalled his file clearly. A wind country native who'd mastered the art of creating localized sandstorms—a terrifyingly effective technique in desert terrain.
"Suna really does have its fair share of talented shinobi."
Without warning, she crushed a small glass vial concealed in her sleeve, covering her nose and mouth as she retreated. A burst of violet gas erupted into the sandstorm, spreading fast.
Araki scoffed.
"You think I came unprepared? You're a medic-nin from Konoha—I've already analyzed your kind."
He formed another seal, redirecting the sand to sweep the poisonous gas in a single direction.
"This is Salamander Poison. Not Hanzo's strain—but it'll kill Konoha ninja all the same."
Nonō held her breath tight. She knew all too well—salamander poison could be absorbed through the pores as well. There was no room for mistakes.
"The gas wasn't meant to kill you," she thought, "It's a signal—for my backup. As long as I'm still useful, they won't abandon me."
WHOOSH!
Three undead sprinted into the battle at reckless speed, bodies tearing themselves apart with each movement, pushing past human physical limits.
The Suna shinobi recognized them instantly. Grins broke out across their faces.
"That's the Death Soul Technique! It's that Konoha ninja's jutsu!"
Araki's lips curled into a grin of opportunity.
"Perfect. We planned to use this spy as bait—never thought we'd catch a bonus."
He knew Chiyo had her eyes on Tsukasa Kaede. As a veteran jōnin, Araki had access to critical intel—and he'd begun piecing together Suna's secret human puppet experiments.
"Eliminate the three undead at range! They're probably rigged with explosive tags!"
He thrust out his hand.
"Magnet Release: Sand Dust Rain!"
Blades of compressed sand formed midair and shredded the zombies into ribbons.
One—its spine broken, lower body useless—still swung its arms feebly. The other two were inert, their skulls obliterated.
Araki frowned. No explosion?
"Looks like Tsukasa's adapted—he's changed his usual tactics. Not that it'll help him."
With a dismissive snort, he ordered his squad to close in on the others. Two more puppets shot forward with metallic clatters, charging Tsukasa's squad.
"Good news," Tsukasa muttered. "The target's still alive. Bad news? We're outnumbered."
He opened his eyes calmly. The loss of three zombies didn't even register as concern. He had more.
Unrolling a scroll, Tsukasa instantly summoned two fresh undead. He'd also buried two backup zombies—one fifty meters, another one hundred and fifty meters away—just in case.
Terai, watching it all unfold, analyzed Tsukasa sharply.
"So your Death Soul Jutsu gives you battlefield awareness? Hmph… no wonder Suna's rolling out the red carpet."
Terai, an elite jōnin, led the charge toward Nonō. The Konoha team's goal was simple: secure the target and the intel.
As expected, Terai faced Araki directly, while Tsukasa and the others moved to support and retrieve Nonō.
Tsukasa stayed behind his summoned undead, letting them absorb the brunt of attacks. Standard formation—medics and sensors were meant to be shielded.
But the enemy knew this too. They went for him first.
Fire clashed with lightning. Wind met sand. A dozen jutsu lit up the wasteland.
Seeing the puppet master briefly distracted, Tsukasa advanced one of his undead—then detonated it point-blank.
Unlike before, I'm not broke anymore. I'm a chūnin now. I've got access to explosive tags, and I intend to use them. Every bone gets one.
BOOM!
A deafening blast tore a hole through the sandstorm, forming a momentary vacuum of silence. One Suna shinobi vanished in a mist of shredded flesh.
No one flinched. They were too busy trying to kill each other.
"Tsukasa! Watch out—it's you they're after!" Nonō shouted.
Tsukasa didn't react. He already knew.
Suna ninja closed in from all directions.
Araki, using his environment advantage to the fullest, began redirecting vast amounts of sand, burning chakra like mad.
Like Sakumo Hatake, Terai was a close-quarters expert—not suited for wide-area control. Araki, meanwhile, created a sand vortex, trapping Tsukasa where he stood.
"Got him." Araki smirked.
But Tsukasa didn't panic. Not even a twitch.
Hands formed a seal. The moment enemy taijutsu fighters closed in—
SWOOSH.
He vanished.
In his place stood the spine-shattered zombie, forming its own seals in perfect sync.
And Tsukasa himself—
—reappeared ten meters behind Araki, standing exactly where that zombie had once been.
Their eyes met.
Araki's face froze in abject terror.
"...Hiraishin?!"