A Cloud shinobi stood atop his summoned beast, his gaze fixed on Uchiha Kin.
The Thunder Ox beneath his feet struggled violently, but the more it thrashed, the deeper it sank. Seeing this opportunity, Kin didn't hesitate—he launched his attack. Darkness rapidly spread toward the Cloud shinobi, swiftly enveloping him. Hidden within the darkness, Wood Release spikes pierced his body.
The Cloud shinobi didn't even resist.
In the next moment, his figure dissipated into crackling lightning—a Lightning Clone Technique. With the shinobi's disappearance, the summoned beast also vanished in a puff of smoke.
Kin frowned as he withdrew the darkness, his Sharingan scanning the surroundings. The area had been flattened by the Thunder Ox's rampage, leaving nothing to obstruct his view. There was no trace of the Cloud shinobi anywhere.
The enemy didn't seem skilled in Earth Release either.
That left only one possibility.
"He… ran away?"
"When?"
Throughout their battle, Kin had kept his eyes locked on his opponent. While shinobi often relied on clones in combat, experienced fighters could quickly discern the use of such techniques through intuition and observation. If a jutsu produced no effect, it was likely a clone.
Thus, even if the enemy had used the Lightning Clone Technique, Kin should have noticed immediately.
Yet he hadn't detected a thing.
"Unless he performed the jutsu during the charge without interrupting it…"
Kin's brow furrowed. The enemy had been shrouded in lightning, making it impossible to see what he was doing. Kin had assumed the Cloud shinobi was maintaining the technique the entire time.
In theory, a shinobi could sustain multiple jutsu simultaneously, but the skill required far surpassed mere one-handed seals. Kin doubted his opponent possessed such ability—otherwise, the fight wouldn't have been limited to singular jutsu and swordplay.
But if the technique didn't require active maintenance…
That would explain it.
Still, this was the first time an opponent had fled mid-battle without Kin realizing it.
"My current strength is roughly on par with Orochimaru before he mastered the Basic Internal Energy Technique."
At the very least, Kin now had a clearer understanding of his own power. With this level of strength, he could hold his own against a Kage-level fighter—though victory remained out of reach.
Just then, a firework shot into the sky from a distant forest.
Whoosh—BOOM!
The explosion formed the shape of a Cloud shinobi headband.
The location wasn't far. Kin activated Shunpo and raced toward it.
By the time he arrived, the enemy was long gone. Kneeling, Kin picked up a peculiar patch of black soil.
"Gunpowder."
His gaze turned toward the main battlefield.
He wondered how things were unfolding there.
White Fang's blade severed Tōyama's body.
With his dying breath, Tōyama sighed in resignation.
"I wonder if my son will inherit this title…"
Only upon the predecessor's death could the successor claim the mantle.
Though he had ultimately fallen to White Fang, Tōyama had succeeded in delaying the legendary shinobi—albeit not as effectively as he'd hoped.
The Cloud forces had been stunned by White Fang's Conqueror's Haki, leaving many vulnerable to finishing blows from the Konoha shinobi. Fortunately, the remaining elite Cloud jōnin had inflicted significant losses in return.
As another firework exploded in the sky, the Cloud shinobi cast fleeting glances upward.
One Cloud jōnin formed hand seals and shouted,
"Lightning Release: Ten Directions Thunder Domain!"
He thrust his hands skyward, unleashing a torrent of lightning that split apart midair, transforming into countless electrified orbs that carpeted the battlefield. The resulting thunderstorm obscured the Konoha shinobi's vision.
Seizing the opportunity, the Cloud forces disengaged—some carrying unconscious comrades into the storm, others retreating alone.
The Konoha chūnin exchanged uncertain looks. The enemy had clearly received a retreat order.
All eyes turned to White Fang, awaiting his decision.
The legendary shinobi sheathed his blade—a silent command to stand down.
As the last Cloud shinobi vanished, only corpses remained.
Exhausted, many Konoha fighters collapsed to the ground, while those still standing began collecting their fallen comrades.
"We've repelled the Cloud shinobi, Lord White Fang."
Uchiha Kin appeared atop a higher tree branch, his crimson Sharingan fixed on White Fang.
"But at what cost?"
White Fang's gaze swept the battlefield. Over twenty Konoha shinobi lay dead. In a full-scale war, such losses might be negligible—but their force had numbered fewer than fifty. This was a devastating blow.
With half their strength gone, how could they continue fighting?
White Fang turned to Kin.
"The rest of this war falls to you."
He passed the responsibility to Kin. If the young Uchiha possessed stronger techniques, victory might still be possible. But if things remained as they were, eventual defeat was inevitable.
"However," White Fang mused, "it's unlikely the Cloud will deploy such a large force again."
"Oh?" Kin raised an eyebrow. "They sent three hundred shinobi this time. Why would they scale back?"
White Fang considered his words. "This was likely a test of Konoha's response. The Cloud's commitment to this conflict is shallow."
Kin understood.
The Cloud's force—three hundred shinobi, including two elite jōnin—was formidable enough to challenge any front. Their strength had nearly matched Orochimaru's initial campaign in the Land of Rain. Had White Fang not held the line with fewer than fifty shinobi, Konoha would have been forced to divert troops from other battlefields.
The Cloud would have then pinned down those reinforcements, weakening Konoha's other fronts and tipping the war's balance.
It was a blatant stratagem—one that had crumbled before it could take effect.
Now, the Cloud wouldn't dare commit further forces. Their gambit had proven Konoha capable of opening another front. The Hidden Cloud sought advantage, not all-out war.
After a year of fighting, did the other villages even want to continue?
No—they simply couldn't afford to stop.
Who knew if the enemy would press the attack the moment they withdrew?
"Still, they'll likely send small squads to harass us," White Fang noted.
If it came to skirmishes, he was confident in intercepting them.
"Let's hope this war ends soon."
His tone was calm as he regarded the fallen.
Yet he couldn't have imagined—
This war would rage on for another year.
...
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(Chapter End)