"Blue... steam?"
The Mizukage, shrouded in icy mist, gazed at the sky.
Might Dai, who had been on the verge of death moments ago, was now enveloped in a swirling aura of blue steam.
The frost covering his body melted away under the intense heat radiating from him.
The sheer volume of chakra erupting from him was staggering—so dense it resembled tangible steam.
"What astonishing chakra..."
Such overwhelming, physical chakra.
Was this man really not a jinchūriki?
BOOM!
Might Dai landed on the ground with a deafening impact.
The shockwave from his landing dispersed much of the surrounding mist, revealing his crimson-stained body.
"But what difference does it make?"
If the Mizukage had nearly killed him once, he could do it again.
Just as the Mizukage dismissed any possibility of defeat, his eyes widened, pupils contracting in shock.
"YOUTHFUL TORNADO!!"
Might Dai planted one foot firmly on the ground, balancing like a golden rooster, and began spinning at blinding speed.
His rotation accelerated rapidly.
The sheer force of his movement alone whipped up a violent gale.
Soon, a tornado formed around him, uncontrollably sucking in the surrounding mist.
The white tornado grew, tearing chunks of earth from the ground.
The Mizukage's robes flapped wildly as the cyclone threatened to pull him in.
How could a taijutsu specialist achieve something like this?
By the time the tornado had absorbed all the mist,
Might Dai came to a stop, kneeling with his hands gripping the earth.
Yet the tornado persisted, swirling around him like a living storm.
"Against a Kage... only the Eighth Gate offers hope of victory."
That was Might Dai's conviction.
Participating in battle and winning were two entirely different things.
He had a clear understanding of his current limits—but the full extent of his power remained uncertain.
"But Lord Orochimaru gave me strict orders... I cannot open the Eighth Gate."
Before the battle, Orochimaru had forbidden him from using the Eighth Gate under threat of expulsion from the shinobi forces.
No matter how desperately Might Dai had pleaded, bawling and staining Orochimaru's clothes with snot and tears,
The order stood firm.
Though he didn't understand Orochimaru's reasoning,
he had no choice but to suppress his burning desire to unleash his full potential.
At most, the Seventh Gate wouldn't be enough to defeat the Mizukage.
But he would fight with everything he had.
"What are you saying?!"
The Mizukage shielded himself from the wind, catching sight of Might Dai's lips moving.
No matter.
"Die here!!"
The Mizukage's hands completed a series of seals.
This was his strongest technique.
"Water Release!"
A jutsu formed from water at freezing temperatures—a touch alone was lethal.
A white halo materialized above his head.
A beam of frigid energy surged toward Might Dai.
This was the power that had earned him the title of Mizukage.
Even the Mist shinobi revered this strength.
At that moment, Might Dai moved.
He leaped into the air, the tornado lifting with him, its trajectory shifting.
It propelled him forward—
straight toward the Mizukage.
"Mist Dragon!!"
"EXTREME FREEZE!!"
The colossal dragon of mist roared, its claws shredding the white beam.
"Impossible...!"
The Third Mizukage's face twisted in disbelief.
The dragon was upon him, jaws gaping wide.
No time to react. No time to flee.
A Kage—cornered!
Just as despair took hold—
A flash of crimson flickered in his pupils.
BOOM!!!
The dragon struck the earth, carving a bottomless crater.
Might Dai landed outside it, collapsing to his knees.
"Too much... even for the Seventh Gate."
His body had rebelled against him.
Darkness swallowed his vision as he lost consciousness.
From the settling dust and mist, the Mizukage emerged unharmed.
He stared coldly at the fallen Might Dai.
"An astonishing shinobi... 'Blue Steam,' was it?"
The tomoe in his eyes spun lazily.
Then, sensing movement in the distance, he smirked.
"Might Dai... we'll meet again."
With that, his form dissolved into white mist.
Lan appeared beside Might Dai, checking his pulse.
Relief washed over him.
"He's alive."
His gaze shifted toward the distant battlefield, where explosions still echoed.
Earlier, on the main battlefield...
The standoff between five had become six.
Tension hung thick in the air—no one dared make the first move.
Orochimaru licked his lips.
"Lord Kages... aren't you afraid we'll keep you here permanently?"
Even he found the taunt audacious, but psychological warfare had its uses.
"Keep us here?" Ōnoki scoffed. "Don't be absurd. Your forces here are nothing."
Not a single Iwa-nin had been diverted from the frontlines.
A glance at the silent Kazekage confirmed the same for Suna.
Two Kages and Hanzo the Salamander—more than enough to tip the scales.
The Konoha forces here were outmatched.
"Jiraiya, aren't you worried your absence will let Iwa break through your defenses?" Ōnoki challenged.
Jiraiya grinned.
"With or without me, you'll never breach our lines."
Iwa's strength lay in numbers, not decisive power.
"Enough talk. Kill them, and Konoha falls," the Kazekage snapped.
Suna had suffered heavy losses against the White Fang. Now, Tsunade dominated their frontlines.
Of the great villages, Suna had fared the worst.
Their puppet brigade was decimated.
Rebuilding would take years.
This ambush was less about victory and more about dragging Konoha down with them.
"Then why don't you go first?" Ōnoki retorted.
The Kazekage fell silent. Without Ōnoki's support, he feared betrayal.
Ōnoki harbored the same distrust.
Even Hanzo hesitated.
The three were as wary of each other as they were of Tsunade, Orochimaru, and Jiraiya.
This battle was a farce.
BOOM!!!
A distant explosion rocked the earth, followed by a shockwave.
In that instant, all six moved.
The battlefield fractured into one-on-one duels.
Orochimaru faced the Kazekage, tongue flicking eagerly.
Jiraiya grinned up at Ōnoki, hovering in the sky.
Tsunade locked eyes with Hanzo, her expression unreadable.
The war had truly begun.
...
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(End of Chapter)