"Just now… that was… a clone?"
Hanzō forced out a ragged breath, asking with difficulty.
"A clone," Kyoichi replied without hesitation.
What had been blown to pieces by those forty-plus explosive tags just now was nothing more than one of his earth clones.
"But how could a mere clone withstand the restraint of my chains?"
Hanzō's brow furrowed in disbelief.
The endurance of a clone was limited. Be it Shadow Clone, Water Clone, or Earth Clone—the principle was the same. Once they suffered an impact exceeding their threshold, the chakra balance within would collapse, and the clone would dissipate. Yet the impact from the iron-weighted chain he had thrown far surpassed the limit to break any clone with a single strike.
If it truly was a clone…
It should have shattered instantly.
"That," Kyoichi said flatly, "is my secret. And I won't tell you."
Even now, he offered not the slightest leak. He had no intention of letting Hanzō die understanding.
Not that his lips were sealed as though welded shut in molten iron—but the truth was this: his earth clone had only been able to endure that kind of overwhelming impact because of the Eye of God, which had granted him an extraordinary affinity for, and mastery over, the earth element. Augmented further by sage chakra, the clone possessed far greater durability than ordinary ones.
It was enough to deceive Hanzō's sharp eyes—
And in the end, it gave Kyoichi the opening his true body needed for a successful strike.
Without such preparation, slaying the infamous Hanzō of the Salamander through direct combat alone was no simple feat. Even working together with Nagato, it would likely have come down to exhausting Hanzō's chakra to the very end. From Hanzō's timely counters and ruthless retaliation just moments ago, one could already see the depth of his tenacity and skill!
That Hanzō fell to Kyoichi's stratagem came down to one thing—
lack of information.
Hanzō knew too little of Kyoichi.
While Kyoichi, from the mouths of Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato, had learned much of Hanzō. That gap turned the battle into one of preparation against unawareness.
Furthermore—Hanzō was outnumbered two to one, with Nagato drawing away most of his attention, leaving openings for Kyoichi.
And lastly, after such a long fight, Hanzō's chakra reserves were deeply depleted, his state inevitably declining.
All these factors combined, sealing the fate of Hanzō.
Of course, Kyoichi had not entered this battle with the single-minded intent to kill Hanzō. But since this was, after all, the Land of Rain, his creed of "better safe than sorry" demanded thorough preparation in case of the unexpected.
"Cough… cough…"
Hanzō tried to turn his head, to see the face of the one who had taken his life. But his body could no longer obey. Even the single breath he clung to had its limits. No matter how formidable a shinobi, he was still human.
He was no monster like the First Hokage.
And even the First Hokage—hadn't he, too, died?
"It was me… I was careless!!"
Hanzō muttered, leaving behind this short and bitter final regret.
Then his head slumped forward. His breath ceased.
"Haaah…"
Kyoichi exhaled heavily, slowly drawing his bloodied blade from the corpse. Without support, Hanzō's body collapsed to the ground.
At that very moment—
the flock of carrion crows circling in the sky beat their wings westward. The few surviving Ame elites dared not linger a second longer, driving their mounts into frantic flight.
"Nagato, aren't we going after him?"
Kyoichi glanced at the descending Nagato.
"No need," Nagato replied softly. "With Hanzō dead… there is nothing left to stop us."
His long fringe hung low, veiling his eyes. But anyone attentive enough could still sense it—beneath his gentle words flowed an undercurrent of lightness and joy.
His heart was at ease.
"You're right about that."
Kyoichi gave a small nod.
Unlike the Five Great Ninja Villages, Amegakure had relied on Hanzō alone to prop it up. So long as Hanzō lived, even the Five Great Villages hesitated to provoke them. But without Hanzō… Amegakure was no different from Kusagakure, Yugakure, or Shimogakure—just another small village.
Especially now, when not only Hanzō had died, but so many of Amegakure's elite jōnin had perished in one stroke. Without the deep reserves of a great village, the blow was devastating. From here on, Amegakure might never recover.
And how could they possibly resist an Akatsuki with Nagato as its trump card?
"Since you're not going to chase after them, let's head back—ah… it's raining again."
Kyoichi hadn't even finished speaking when droplets splashed upon his brow.
The rain quickly thickened, strands falling in fine sheets, weaving sky and earth together once more. Not far off, misty veils rose, obscuring the distance. Yet the real thief of vision was not the fog, but the heavy clouds above, sealing shut the crack where a sliver of moonlight had once escaped.
"Nagato, let's go."
Kyoichi retrieved a sealing scroll from his pouch, carefully storing away Hanzō's corpse, then called to his comrade.
"Go."
Nagato answered.
He watched as Kyoichi sealed Hanzō's body but made no move to interfere. For this was the shinobi's way: the one who struck the final blow held the right to dispose of the fallen foe.
Of course, as an ally, he would share in whatever gains there were.
But Nagato had little interest in Hanzō's body. Unlike Konan, who managed their organization's finances and logistics, Nagato had little sense of Akatsuki's fiscal troubles. All he cared about was this: with Hanzō gone, no one in the Land of Rain could threaten Akatsuki anymore. Yahiko and Konan would no longer have to face deadly peril.
The two returned in silence, the rain drumming upon them all the way.
When they reached the ruined village,
they were greeted by fluttering white paper butterflies dancing in the rain.
"That's Konan's technique," Nagato explained, his voice soft. "Everyone knows we're back."
Sure enough, when they arrived at the village gate, many figures awaited them—Dazen, Seinosuke, Yūsuke, Yahiko, and Konan all present.
"Akase is dead. Hanzō is dead as well."
Before anyone could ask, Kyoichi spoke first, dropping the news like a hammer. A reassurance of victory, perhaps—but one with too much force. Instead of calming the crowd, it was like cold water poured into boiling oil—
and at once, their emotions exploded.