Unlike the cheering shinobi around him, the Third Raikage's expression had grown grim.
He couldn't mistake the sensation he felt on impact.
Whatever he struck just now—that wasn't normal flesh.
Did Arata have another bloodline ability?
That black coating earlier—could it have been some variation of magnetic manipulation?
As the dust where Arata landed finally cleared, his silhouette came into view.
And the Kumogakure shinobi who moments ago were celebrating suddenly fell silent—
as if someone had grabbed them all by the throat.
Arata had been sent flying, yes—but only because he hadn't fully braced himself.
He hadn't even activated his Lightning Armor yet.
And the Third Raikage's attack had been terrifying—powerful enough to threaten even a super-Kage.
Yet Arata had taken it head-on, relying purely on the durability of his body.
His arms were marked with a gash, blood trickling down…
but considering he had just endured the Raikage's strongest piercing strike,
that wound was practically nothing.
Most of the credit belonged to his Armament Haki—
now refined enough that his defense had risen several tiers.
Without it, even his reinforced body would never dare meet that Hellstab directly.
After all, he had trained his taijutsu using Garp's principles for just over a year—even counting the accelerated training time in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber.
Give Arata another decade or two, and maybe even raw flesh alone could tank that strike.
Seeing Arata stand there as if unharmed shocked the Raikage to his core.
The blood on Arata's hands didn't even register—
the simple fact that his ultimate jutsu hadn't killed the target
meant that he had lost the exchange.
Then green medical chakra glowed along Arata's hands.
Minor cuts like these healed in seconds under his practiced medical jutsu.
The Raikage's expression hardened further.
He raised his voice and commanded sharply:
"Everyone, fall back! This is not a battle you can take part in!"
Kumogakure's ten thousand elite shinobi existed only because the village had avoided large-scale wars for years.
If he didn't order a retreat now, Arata could slaughter them freely—
and rebuilding such a force would take decades.
So the moment he realized Arata was too dangerous,
the Raikage's first instinct was to protect his people.
It was the same resolve he would show years later—
standing alone against ten thousand enemies for three days and nights
to give his comrades time to escape.
Whatever else could be said about him,
the Third Raikage understood responsibility far better than some other Kage.
Arata didn't interfere with Kumogakure's retreat.
Not out of mercy alone—but because killing ten thousand individually would take an entire day,
and the Raikage would absolutely strike the moment he left an opening.
And there were still two Jinchūriki on the way.
Handling three Kage-level opponents at once was already pushing the limits;
wasting time on a mass slaughter was pointless.
Besides—Arata suspected that Sarutobi Sasuke was already somewhere nearby.
If so, he'd soon face another peak-Kage threat.
In that situation, chasing down Kumogakure's army would be a foolish risk.
His recent training had boosted his strength enormously,
but he wasn't deluded—he hadn't reached the top of the super-Kage tier yet.
At best, he sat at the early stage.
Seeing Arata let them leave—and with the Raikage's order ringing out—
the Kumogakure shinobi hurriedly withdrew toward their temporary camp near the Land of Fields.
The Raikage didn't know Arata's reasoning—
he only saw a warrior who chose not to strike a retreating enemy.
He gave a faint nod of respect.
"You're impressive. Far more honorable than Sarutobi Hiruzen. Even if you lose today, I'll make sure you have a proper burial."
Arata laughed at that and replied:
"I remember they call you the fastest man in the shinobi world, don't they?"
The Raikage didn't boast.
After witnessing Arata's movement, he knew the boy's speed wasn't inferior to his own.
"Your speed isn't bad either," he admitted.
Arata shook his head.
"In battle, there's no 'tie'—only first and second. Let's see who's really the fastest."
The Raikage grinned, fully agreeing.
"Well said! I've always wanted to test whether Konoha's Blue Lightning actually lives up to its name!"
He didn't add the last part aloud:
I once split actual lightning with my own hand.
Arata inhaled sharply and shouted:
"Lightning Armor—First Gear!"
Blue lightning engulfed him.
Deep blue arcs snapped across his skin, and the air around him grew hotter.
The scene looked eerily similar to the Raikage's own jutsu.
Which only proved Sarutobi Hiruzen's intelligence reports were right—
Arata might have copied Kumogakure's legendary Thunder Style Armor.
But then Arata's body began to transform into lightning itself—
something no user of Thunder Style Armor had ever done.
That jutsu was still armor—
chakra coating the flesh, boosting muscle output and durability.
But becoming lightning outright?
That was something else entirely—
a jutsu beyond the limits of the Raikage's style.
One glance was enough for the Raikage to understand:
Arata hadn't stolen their jutsu.
He had created something beyond Thunder Style Armor.
Arata looked at the stunned Raikage and reminded him:
"Here it comes."
The Raikage immediately shut out all distractions,
focusing every sense on Arata.
He exhaled once—and then roared:
"Haah!"
And in the next instant, he vanished into a streak of motion.
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