Arata surveyed the damage he'd caused and still felt a twinge of dissatisfaction.
After all, even Deidara's self-detonation could blast a ten-kilometer crater into the earth.
His Thunder God Sphere might not reach that scale, but its raw force was unquestionably higher.
He could sense the Two-Tails trying to retreat, but something even bigger demanded his attention now. There was no chance he'd be able to chase down Yuyekka or the Raikage.
Turning toward the center of the Thunder God Sphere's blast, Arata watched as the Eight-Tails jinchūriki—Blue B—vanished completely.
What stood there instead was a towering, red-violet ox-demon, eight massive tails whipping behind it.
The Eight-Tails, Gyūki.
At this point it still had both horns—this was before the Third Raikage ever snapped one off during a rampage.
The moment Gyūki returned to the world, it roared.
"RRROOOOAAARRR!!"
For a creature just shy of the Nine-Tails in power, even a roar was apocalyptic. The ground quivered, sand blasted skyward, and the earth split into jagged fissures.
This thing was no joke—pure combat ability alone put it squarely at the peak of Kage-level. And if Gyūki fought on its own, without a jinchūriki's limits? Possibly beyond Kage-level entirely.
Arata, meanwhile, had already fired off one Thunder God Sphere. He could probably manage two more before his Lightning Armor—Second Gear collapsed entirely.
Gyūki, however, was different. True tailed beasts didn't "run low." Their chakra regenerated endlessly, faster than many Sage-level shinobi.
And since the beast was now fully manifested, Blue B's death was almost certain. Facing Arata—one of the only shinobi alive capable of meeting a Tailed Beast Bomb head-on—had sealed his fate.
Arata stared up at the titanic Eight-Tails, deep in thought.
He could defeat it. That wasn't the issue.
But should he?
Killing Gyūki would eliminate a threat—but the beast wouldn't re-form for over a decade. If Arata ever wanted to gather all the tailed beasts and become the Ten-Tails jinchūriki, a missing link would leave him waiting years.
If he let it live, he'd have to subdue it somehow… but hauling a monster this size back to Konoha wasn't exactly discreet. And without Mangekyō-level genjutsu, keeping it obedient would be almost impossible.
Leaving it here? It would just get captured by Kumogakure again.
After a moment, Arata made up his mind: subdue it first, then figure out the rest.
Worst case—knock it out and take it somewhere safe.
But even that wouldn't be easy. Gyūki was the slipperiest of the beasts, able to split off tentacle clones to escape even Mangekyō genjutsu. Arata's Observation Haki was sharp, but even he couldn't guarantee he'd catch the trick in time.
Gyūki finished its roar and immediately noticed him.
Having existed since the founding of the shinobi world, it was practically a walking encyclopedia.
The moment it saw Arata's towering Thunder God form, it froze—and spoke.
"That form…!? Susanoo? Is that Uchiha Madara's Susanoo!?"
Indra's Susanoo wasn't one Gyūki had witnessed, but Madara's—the one who had once marched on the Land of Lightning in full armor—it remembered all too well.
Back then, Gyūki had been obliterated in two strikes. If the First Raikage hadn't intervened, it would've been slain outright and forced to reincarnate decades later.
That memory twisted its beastly face into something disturbingly close to human fear.
Arata noted the expression. So the beast had seen Susanoo before. Good. His idea to model the Lightning Armor's second gear after Susanoo had clearly paid off.
If this was the first outing of the form, it was already shaking hearts.
He suspected many shinobi in the future would flinch at the sight of it without knowing why.
But Gyūki was ancient. Seconds later, it realized something was off.
"No… Madara's Susanoo was twice that height. And his was pure Yin Release… this one's made entirely of lightning?"
Arata didn't bother explaining.
He simply spoke:
"Gyūki, you've got two options: die here… or come quietly back to Konoha."
Gyūki swallowed hard. It didn't matter whether Arata or Madara was stronger—what Arata had shown so far was enough to intimidate even a tailed beast.
It opened its mouth, ready to speak—
When suddenly, a massive white crescent of chakra—nearly a hundred meters wide—sliced down from behind Arata.
His Observation Haki had sensed the attacker long before, so even while addressing Gyūki, his hand had already tightened around the sword at his waist.
Arata's expression sharpened.
A strike that size was insane. Even with Lightning Armor—Second Gear, matching its power wouldn't be trivial. Whoever unleashed it was a master swordsman beyond doubt.
He drew his blade in a single motion.
SLASH!
A gigantic arc of blue lightning ripped through the air, meeting the incoming white strike head-on. The two collided for only an instant before the white slash shattered and dissolved.
Arata's own attack kept going—tearing across nearly five kilometers, slicing a mountain ridge cleanly in half and carving a canyon into the earth.
But he knew the truth. His opponent had dodged the moment he'd moved.
If they'd been a little closer, Arata was confident he could've ended them in that first exchange.
Footsteps echoed.
An elderly figure emerged from the forest—black armor, a creased face, white hair, a katana humming with chakra.
Arata recognized him instantly.
"Sarutobi Sasuke."
The man who had once been hailed as the strongest shinobi of his generation had finally joined the battlefield.
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