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Chapter 177 Everyone Has a Plan Until They Get Shot
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Naruto took a deep breath and gave the best explanation he could manage.
He told them that a hollow Havel had attacked him and that during the chaos, the knight had turned his blade toward Oscar. Out of fear for the lizard's life, Naruto made a desperate decision.
He grafted the dragon scale directly onto his soul.
"I'm not even sure how it happened," Naruto admitted. "I just… felt it. My soul was tearing open, and the scale answered. The rest..." He trailed off, glancing at the floor. "I don't remember. Maybe the cursed pyromancy flame reacted to it and made something... else. Some kind of demonic dragon. I think Havel came back to himself, at least for a moment, and fought it. Maybe even saved me."
He looked down at his hands.
"I remember exploding. And then I woke up… like this."
There was a pause.
Andre silently reached for his flask and took a long, heavy swig.
Siegmeyer said nothing at first. Instead, he reached up to the sides of his great helm and pressed two small notches with gloved fingers. The upper half of the helmet cracked open, parting like the shell of a bisected onion, and slowly lifted.
Naruto blinked in surprise. It was the first time he'd seen the man's face.
Siegmeyer's features were rugged and expressive. His face was broad and square-shaped, with a strong jawline covered in a short, thick beard. It was neat, more the beard of a well-traveled knight than a wildman. His cheekbones were prominent, his skin sun-weathered and lightly tanned, etched with lines from age and laughter. His lips were full, curled into a soft, knowing smile, like he had just delivered a quiet piece of wisdom. His eyebrows were thick, slightly arched, lending gravity to a gaze that was calm and steady. His eyes, a warm shade of chestnut brown, shimmered with quiet confidence and kindness. Dark brown hair framed his face, medium in length and swept back loosely, with a few errant strands falling forward. Tousled but not uncared for. Like the rest of him, it carried the look of a man who had seen much and still chose to hope.
Siegmeyer drank from his mug, then exhaled contentedly.
Naruto and Oscar both stared.
Andre shrugged and took another sip of his own. "Yeah, this is a bit out of my range. I'm just a poor old blacksmith, lad. If you ever need me to knock the lizard outta you with a hammer, I'd be happy to try." He gave Naruto a playful grin. "Free of service."
Naruto laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "Thanks, Andre."
There was comfort in knowing the old man hadn't changed, even if everything else had.
"Mmm… Hrmmmmm… How do you feel, my young friend?"
Naruto glanced at Oscar beside him, the crystal lizard chirping softly in support. The young knight smiled, placing a hand gently on his companion's head.
"I feel… fine. Not normal. I don't feel human, not completely. But when I remember why I did it. I feel like I can manage."
Siegmeyer's eyes gleamed with a thoughtful light. "Mmm… To be human… What does that mean, really?"
Naruto frowned slightly. "I… don't know."
"I've heard," Siegmeyer said, "that hollows are the true face of mankind. That to be human is to be full of desire, noble or not. And when I died, mm! When I returned as undead, I searched for meaning, as all lost souls do…"
He looked Naruto in the eye, calm and steady.
"But I found something better."
Naruto blinked. "Better?"
Siegmeyer nodded. "Mmm! It doesn't matter. Whether you are human, or lizard, or something yet unnamed… what makes you you are your actions, your ideals, and your memories."
He straightened his back with pride. "Tell me, Naruto. Are you still the brave knight who once asked me to train him in the art of the blade?"
Naruto didn't hesitate. "Yes."
"Hah hah hah! Then what does it matter, hmm? Human, half-dragon, or polished gemstone. You are still Naruto Uzumaki."
"Thank you, Sir Siegmeyer. That… really helps me see it differently."
Oscar gave a nod.
"Well," the blacksmith muttered, standing with a groan and wiping his hands, "being human's overrated anyway. All I need to feel alive is a hammer in my hand and strong drink in my gut."
He gave Naruto a sideways glance and pulled a large crate onto the table. "And speakin' of feeling better, I've got just the thing."
He opened the crate, revealing the Elite Knight Armor, cleaned, reforged, and gleaming with soft iron-blue.
Naruto's eyes lit up.
He immediately began equipping the armor piece by piece, each plate clicking into place with a satisfying clunk.
"I missed you," he whispered to the gear as he tightened the last strap, then stepped forward and jabbed the air.
BOOM.
A shockwave cracked the air, and the sound barrier shattered like glass. Wind tore through the smithy, rattling chains and knocking the items off Andre's workbench.
Oscar squawked.
Siegmeyer blinked, helmet rattling.
Andre took another drink.
"Mmm… Hrmm," Siegmeyer muttered as the dust settled. "I see you've yet to get a grip on your new strength."
Naruto glanced at his trembling gauntlet. "Yeah…"
He pulled up his interface, reading the glowing status windows that flickered across his vision like ghostly runes.
[Strength: 24 → 30]
"Right. Gotta fix that fast."
"Then let us correct it. Mmm! As I once told you: control without restraint is destruction, but restraint without control is stagnation. One must learn to channel, not contain."
Naruto gave a crooked smile. "Of course. That's why I bullied those Balder Knights for their rapier style. Good practice, bad company."
Siegmeyer laughed. "Hah hah! Very good! Shall we head to the courtyard?"
"Lead the way, onion sensei."
As they walked toward the open training yard beneath the forge tower, Andre called after them, "Don't punch any more holes in my walls, you two. I've only got one hammer and zero patience."
Andre glanced over.
"So," he said, leaning on the table. "I heard from Naruto… you've got a girlfriend."
Oscar blinked.
Then, without a word or a chirp, he slowly curled up on the bench, closed his eyes, and decided it was the perfect time for a nap.
Andre glanced at him, muttered, "Smartest one in the room," and took another long swig from his flask.
That peace lasted about ten seconds.
Then came the sound.
BOOM.
A violent crack tore through the forge, followed by a deep rumble and a cloud of dust shaking the ceiling beams. Tools clattered. The anvil vibrated. Andre nearly dropped his drink.
"The hell was that?"
The blacksmith bolted down the stairwell into the training courtyard, his boots hammering the stone.
What he saw made him stop mid-step.
Naruto was on one knee, gauntleted fist buried in the ground. Around him, the courtyard had caved inward, stone fractured in a perfect crater at least ten feet wide. Dust swirled, and small pebbles rained down like it had just stopped raining fists.
Naruto looked up, sheepish. "At least I didn't destroy the walls."
Andre stared at him.
Then looked around the yard. Then back at the smoking crater. Then took a sip from his flask.
Andre stared at the smoldering crater, then at the two armored maniacs responsible. "Since you two've decided to spar down here," he muttered, rubbing his temple, "give me five minutes to draft my will, or move the hell out."
"No worries, Master Andre," Siegmeyer replied cheerfully, giving a dramatic thumbs-up. "We shall take our knighthood elsewhere."
"Yeah, let's just go beat up those Stone Knights in the Garden," Naruto said with a grin, brushing the dust off his gauntlets. "They make excellent punching bags."
And with that, the duo of knights floofed away toward the woods, footsteps echoing as they vanished into the Basin.
Andre exhaled slowly and turned back toward his forge. "I'm going to drink myself to sleep," he muttered. "Maybe I'll dream of customers who don't crater my courtyard."
He glanced at Oscar, who had peeked one eye open from his napping position.
"You want a drink, lizard?"
Oscar chirped once, noncommittally.
Andre raised his flask. "Good lad."
Then he shuffled back into the forge, the doors closing behind him with a groaning creak.
Peace, for now until the next boom.
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Zabuza Momochi never knew the luxury of idealism.
His life was forged in the cold bite of steel, tempered in silence, and drenched in the blood of others. He was born to no clan, just another nameless brat clawing for air in the fog-choked gutters of Kirigakure. And utterly forgettable in a land where names were everything.
The Land of Water had always bled status. At the top sat the Founding Families, whose power traced back to the Warring States. Below them were the loyalists. And far beneath them… were the rest. Stray dogs like him. Dragged into the academy not by pride, but policy. Stripped of choice, forced to bow beneath flags they never believed in.
Zabuza grew up in that system.
Under the Third Mizukage, in the era they would later call the Bloody Mist, graduation meant slaughter. Kill your classmates or die. Simple arithmetic. And Zabuza? He didn't hesitate. He wasn't even supposed to be in that class, just a boy watching from the sidelines.
But he stepped forward anyway and killed them all.
That massacre broke the system. Or at least cracked it.
From that day, they called him The Demon of the Hidden Mist.
He rose quickly. Earned his stripes in blood. Took up the blade and joined the Seven Ninja Swordsmen. Carved his name into the bones of the old world. But nothing changed. The system that made him still stood. Still devoured the weak. Still crowned cowards in noble silk.
So he plotted a coup.
Not out of duty. Not for justice. Not to "save" his village.
Zabuza didn't believe in things like that.
He wanted power.
The kind that would let him burn down the pedestals others stood on. The kind that meant never bowing again, never taking orders from men who wore their bloodlines like armor.
It failed.
The Mizukage was no mere tyrant. He held the Three-Tails inside him, a monster bound in flesh, made worse by whatever darkness whispered behind his eyes. Zabuza fought, lost, and escaped. Branded a traitor. A ghost in the shinobi world.
And like all missing-nin… he became a mercenary.
He drifted through battlefields, took contracts, spilled blood quietly and efficiently. Built a network. Stockpiled ryo. Waited.
The job in the Land of Waves?
Just another paycheck. Kill the bridge builder and get paid. The money would fund a second attempt. Maybe. Or maybe he'd disappear for good.
But then something changed.
The Wave began to shift.
It started with whispers. Gato's men slaughtered in a single night. No witnesses. Just corpses. They called the killer The Archer of Providence.
Zabuza scoffed until he saw it.
He saw how the villagers began to stand taller. How fear left their eyes. How hope crept back into their voices. It was annoying. Hope was dangerous. Hope made people brave, and brave people got killed. But it also did something else.
It made him wonder.
What if… killing didn't have to be hollow? What if, for once, it could mean something?
For a brief second, Zabuza imagined what it would feel like to not be a weapon. To cut for something greater than coin or survival.
He nearly turned back.
Nearly.
But he was still a practical man. A dead man couldn't fund a revolution. The bridge builder would die. But not for Gato. No. Zabuza would take the job, then turn it on its head. Finish the mission. Get the money and then kill Gato. Take everything the bastard had and leave the Wave standing free.
"Guess I'll play the hero," Zabuza snorted.
"What's so funny, Zabuza?" came a voice from behind him.
Aoi Rokusho.
The green-haired traitor from Konoha, now flying under Amegakure's banner. He strolled in with that smug swagger and his sleeveless purple jumpsuit, with an umbrella slung casually over one shoulder and the Sword of the Second Hokage strapped to his hip like he'd earned it.
"Just thinking it's funny. You're fighting the same village you ran from. You really think they'll forgive you if you kill a few of their own?"
"Forgiveness? Please. Konoha's a pit of hypocrites choking on their own pride. I'd rather see what's left of it burn."
Zabuza didn't care about the speech. He wasn't here for morals. He liked Aoi for one reason only: utility. The plan was simple. Aoi would stall one of the genin teams. Meanwhile, Zabuza and Haku would handle the bridge builder. Then, once the job was done, they'd regroup and sweep up the survivors, including Kakashi Hatake.
And after that? Aoi would die.
Gato, too.
Maybe Zabuza would let Haku keep the Second Hokage's blade. It'd suit him better than the clown holding it now. Unfortunately, Zabuza's plans didn't last long before something felt… off.
He had barely stepped into the hideout when he heard voices, more than there should have been.
Haku opened the door before Zabuza could knock. "Zabuza-sama. You're back."
Zabuza walked in and saw three figures seated around the low table. A man in his late thirties. Two teenagers. All three with hair the color of snow and eyes like carved amethyst.
Hōzuki. Zabuza's eyes narrowed. Why the hell were they here?
Before he could speak, Haku offered the answer, tone neutral. "They were hired by Gato. Reinforcements."
Liar, Zabuza thought immediately. Gato had already called in Aoi through his name. Bringing in more backup—especially this kind—wasn't efficiency.
It was insurance.
Gato didn't trust him. Which meant these three weren't here to help. They were here to make sure he didn't go off script. That no one did.
Aoi strolled in behind, spotted Haku, and flashed his sleaze. "Hello there, beautiful. What's your name?"
Haku didn't blink. "A boy."
Aoi choked. "Wh—?"
The resulting spit-take was spectacular.
One of the Hōzuki twins clutched his chest, howling with laughter. The other collapsed sideways, face buried in a pillow to muffle the noise.
The eldest of the three, still seated calmly, just chuckled and met Zabuza's gaze. "Been a while."
"Kazan?"
He hadn't seen that face in over a decade, but it was burned into memory. Kazan Hōzuki. A former Mist shinobi of considerable renown before the bloodline purges.
"I thought you were dead."
Kazan smiled faintly. "Most people did."
"I sent you a message," Zabuza said. "Back during the coup. Asked you to stand with me."
"I got it," Kazan replied. "But I had a family to move before the Mizukage's purge reached my doorstep."
"So what brings you crawling out now?"
Kazan shrugged. "Man's gotta eat. Gato's name's been floating around. Rumor said he was offering a fortune."
Zabuza's eyes narrowed. "How much?"
"Five million ryo."
Zabuza whistled low. That explained a lot. Gato wasn't just funding a hit. He was bleeding money. Desperation… or something worse. A last move. Or a hidden one.
Zabuza didn't care.
He looked around again. Aoi, still coughing. Haku, quiet as always. The Hōzuki twins grinning like they were waiting for a signal. Kazan, seated like a war general ready to flip the board.
Every man in the room had their role. And not one of them was planning to follow through with it.
The conversation that followed was dry and tactical. Names. Targets. Who would shadow which genin team. Who would strike at the bridge builder. Who would engage Kakashi. No one raised their voice. No one asked more than they needed. Every shinobi in the room was playing their part...
…and planning who to kill after.
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Morning brought no warmth, just a gray stillness clinging to the sea air.
Team 7 and Team 8 had split at dawn. One team stayed behind to protect the safehouse. The other escorted Tazuna and the bridge laborers to continue construction.
Kurenai Yuhi sat beside the open kitchen, sipping tea with Tsunami as the jōnin shared stories from her time in the Earth Nation. Team 8 stood guard in various positions around the house. There was tension in the air, they could feel it. The enemy was waiting for the right moment to strike.
Thick mist began to seep through the forest. It rolled into the yard in sheets, curling around the wooden walls, slithering through the gaping hole Naruto had blasted open the day before.
Kurenai was on her feet in an instant.
Water Style: Hidden Mist Jutsu, she realized. Her fingers curled into a defensive sign as the air turned cold and the world bleached white. Visibility dropped to inches. The temperature with it.
Even Tsunami stiffened.
Hinata was already in motion, pale eyes igniting with the veins of the Byakugan. "Three signatures," she said quickly. "Two with chūnin-level chakra. One… jōnin."
Tsunami jolted upright. "Inari's still on the rooftop!"
Kurenai didn't answer. She vanished in a burst of motion. The rooftop came into view, the fog parting for an instant to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered man standing in front of Kiba, while Akamaru barked and shielded Inari with bared teeth.
Kazan struck first.
His kunai drove straight into Kiba's skull. A clean kill. Only for Kiba to melt away like wax.
A genjutsu.
Kazan narrowed his eyes, already focusing to dispel it but not fast enough.
Kurenai appeared in front of him, her eyes cold, her arm thrusting a kunai directly into his sternum. His chest liquefied around the weapon.
"Sorry, doll," Kazan said, unfazed, his body bubbling as it reformed. "You can't hurt me."
His arm bulged, fingers elongating into watery claws that lashed across Kurenai's body only for her to vanish again. Then a tree grew behind him, wrapped its tendrils around his throat.
"Then tell me…" her voice whispered by his ear. "Do you feel pain?"
Kazan's body convulsed as a searing wave of agony coursed through him. Kurenai's genjutsu was precise, forcing his brain to believe his nerves were aflame. He roared, chakra pulsing as he forced himself free.
But even that was part of the trap.
From above, Kurenai was in the air holding Inari as they landed on the ground.
"Water Style: Piercing Lance!"
Spear-like javelins of compressed water screamed through the air, impaling them both. Or so it seemed.
They faded.
Another layer of genjutsu.
Kazan finally broke free.
The real battlefield came into focus. Team 8 stood across the clearing. Shino cradled Tsunami in a bridal carry. Kiba held Inari in his arms. Tsunami and the boy both lay unconscious under a gentle genjutsu.
Better asleep than screaming and becoming liabilities.
Kurenai opened a scroll and with a puff of chakra flared, Naruto clones sprang forth.
"Kurenai-sensei, what's going on?" one of them asked, eyes immediately scanning for threats.
"Take Tsunami and Inari," she ordered. "Get them far from here. Alert your team. Tell them the enemy has engaged."
"Got it!" the clones said in unison.
They each took a person and flickered away in bursts of movement. Then the lake behind Tazuna's house exploded. A colossal dragon of water rose from the depths, crashing through what remained of the structure. Its body shimmered with eerie purpose, twisting like a sentient beast.
"Sensei!" Hinata's voice rang out. "It has a chakra network inside!"
Team 8 broke into a sprint, weaving through trees as the dragon chased.
Hinata reached into the lining of her jacket, pulled a bow and arrow. With one swift motion, she notched the arrow outside the bow using a Hyūga grip technique designed for horseback but just as effective on the run. She fired high, angling the shot.
The arrow curved downward.
The explosion tag on its tip detonated on the water dragon's spine, sending it reeling and breaking apart into roaring mist.
From the dispersing fog, laughter echoed as Shōka and Enka, the Hōzuki twins emerged.
"Did you see that, brother?"
"I saw it, brother."
"The prey can actually fight back," said one.
"Oh, how fun," said the other.
They giggled in sync, their joy sounding like funeral bells in the mist.
"Children," Kazan said calmly as he stepped through the thinning fog. "Your father is going to need you to prepare."
Shōka and Enka pouted in sync.
"But we wanna..."
"Go!"
The twins couldn't argue against their father. So, they vanished into the trees with the unsettling grace of predators pretending to be children.
Kazan's smile returned.
He drew a short, hooked dagger from his belt. The blade was blackened from years of use, the edge recurved like a karambit but longer as if built to hook into muscle and tear out chunks.
Kurenai didn't flinch. She dropped into a stance, knees bent, kunai reversed in her hand, blade running along her forearm.
Silence then motion.
Kazan struck first with his left foot forward, dagger slashing in a tight arc aimed at her liver. Kurenai pivoted off the line, parried the inside of his wrist with her left hand, and countered with a rising elbow aimed at his chin.
Kazan leaned back, the strike grazing his lip, and stepped into her blind spot. She rotated with a spinning heel kick, but he ducked low, sliding beneath the arc and popping up behind her.
Kurenai spun just in time to block a stabbing thrust.
The kunai and dagger locked.
Both pushed.
She did a foot sweep, pivoted off her shoulder torque but Kazan shifted his weight and rolled over her ankle, twisting midair to land in a crouch. His follow-up was a snapping backhand aimed at her temple. She ducked, twisted into a low stance catching his wrist under her armpit while her heel slammed downward toward his ankle.
He snarled, let go of his dagger, and trapped her leg with his own then headbutted forward. Her forehead cracked into his, both of them recoiling. Blood ran down Kurenai's brow, but her grip didn't loosen.
Kazan grabbed her wrist with both hands, spun, and flung her over his shoulder.
Kurenai rolled with it, absorbing the fall on her back and kicking up her legs. He leapt over her heel just in time, but her second leg twisted into a scissor grip and yanked him down.
They hit the ground in a scramble.
Dagger and kunai forgotten.
Kazan's fist drove for her throat. Kurenai caught it mid-thrust, fingers digging into the tendons. She jabbed with her palm into the side of his jaw, dazing him for half a heartbeat.
She rolled into top mount. He headbutted again, sending Kurenai flying.
Fang Over Fang!
A whirling blur of teeth and fur tore through the mist as Kiba and Akamaru launched toward Kazan like a living drill, chakra spinning off them in violent bursts.
Kazan's arm flexed. His biceps bulged grotesquely as chakra flowed through his forearm. Ready to swat them like flies.
But then thwip.
An arrow embedded into his shoulder with a sharp thunk. Hinata had fired it from the shadows.
It would have disabled a normal shinobi. But Kazan Hōzuki wasn't normal. His shoulder liquefied, the arrow passing through a gel-like mass of water before being ejected whole. He caught it mid-air and, with a sneer, hurled it straight back.
It slammed into Shino's torso, pinning him to a tree. The attached explosive tag detonated, engulfing the Aburame in fire.
Kazan twisted toward Kiba and Akamaru as his hand flared.
"Water Style: Water Pressure Prison."
A translucent orb of condensed water formed in an instant around the duo. They stopped mid-spin. They tried to move but couldn't.
The sphere vibrated with violent pressure.
Inside, oxygen depleted rapidly. Their limbs slowed. Eyes bloodshot. Akamaru scratched against the walls but couldn't break through. Blood vessels ruptured as flesh strained. Their bodies twisted under the internal crushing force like lungs imploding and bones compacting under an invisible vice.
Kazan didn't even glance back.
He was already charging forward.
"Water Style: Senbon Barrage!"
Dozens of high-pressure water needles exploded forward, piercing the clearing like a net. Hinata screamed then crumpled as three needles struck her shoulder, thigh, and abdomen. Blood sprayed.
Kazan leapt high.
Kunai flashed. He sliced through Kurenai's neck, her body slumping. But the world fractured. His surroundings twisted. Reality itself melted away like a reflection rippling across water.
Kazan crashed down, not onto victory, but onto stone spikes. Pinned through the gut. He gasped. "…I'm in a genjutsu."
"Always have been."
"When?"
"The moment you and I engaged in hand-to-hand," she replied coldly. "I layered you in illusion after illusion. Everything you experienced was just you dancing in the palm of my hand."
Kazan strained to move, but his limbs were sluggish. He could feel the pain. Not just mental. The genjutsu was so refined it projected sensory feedback into his nervous system.
"As expected of a Konoha jōnin," Kazan muttered. "You're tricky. But it doesn't matter. You can't kill me. And my sons… your little genin can't hope to stop them. They've already killed chūnin before."
"Chūnin, huh? That's cute."
Then Kurenai gave a half-smile, more like a warning. "My kids? They're in the same generation as Naruto Uzumaki."
Kazan blinked. "Is that supposed to mean something?"
"It will." Kurenai leaned in, voice dropping to a razor's whisper.
"That name is going to shake the world."
She placed a hand on his forehead.
"Shame you and your sons won't live long enough to see it."
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The fog churned while trees trembled.
Kiba landed on all fours, claws extended, lips pulled back in a feral snarl. His breath misted in the cold air, every muscle tensed. Across from him, Shōka Hōzuki stood lazily balanced on a tree branch, grinning like a devil in a boy's skin.
"Nice dog tricks," Shōka said. "Where's your mutt?"
Kiba didn't answer. He was already moving.
Four-Legged Technique.
His muscles flexed and fur bristled across his skin. His pupils narrowed into sharp slits. With a sudden boom, he launched off the ground.
Tunneling Fang!
Kiba spun into a bladed spiral, nails sharpened by chakra, tearing up the forest floor as he barreled toward Shōka who began to liquefy. Kiba passed through harmlessly, slamming into a tree. Bark exploded. He landed, skidding, blood dripping from his shoulder where a branch had sliced him.
"Tch…"
"Did you think I'd stand still for that?"
Kiba spun but was too late.
Shōka's liquefied body surged from the base of the tree like a wave and slammed into Kiba's side. The Inuzuka was flung like a ragdoll into the underbrush, crashing through a bush and coughing blood.
Shōka reformed beside him, water dripping from his fingers, forming into razor-like needles.
Water Gun.
He fired a burst of pressurized water bullets.
Kiba rolled, barely dodging, one shot grazing his thigh. He sniffed once, twice and locked in. Then vanished.
Shōka looked around.
Kiba burst from beneath the dirt with Fang Over Fang! This time, he slammed partially through Shōka's liquefied body, his scraping flesh even as water dispersed around him.
Shōka reformed mid-air, now clutching his torn shoulder. He laughed. "That's more like it!"
Suddenly, Akamaru burst from the side with a bark, bloodied but alive, his fur singed from the earlier explosion. He slid next to Kiba. The boy grinned. "Ready?"
Bark.
Double Impact Wolf Fang!
They split—one left, one right—blitzing Shōka with a flurry of crossing slashes. Kiba slashed from the left. Akamaru bit from the right.
Shōka staggered, half-reformed, his body pulsing with steam as he pumped water through his muscles. "You're not bad, mutt!" he snarled, veins bulging. "But I've got tricks too!"
He slammed his fists into the ground.
Water Style: Calling Flood.
Water erupted in geysers beneath Kiba's feet. The water came from Shōka's body itself, traveling through roots and capillaries like a living flood.
Kiba leapt... too late.
The geyser struck him full in the chest and slammed him into a boulder, shattering it. Blood poured from his mouth.
Shōka moved in for the kill, forming a spear of water along his arm like a jagged lance. "Say goodbye."
But Kiba smiled through bloodied teeth as he trusted his teammate to take the shot.
Hinata knelt a hundred meters away, hidden in the dense forest, her breathing calm, her eyes locked onto her mark through the Byakugan. She loosed the arrow. It arched like a falling star, slicing through mist and silence, landing just inches from Shōka's foot.
The Hōzuki boy laughed. "Missed..."
FLASH.
The arrowhead burst into a searing light. A flashbang hidden in the shaft exploded with a thunderous crack, blinding the world in white.
Shōka staggered, then came the sound.
Fang Over Fang: Final Revolver!
Kiba and Akamaru, cloaked in spinning flame, shot through the fog like a blazing comet. Their chakra spiraled around them in a drill of molten heat, fire dancing like a serpent down a tornado's spine.
Shōka's body began to liquefy, too slow. The fire-drill slammed into his torso. Steam exploded. Water hissed. Shōka's form distorted violently as his body reformed mid-collapse.
Again.
The flaming vortex twisted in the air, curving like a predator with a second wind.
Again.
It struck from the side, shredding Shōka's shoulder as the boy howled, barely keeping his cohesion.
Again.
From above. From below. From every angle, Kiba and Akamaru became a storm of death. Each impact forced Shōka to liquefy, each reformation weaker than the last.
At last, he collapsed into a trembling puddle, his consciousness fading. And then Shino's kikaichū descended. Thousands of insects swarmed over the steaming remains, draining the chakra out of the sludgy water form. The puddle thinned… then dried.
The unconscious body of Shōka Hōzuki remained, gasping weakly in the mud.
Kiba landed beside him, panting, covered in sweat and steam. His eyes stared down; not in triumph, but in grim silence.
He stabbed him.
Kiba watched the life leave them and he didn't celebrate.
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Elsewhere.
A tremor shook the fog.
Shino stood with his hands in his pockets, surrounded by insects. Opposite him was Enka, face twisted in rage.
"Your brother," Shino said simply, "is dead."
Enka's face cracked into a snarl. "LIAR!"
Water surged around him, forming two massive fists the size of tree trunks. They swung down with earth-shaking force as Shino exploded into bugs. The fists struck only air and mist.
Shino reformed behind him.
"Stop hiding behind bugs, coward!" Enka spat. "They're useless! They can't hurt me!"
"Is that so?"
An arrow shot from the tree line, piercing Enka in the back. He blinked. Blood, not water, trickled from the wound as Enka crumpled to his knees. "W… What did you do to me?"
Shino stepped forward, adjusting his glasses. "The insects you so kindly absorbed into your water body were carrying larvae. Bred to function in moisture-rich environments."
Enka's eyes widened.
"They drained your chakra slowly. Silently. You never noticed."
Shino nodded toward the trees. "And when your defenses dropped, Hinata took the shot."
"You monsters…" Enka choked.
"Be glad you didn't face Team 7."
"W-what?"
"They're the real monsters."
The kikaichū swarmed the boy. Enka screamed once before being drowned in a tide of chittering death.
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Water Style: Grudge Rain.
The sky split open with a roar.
Rain poured like a curse, not droplets but thick, heavy sheets that stung the skin and soaked the earth in seconds. Chakra thinned in the air like breath in winter. The mud swelled. The trees groaned. And through it all, Kazan laughed.
"You should feel honored," he bellowed, his voice a booming echo through the storm. "Not many shinobi are worth this."
Kurenai gritted her teeth.
Her boots slipped in the muck as she darted through the thinning canopy, the downpour sapping her chakra with every second. She could feel her chakra draining like blood from an open wound. Her breath came faster. Her limbs felt heavy. But she didn't stop.
Behind her, the rainwater surged as Kazan's body rose from the soaked battlefield, merging with the flood. He became a pillar of writhing water, tendrils forming like serpents above the column, each one snapping in the air, seeking her like living whips.
Kurenai ran.
Her form blurred through the trees. Each step a calculation. Each twist a gamble. Tendrils slammed down where she'd been moments before, shattering bark, cratering the soaked earth. She flipped over one, slid under another, and rolled through the mud.
Thunk!
She slammed an explosive tag kunai into a trunk. Another. Then another, marking her path like a trail of sparks.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The forest shook behind her as the tags detonated, momentarily breaking the rhythm of the tendrils. But it wasn't enough. The rain healed Kazan. Her chakra leaked away with every breath.
She knew.
She was losing.
What do I do? she thought, heart hammering. I can't keep this up…
CRACK.
A sound like thunder shattered the air, but it wasn't thunder. It was too fast, too sharp, the kind of noise that rattled your bones a second before your brain understood it.
Kazan's water-body jerked violently as something massive hit it from above. A colossal arrow moving at Mach speed.
The impact was cataclysmic.
The water exploded outward in a geyser, spraying vapor in every direction. Shockwaves rippled through the rain, trees bent with the force, and the tendrils collapsed mid-motion. The sonic boom rolled through the trees like the roar of a beast.
Kurenai stared. And spotted the arrow half-buried in the earth, humming with residual chakra. She let out a breathless chuckle. "I owe you one, Naruto."
Poof.
A storage seal near the arrow's notch burst open in a puff of chakra mist and out rolled Oscar, chirping gleefully, shaking his scales from the ride.
Kurenai blinked. "Of course he also stores summons in arrowheads…"
From a puddle behind her, Kazan reformed, dripping and furious, a snarl on his lips. "What the hell was that?"
"That?" Kurenai answered, spinning with a bloody kunai in hand. "That was Naruto."
Kazan's fury flickered. For the first time… doubt entered his eyes. This job? It wasn't worth it. Too much chakra spent. Too many surprises. He turned. "I'll get my sons. This place isn't worth the trouble..."
Oscar chirped and aimed. A blue glow lit up around his cannon.
Kazan scoffed. "Please. I'm a Hōzuki. My liquefaction will make that useless..."
BOOM.
The laser fired.
Kazan was slammed to the ground as a cluster of blue crystals formed and detonated on his chest mid-liquid state due to the chakra coming in contact with magic, piercing straight through.
The man coughed.
He reached out, arm trembling, blood mixing with rain.
Boys… run… Your father… won't be there to protect you…
He didn't know, but they were already dead.
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Kurenai stared at what was left of Kazan Hōzuki and said nothing for a long while. She knew why Kazan had died so easily.
Overconfidence.
The Hōzuki always thought their liquefaction technique made them untouchable. Most of the time, they were right. But not against a lizard with a gun strapped to their back.
She turned slowly to Oscar, still humming faintly from the shot, his cannon venting warm air like a beast exhaling.
"…How did you do that?" she asked, still blinking rain from her lashes.
Oscar chirped proudly, a melodic series of pulses and trills.
"…Did you just say, Everyone has a plan until they get shot?"
Oscar gave a chirp that definitely meant yes.
Kurenai exhaled, dry amusement playing on her lips. "You're terrifying."
She reached into her pouch, pulled out a kunai, and held it out. "Here. Have a treat."
Oscar happily crunched it in his jaws, tail wagging slightly as the metal shattered between his crystal teeth.
The silence returned.
Kurenai turned her gaze toward the forest where Naruto's clones had gone, escorting Tsunami and Inari to safety. The mist was clearing now, slowly peeling away to reveal the damage.
It hadn't even been a proper battle. It had been a lesson.
She glanced back at Oscar, who was pawing curiously at Kazan's remains. And she realized something chilling.
This wasn't even Naruto at his prime. This was just… a whisper of what was coming.
Kurenai closed her eyes and whispered, "God help anyone who tries to take that boy lightly."
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[ Personal Note: First off, thanks a ton to all of you for sticking with this story. Seriously, you guys are awesome. Now, if you're interested in supporting me on P@treon, let me just say that over there, I post these massive 5k-word chapters. But heads up, if you're jumping to P@treon, you'll need to start from Chapter 84, since that's where this chapter lines up with the content there.
To everyone here just reading along, please don't forget to leave a comment! Honestly, your comments make my day, and they let me know you're as invested in this story as I am. So yeah, thanks again, and I hope you have an amazing rest of your day!