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The day passed swiftly, and the battle for the Hell King's throne resumed its daily broadcast.
Since the fighting styles of shinobi varied greatly—some battles concluding quickly, others requiring prolonged periods of probing and maneuvering—it was impossible to accurately estimate the duration of each match. The tournament could only proceed in order, with the second round commencing only after the first was fully complete.
The first match of the day, however, was particularly intriguing from the start.
The Third Kazekage of Sunagakure versus Sasori of the Red Sand.
Yet another battle of vengeance.
Sasori of the Red Sand lived up to his reputation as a genius puppeteer, having actually crafted new puppets using materials unique to the Yomi Hell.
The Third Kazekage had also upgraded the Iron Sand he manipulated, somehow incorporating a deep crimson, otherworldly sand from Yomi.
"Sasori, you… you dare…"
A sinister, ghostly aura emanated from the Third Kazekage. The black-and-red mixed Iron Sand writhed around him like a monstrous entity, baring its claws and fangs.
"I will ascend the throne! And then I will cast you into the Avīci Hell!!"
"Hmph, try if you can!"
Sasori met the threat with a cold sneer, his ten fingers moving in a continuous dance. Ten puppets of varied designs creaked and groaned as they hovered in mid-air.
Without further words, the two immediately launched into an all-out battle.
The sky was soon obscured by swirling clouds of black and red Iron Sand, blocking the view. The audience could only hear the sounds of fierce, intermittent collisions echoing from within.
At that moment, the magical projection's focus shifted, zooming in on Chiyo, who stood watching amongst the crowd below the high platform.
Chiyo still maintained her elderly appearance. Her eyelids drooped heavily, giving her a half-asleep look. She revealed no discernible emotion whatsoever.
Standing behind her was a young-looking couple, their expressions complex as they gazed up at the barrier above.
The image flickered, then switched back to the battlefield within the barrier on the high platform.
By now, the vision-obscuring Iron Sand had been withdrawn by the Third Kazekage, revealing the current state of the two combatants.
"You cannot win against me, brat!"
The Iron Sand swirling around the Third Kazekage shifted forms incessantly. His eyes were bloodshot, fixed unwaveringly on Sasori opposite him.
"Back then, had I not been caught off guard, a mere brat like you could never have succeeded!"
"Hmph, a shinobi is one who uses any means necessary! And to kill or be killed is the shinobi's fate!"
Sasori's expression was grave. Three of his ten puppets lay in pieces.
"And I am no longer that brat from back then!"
His ten fingers twitched once more, and the remaining puppets shot forward in another rapid assault.
Outside the Moon's castle, Kankurō watched intently, his eyes glued to Sasori's masterful puppet manipulation techniques displayed in the projection.
"Kankurō," Baki asked, "how many puppets can you currently control simultaneously now?"
"Five."
Kankurō's voice was muffled, heavy.
Baki said nothing more, but inwardly, he sighed. It seemed that after Lady Chiyo and Sasori, it would be difficult for Sunagakure to produce another puppet master of such stunning, extraordinary talent.
Kankurō was also acutely aware that among the Five Great Shinobi Villages in the current ninja world, Sunagakure's strength was arguably the weakest. If not for the peculiar circumstances enveloping the entire world and the shared enemy uniting everyone, the village would likely have faced severe crises long ago.
Watching Gaara, still so young, shoulder the heavy burden of the village alone, while he, as the elder brother, could offer little substantial help, had long been a source of deep anguish for Kankurō.
Now, his hands clenched tightly into fists, he stared unblinkingly at the battle unfolding in the projection, unwilling to miss a single moment.
On the screen, the Iron Sand controlled by the Third Kazekage grew increasingly violent, shifting forms continuously, relentlessly destroying Sasori's puppets one after another.
"Stand down, brat!"
The Third Kazekage pursued Sasori relentlessly with his Iron Sand.
"Here, you have no chance at all!"
"..."
Sasori remained silent, retreating swiftly.
Only one puppet now remained in his hands.
"Heh heh."
Once he had temporarily escaped the Iron Sand's assault range, he let out a soft, derisive chuckle.
"What are you laughing at?"
The Third Kazekage advanced towards Sasori's position with deliberate, unhurried steps.
Black grains of Iron Sand rained down from above like fine dust.
"Heh."
Sasori chuckled again, then took a step forward. In the blink of an eye, his entire spirit form merged seamlessly into the puppet standing before him.
Then, the puppet reached up and pulled down the black hood covering its head, revealing a face identical to Sasori's own.
Creak… creak… creak…
Creak… creak… creak…
The puppet's jaw trembled up and down. Then, its entire face grew animated, finally shedding the stiff, artificial appearance of a puppet completely.
"You know, life after death is surprisingly good. My puppetry has entered a new stage."
He extended a hand from his sleeve—a hand indistinguishable from living flesh and blood. A fanatical light flashed in his eyes.
"Perhaps this is the art I've always dreamed of."
He then stretched both hands forward.
"And I will ascend the throne, become a deity of hell, and achieve true eternity!"
Several black shadows shot out from his sleeves, rapidly expanding and transforming into several semi-transparent puppets of bizarre forms once more.
However, these entities were less like puppets and more like bodies constructed from spiritual energy.
These "puppets," their features somewhat blurred, erupted with what seemed like an endless blaze of black spiritual flames.
A slightly triumphant smile played on Sasori's lips.
"Spiritual Art: Ghost Secret Technique!"
"You truly are a genius, brat."
The Third Kazekage's expression was complex.
"It's just a pity…"
The black Iron Sand around him drifted down like falling snow, leaving behind only the deep crimson Yomi Sand.
"…from the very beginning, you walked the wrong path."
The dark red Yomi Sand danced wildly, coalescing into eight enormous, grotesque serpent heads.
"Spiritual Art: Eight-Branched Blood Sand!"
…
"Oh? Both of them activated spiritual arts simultaneously?"
Kaito watched the scene in the projection with keen interest, his hands tucked into his sleeves.
"Uncle, can spiritual power achieve this level?"
Sasuke, standing beside him, asked.
"That Sasori's puppets… they're entirely made of energy, right!"
Naruto chimed in, "Hey! I'd say that's not puppetry anymore, it's a clone technique, right!"
"No, those are still puppets." Kaito stated.
"Observe carefully. The movement patterns of those puppets are completely different from clones."
"Correct. Clones possess autonomous action capability. But Sasori's puppets are still entirely controlled by him personally."
The tomoe in Sasuke's Sharingan spun.
"Although, he's completely stopped relying on means like chakra strings for control?"
He glanced at Kaito with a questioning look.
"They are controlled through mental power."
Kaito provided the answer.
"This is where spiritual power differs from chakra. Once chakra leaves the body, it either acts autonomously, like in the Shadow Clone Technique, relying on the mental energy contained within, or it can only be manipulated in simple ways. Spiritual power has no such limitations. In terms of remote control, spiritual power holds a significant advantage. Because it can fully utilize mental power to execute all manner of complex manipulations."