Chapter 304 – The Ashura's Battlefield (Part III)
Uchiha Kei was genuinely surprised to find that his Susanoo's weapon could wield the black flames of Amaterasu.
But what intrigued him most was not that the flames had appeared—
it was how they had manifested.
They hadn't fused into Susanoo itself.
Instead, they clung only to its weapon—
a blade wrapped in darkness, wreathed in eternal fire.
Still, the enhancement was undeniable.
Susanoo's already overwhelming might had taken on a new, almost divine lethality.
At first, Kei had been cautious about using this newfound power.
He wasn't sure what the flames were capable of,
or how much control he had over them.
The last thing he wanted was to ignite the entire battlefield
and lose control of the fire,
only to be consumed by it himself.
But soon, he realized—he'd been worrying for nothing.
The black flames born from his transcription seal—
sealed within his Mangekyō and later manifested through Susanoo—
were no longer just an external force.
They had become a part of him.
The flames responded to his chakra,
moved with his intent,
and burned only at his command.
Susanoo was his weapon—
and so too, now, was Amaterasu.
It was the perfect union of form and fury.
In truth, Kei had never thought much of Amaterasu in its original form.
It was a jutsu of reputation rather than results.
Even in his memories of the future,
the so-called "strongest offensive technique" rarely finished anyone of worth.
At best, it had maimed the Fourth Raikage—
who had promptly severed his own arm to escape its spread.
Other than that, it had only ever burned White Zetsu and a few wooden constructs.
In short, it was flashy—
but ultimately disappointing.
Its best feature was surprise—
the ability to lock onto a target and ignite them instantly
without the need for hand seals or visible buildup.
But the enemies who survived long enough to face Amaterasu
were never weak enough to die from it.
So, it had become a tool of fear more than destruction.
Still…
when bound to Susanoo's blade,
that same "inefficient fire" became something else entirely.
Now, every swing could tear reality apart—
and each stroke left trails of black fire that devoured everything.
Deadlier.
More precise.
And utterly beautiful in its cruelty.
Kei's mind drifted as he recalled something else—
his experiment during the attack on Orochimaru's base.
That day, he'd discovered he could channel Susanoo's dark chakra
into his personal blade.
So why not try it again—
but this time, add Amaterasu's flames into the mix?
If the black chakra could serve as fuel,
it might also act as insulation—
feeding the fire while preventing it from consuming the blade itself.
If it worked, he would gain
a devastating melee weapon—
a technique that blurred the line between Susanoo and human form.
And in this era, that kind of power would make him untouchable.
Nagato's Rinnegan was still immature.
Obito was already under his thumb.
The Akatsuki's other members were still forming—mere seedlings of chaos.
And Madara… had yet to be revived.
The future's so-called "villains" were still infants in the dark.
Only a few names came to mind that could truly trouble him:
the aged but deadly Third Tsuchikage,
the Fourth Raikage and his brother, the Eight-Tails Jinchūriki,
and of course, Minato Namikaze.
But Minato was his ally—his closest one.
The Raikage brothers could be handled with strategy and Mangekyō power.
As for Ōnoki… well, that old man could fly,
and aerial bombardment was indeed troublesome.
Still, if it ever came to that—
Kei doubted he'd even let the old man take to the skies.
He smirked faintly at the thought.
In the shinobi world, battle wasn't simply about chakra levels or natural counters.
Until one reached the absolute peak—the level of godhood—
strategy and cunning ruled the field.
And Kei had no intention of losing to anyone beneath that summit.
Though he reminded himself soberly—
even beyond that peak… there are still beings like the Sage of Six Paths. And worse—aliens.
He drew his sword slowly.
Dark chakra surged along the blade,
rippling with heat and pressure until it shimmered like molten steel.
Then—flickers of black fire danced across it,
hungry and alive.
Perfect.
A battlefield like this was the ideal testing ground.
And besides—Ao had to die tonight.
Obito had been careless.
Or perhaps he had been too.
Sending a mind-controlled Fourth Mizukage to fight
in front of someone like Ao,
who possessed the Byakugan…
was reckless.
Inevitable exposure.
Kei exhaled a cold breath through his mask.
"Well then," he rasped,
"let's see if your information is as sharp as your tongue."
He vanished.
A single blur—
and he was already beside a Mist ninja,
Sharingan locking eyes in a flash of crimson.
The enemy froze mid-breath.
A flick of the blade—
and though the wound was shallow,
black flames erupted instantly from it.
The man's scream tore through the air—
a shriek of agony that turned to silence as the fire devoured him whole.
"Stay back!" Ao shouted.
"The black chakra on his blade—it's fire! Don't let it touch you!"
He leapt forward, forming hand seals—
"Water Release: Water Formation Wall!"
A torrent of water surged toward the burning man—
only to feed the fire.
The Amaterasu flames flared brighter,
devouring the water itself,
roaring higher.
Ao's eyes widened in horror.
Kei didn't give him a second chance.
With a burst of speed,
he was already upon him—
blade cutting through the air toward Ao's throat.
"Boil Release: Skilled Mist Technique!"
A sharp cry rang out as Terumī Mei moved,
her hands flashing through seals.
A cloud of corrosive acid mist exploded between them,
forcing Kei to halt mid-swing.
The hiss of the acid hit his armor,
smoke rising where droplets touched.
He frowned slightly beneath the mask.
He remembered this technique—
the same one that had once nearly melted Madara's Susanoo.
"Tch. Troublesome woman."
He leapt backward,
avoiding the spreading mist as Ao retreated behind her.
But before he could land,
a squad of Mist shinobi closed in behind him,
blades slashing at his back.
Kei twisted, dodging with a fluid motion—
but then—
"—!"
A sharp pain.
A kunai drove straight through his back, piercing his heart.
One Mist shinobi had managed to slip in unnoticed—
and struck true.
For an instant, the man grinned in triumph.
"Wait—NO! Get back!" Ao's voice roared across the field.
The attacker froze.
Too late.
The figure before him—"Kei"—
shimmered, then detonated.
The explosion tore the battlefield apart.
Bodies and shrapnel flew in all directions,
and the shinobi who had landed the blow was obliterated instantly.
When the smoke cleared,
there was nothing left of him but fragments.
Ao cursed under his breath.
He'd seen it clearly through his Byakugan—
a Shadow Clone, loaded with unstable chakra,
rigged to explode on destruction.
It was brutal, efficient,
and horrifyingly clever.
Still, it told him something important.
If Kei resorted to such tactics while avoiding damage,
then it meant—
outside of Susanoo, his defense was indeed weaker.
"This is our chance!" Ao barked, rallying his men.
"His defense is down—attack from all sides!
Even if we can't kill him, we'll hold him off until the Fourth Mizukage arrives!"
"Yes, sir!"
The Mist forces, bloodied and desperate, surged forward again.
They knew it was suicide—
but now, they had hope.
And that, Ao believed,
might be enough.
Kei watched them charge,
his Mangekyō glowing faintly through the mist.
Hope.
Such a fragile, foolish thing.
He sighed softly.
Confidence was admirable.
But faith without strength…
was just an illusion.
He moved again.
A blur of black lightning.
In the blink of an eye, he appeared before the nearest Mist shinobi,
his hand snapping around the man's throat—
and twisting.
A sickening crack echoed as the body fell limp.
Kei turned his head toward Ao.
"You really think," he said quietly,
"that I can't block your attacks?"
The blade lifted once more,
black flames hissing along its edge.
"Then come," he said.
"Let's dance."
Meanwhile, far from the battlefield—
Konoha Village.
Within the Uchiha compound, Minato Namikaze appeared in a flash of yellow light.
Without hesitation, he raced toward Fugaku Uchiha's home.
Kei had told him before leaving—
if he ever sent a signal,
it meant he needed backup.
And he wanted Fugaku brought with him.
The reasoning was obvious.
Fugaku's power—his Mangekyō Sharingan—was among Konoha's greatest assets.
And the fewer who knew about this operation, the better.
As Minato sped through the compound,
the Uchiha and other clansmen watched in surprise.
The Hokage rarely visited here in person—
and never in such urgency.
But Minato didn't stop.
He found Fugaku already waiting outside his home,
expression calm and prepared.
"Lord Hokage," Fugaku greeted, bowing slightly.
"Fugaku," Minato said quickly, "no time for formalities. I got the signal."
Fugaku nodded. "Then it's time."
He led Minato inside—not to the main hall,
but into an empty, cleared-out warehouse.
"Kei summoned you, didn't he?" Fugaku asked, closing the door behind them.
"Yes," Minato replied, driving a kunai into the ground.
"I don't know the full situation, but we'd better be ready for a fight."
"There's no need to explain." Fugaku's tone was firm.
"I know the kind of danger Kei attracts."
Minato smiled faintly. "You're not wrong."
They both moved quickly.
As the sealing formula glowed beneath them,
Fugaku handed Minato two dark cloaks and matching masks.
"Put this on. No one can know it's the Hokage."
"Call me Minato, please," he said with a wry smile as he donned the disguise.
"When did you start being so formal?"
Fugaku smirked slightly. "Since the Hokage started taking orders from my ally."
Minato laughed under his breath.
"Fair. It's been a while since I've gone on a mission myself."
"Feeling nostalgic?"
"Maybe. Though… the weight's different now."
He sighed. "Guess that's the curse of being Hokage."
Fugaku nodded, fastening his own cloak.
"Then let's remind them why the two of us once stood at the top."
A flash of light erupted from the seal.
And in the next heartbeat,
both men vanished—
reappearing atop something massive and living.
Their eyes widened beneath their masks.
Because they were standing on the shoulder of a giant.
---
Back in the battlefield below,
Kei faced the charging Mist forces once more.
He no longer relied on substitution or clones.
He no longer dodged or played with his prey.
This time, he intended to make them remember—
to carve his image into their nightmares.
The Uchiha's shadow.
The god of fire and destruction.
He raised his burning blade.
"Naïve," he whispered.
And then,
the hunt began again.
---
Boiling chakra flared around Terumī Mei, her form outlined in steam and light.
The air itself began to hiss and warp.
She had finished her seals.
"Lava Release: Dissolving Monster Technique!"
With a roar, she exhaled a torrent of viscous, highly corrosive acid,
a seething wave that flooded the ground and engulfed Uchiha Kei completely.
The acid sizzled and fumed on contact, melting everything it touched—
stone, steel, even chakra constructs.
Kei frowned beneath his mask.
"Tch… troublesome woman."
He could feel the heat even through his defenses.
Still, this technique was far less effective here,
in an open battlefield where the acid couldn't pool or trap him.
It was powerful—but diffuse.
He sidestepped through the haze, cutting down two Mist shinobi who lunged at him,
then blurred forward.
In the next instant, he appeared behind Mei, his blade poised to strike.
"Die."
"Now!"
Ao's shout came like thunder—
and suddenly, Kei sensed multiple chakra signatures converging on him from all sides.
Ao himself lunged forward, his palm glowing with violently rotating chakra.
It wasn't Gentle Fist, but the sheer intensity of it carried the same precision—
a strike meant to disrupt chakra flow and shatter internal organs.
At the same time, several Mist shinobi threw themselves into close range,
ignoring death, closing the circle around him.
Mei stood perfectly still, a smirk flickering at her lips.
She'd used herself as bait.
Kei realized it instantly.
Of course she had—
he'd focused his heaviest attacks on her every time she'd used her bloodline techniques.
She'd anticipated it, drawn him in, and set the trap.
"Heh… clever," he murmured.
His Sharingan gleamed crimson.
"You think I can't defend myself in this form?"
His voice dropped to a dark, mocking whisper.
"Then watch closely."
The moment the Mist shinobi touched him—
a surge of black chakra exploded from Kei's body.
Not as massive as Susanoo's full form—
but dense, refined, and deadly.
In the blink of an eye, a skeletal ribcage formed around him,
a miniature version of Susanoo's armor—
its jagged ribs encircling him in an obsidian shell.
That alone was enough.
His blade flashed in a horizontal sweep—
and the Mist shinobi around him screamed in agony.
The blade didn't kill them outright.
But the instant the steel touched their flesh,
black flames erupted across their bodies.
The fire clung to them, devouring skin, armor, and chakra alike.
Their screams filled the battlefield—hoarse, raw, unending.
Living torches, writhing in agony.
Even Ao hesitated for half a heartbeat at the sight.
"Damn you!"
He struck, thrusting his glowing palm forward.
His chakra burst on contact with the ribcage—
a tremor of raw, vibrating energy that rippled through the black bone.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the armor.
Kei felt the shock, his ribs tightening from the impact.
Impressive, he thought.
For someone without a dōjutsu,
the man had remarkable timing and precision.
Ao wasn't a Hyūga,
but his control over chakra—
his ability to disrupt another's flow—
was second only to them.
Kei's lips curled faintly.
"Not bad."
Then, in one smooth motion, he angled his sword.
A flash of black steel cut through the steam.
The blade descended toward Ao's neck—
swift, precise, fatal.
But before it could connect—
A sharp kick slammed into Ao's side,
sending him tumbling backward across the scorched ground.
Kei's blade stopped mid-swing, inches from flesh.
His eyes flicked toward the source.
There she was again—
Terumī Mei, her hair damp, her eyes alight with fire and fury.
The battlefield sizzled between them, acid and flame intermingling,
as the mist rolled in once more.
Kei straightened slowly, black chakra still radiating from his frame.
"That woman…" he muttered,
his tone low, unreadable behind the mask.
He could feel his blood stirring again.
A hunt interrupted—
and now, rekindled.
His Mangekyō spun once more.
"This is getting interesting."
---