Chiyo felt another migraine coming on.She absolutely could not let this Shimizu Mitsuki keep rampaging. If he kept slaughtering like this, no number of Suna shinobi would be enough to throw at him.
Splitting her focus, Chiyo controlled three puppets with each hand, directing them toward the two rasenshuriken that had turned the battlefield upside down.
"Three Treasures Suction Crush!"
Two sets of puppets stacked together in a formation, trying to pull the twin rasenshuriken into the vacuum created in front of them.
But Mitsuki had already predicted Chiyo would use this move.
"Shukaku, fill it with sand!"
"Got it, partner!"
At Mitsuki's command, Shukaku poured sand into the suction field as if flooding it with water. Black sealing formulas spread across the sand, clashing against the Three Treasures Suction Crush's own formula, neutralizing it.
This prevented Chiyo from dispersing the mass of sand in time.
"Bzzzzt—!"
Mitsuki never wasted an opportunity. He immediately guided the rasenshuriken around the wind zone—the very same technique that had once put him at a disadvantage.
The twin rasenshuriken struck directly into several immobilized puppets with their mechanisms exposed.
Twin blue flashes erupted. Howling winds and countless chakra blades formed tornadoes that shredded the remaining puppets into pieces.
The razor storm also severed Chiyo's chakra threads completely.
Thus ended the legacy of the Ten Puppets of Chikamatsu, a fearsome art passed down since the First Puppeteer that had once terrorized countless shinobi.
The ninja world could be strange that way—the overwhelming power of one individual was enough to tip the scales of an entire war.
And ever since Mitsuki returned to the battlefield atop Shukaku like a divine weapon descending, the fight between Konoha and Suna had been utterly one-sided.
Boom!
"Elder Ebizō!"
Things only got worse.
Chiyo turned just in time to see her younger brother slammed through three trees before hitting the ground hard, courtesy of one of Jiraiya's Wild Lion's Mane jutsu strikes.
Ebizō had never been a match for Jiraiya to begin with. Add in Jiraiya's infuriating psychological warfare, and one slip-up had spelled disaster. If not for Ebizō barely deflecting with a kunai in time, he would've been skewered to the ground.
This was the final straw for Chiyo.
Her lips pressed tight, her face full of bitterness.
"Why… why was it always Konoha? First Hatake Sakumo, then Minato Namikaze , and now this Mitsuki.
Why did all the fortune favor them?"
Not far away, Mitsuki stood atop Shukaku's head, already condensing more chakra in his hand.
At this point, Chiyo could no longer rely on the Suction Crush to stop him. She didn't understand why the One-Tail was under his control, but the fact remained—under Shukaku's protection, every ninjutsu and weapon thrown at Mitsuki was effortlessly blocked by walls of sand.
Not even getting close to Mitsuki was possible. Meanwhile, every swing of Shukaku's massive claws or lash of its tail took more Suna lives.
Mitsuki didn't immediately throw the newly-formed Rasenshuriken. The deafening hum alone exerted crushing pressure on every remaining Suna shinobi.
Chiyo swept her gaze across the battlefield.The survivors either glared with hatred or stared blankly in shock.
But one thing was the same for all of them—they feared one person. Or rather, they feared one jutsu.
No one wanted to be cut in half out of nowhere by one of those chakra monstrosities.
Mitsuki's brutal, slaughterhouse-like efficiency had left a deep psychological scar on every surviving Suna shinobi.
Closing her eyes, Chiyo reopened them with firm resolve.
"Send word—Suna forces, retreat!"
Retreat sounded nicer, but everyone knew it was just a veiled surrender.
Mitsuki saw the sharp glint in the old woman's eyes and half-expected her to lose her head and fight to the death. Thankfully, she didn't.
For Konoha, crippled Suna was better than annihilated Suna—keeping them alive would help split Iwa's attention.
Orders spread quickly. Soon after, both Konoha and Suna troops ended their clashes, retreating back to their respective sides.
At the battlefield's center, aside from the mangled remains, only the leaders from both sides remained.
It was hard to believe that the same people who had just been fighting with such ferocity were now standing face-to-face, ready to negotiate.
Supported by a fellow jōnin, Ebizō stood beside Chiyo. She had already given him some treatment, enough for him to move a little. With Suna's forces devastated, they were the only ones left to represent the village.
On the Konoha side, the lineup was overwhelming: Shikaku, Jiraiya, Minato, and Mitsuki himself.
As the greatest contributor to the battle, Mitsuki had no choice but to stand in the front. On their way here, many Konoha shinobi had already begun calling him "Lord Mitsuki".
Strength ruled the shinobi world. Despite his young age, Mitsuki's achievements were undeniable.
Chiyo's gaze lingered on him with complicated emotions. This boy she'd never heard of had single-handedly overturned Suna's momentum.
And worst of all—he had white hair.
Chiyo hated two kinds of people the most: Sakumo… and that old man from Amegakure with the life-support tubes.
Now, she had one more to add: Mitsuki.
"Shimizu Mitsuki… is Rasa still alive?" Chiyo cut straight to the heart of the matter.
It wasn't because she cared much for him personally, but because Suna desperately needed strong fighters now.
As for the One-Tail's jinchūriki, well, Shukaku was already standing right here. That could only mean one thing. She would see if Konoha might return the corpse later—the boy had sealing marks on him, after all.
Both Jiraiya and Shikaku turned their eyes toward Mitsuki as well. They had heard that Minato had sent him back to camp for reinforcements, but none of them knew the exact outcome.
Under everyone's gaze, Mitsuki finally opened his mouth.
And for Suna, the words that left it were nothing but grim news.
"He's dead."