Will I die here?
Or… is all of this just genjutsu—an illusion like a dream bubble, fragile and ready to burst at the slightest touch?
Such thoughts swirled endlessly in Kakashi's mind. He didn't know when they had taken root, only that he was now one step away from saying goodbye to this world.
He gave up resisting. His mind turned instead toward the Pure Land, wondering if he might finally see her—the gentle girl he had longed to apologize to.
Just one more blow, and Hatake Kakashi would be dead. But could it really be so simple?
Aoyama hesitated. He knew anyone could die—even the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, even Konoha's elders who still hadn't shown themselves.
But Kakashi… wasn't the type who died easily. Perhaps because, within the world of shinobi, his very character was too unique, mysterious, formidable, not someone who would just fall and vanish.
And then—
A fire dragon roared across the battlefield, flames tearing up the ground as scorching waves surged forth.
Aoyama's kunai was inches from ending Kakashi's life. He had doubted it would truly be that easy… and indeed, fate itself intervened.
But the fire dragon was too far away—it would have arrived only after Kakashi was already dead.
In that instant, Aoyama made his decision. He canceled his strike, twisted his body, and leapt aside.
Boom!
The fire dragon smashed into the ground, blasting out a crater and sending waves of heat into the air.
From the flames, several dozen figures emerged.
Each radiated suffocating killing intent. To ordinary men, it would have been enough to crush their will.
Even Orochimaru, still locked in combat with his former master, the Third Hokage, glanced toward the newcomers. Even Pain, who until now had calmly watched the great clans of Konoha struggle, turned his Rinnegan gaze upon them.
"Keh—cough, cough… so it was Root who saved me, after all…" Kakashi muttered, blood dribbling from his mouth. His body was battered and bruised, Aoyama's fists having already left their mark.
Leading the group was Aburame Ryoma, the newly appointed commander of Root. His arrival had the potential to shift the tide of battle.
Unless Pain intended to burn his chakra without restraint to annihilate Konoha outright, the sudden appearance of these elite Root shinobi posed a real problem.
Aoyama smirked. "So you're the new head of Root after Danzo, huh? As long as the weeds aren't pulled up by the root, the Root itself will never truly die."
Root shinobi were trained in brutality even harsher than the ANBU. They were killers forged from endless trials, taught to strike down even their comrades if ordered. Survivors of such training were not merely capable—they were the strongest of the strong, veterans of countless missions.
But their killing intent was meaningless here. Orochimaru had spilled more blood in a single night than they had in years. And to Pain, such threats were less than nothing. A single flick of his black rods could cut down enemies like flies.
Konoha's shinobi were ants in his gaze. Even dozens of Root operatives, if they stood before him, would serve only to provide exercise.
Ryoma stepped forward, seizing Kakashi by the arm to keep him standing. His senses told him Kakashi had almost no chakra left—he was finished for this battle.
"Copy Ninja or not," Ryoma said with a frown, "to see you in such a state… It's rare indeed. From here on, you can't fight. Rest—you'll only be a burden."
Kakashi gave a bitter smile. "I don't want it either. But Aoyama's strength is on another level. He's like Guy—he can open the Eight Gates. I can't win. The rest is up to you."
Ryoma nodded firmly. "Don't worry. I've sworn to the Hokage himself: Root will merge with the ANBU. From now on, we'll follow the same laws, the same discipline. No enemy who dares step foot in Konoha will leave alive."
Aoyama raised an eyebrow. "Confident, aren't you? So, sure we won't escape?"
Pain's step faltered slightly. He turned his gaze upon Ryoma. Calm, indifferent, with no killing intent—yet that single glance pressed down on Ryoma like the weight of the heavens.
The Root commander's face darkened. In his pupils, both Aoyama and Pain. After a heavy silence, he spoke:
"The Will of Fire is unyielding. Even if it costs us our lives, we will not let you leave here."
Aoyama laughed, low and cruel. "That doesn't sound like Root at all. I never thought I'd see a Root commander who abandoned Danzo's path, trying to merge with ANBU instead. Heh. Kakashi—do you really believe Root can fit into ANBU?"
Kakashi's expression grew thoughtful. "I believe in the Hokage's judgment. And right now—you're the enemy, aren't you? Stop questioning things that don't concern you."
"…Fair point." Aoyama flexed his fists. "Then let's not waste time. The Fourth Gate burns my body the longer it stays open. Best to finish this quickly."
"Go!" Ryoma barked.
Several Root shinobi moved at once. Kunai fitted with explosive tags sliced through the air. Shuriken followed, cutting off Aoyama's escape paths.
"AAB formation—advance!" Ryoma commanded.
Two shinobi unleashed ninjutsu in alternating waves while the third provided defense. Relentless assault, unbreakable guard.
Aoyama snatched a kunai midair, reversing it back at its thrower before the tag could explode. The shuriken he swatted aside with his own blade, sparks flying.
Then came the barrage—fire, water, earth, wind—ninjustu layering in seamless succession. As expected of Root's elites, their arsenal was vast.
Meanwhile, Orochimaru and the Third Hokage clashed on the other side of the field. Their battle was a storm of jutsu—endless combinations, secret techniques woven together into devastating force.
The Professor, Sarutobi Hiruzen, was a master of such combinations. With chakra still in his reserves, he gradually pressed Orochimaru back, forcing him on the defensive.
The massive snake, Manda, had proven effective earlier, defeating the Monkey King Enma. But now its vast body was a liability, an easy target for Hiruzen's storm of jutsu.
Orochimaru's smirk had long since vanished, his expression tightening as his options dwindled. Summoning Manda may have been a mistake.
But for now, the battlefield burned with chaos, and Root's blades turned toward Aoyama.