Hanzō of the Salamander had always been a man of caution. Wherever he went, a personal guard corps followed at all hours, rotating shifts so that he was never without protection. Even when facing new and untested shinobi on the battlefield, he never showed the slightest negligence.
Even in his fight against Raiden Takuma, his first move had not been a head-on strike, but to intercept Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru. Only after ensuring they were stalled did he unleash his trademark jutsu against the mysterious young man.
But what he had failed to realize was that Raiden's strength was far beyond his expectations. Even with his mind prepared to face an opponent at Kage-level, he had still gravely underestimated him.
And because the Land of Water and the Land of Fire were locked in a war, Hanzō's guard corps had been tied down in combat against Konoha forces. They had not arrived in time for the battle—only now, belatedly, did they come rushing through the trees.
"Where is Lord Hanzō?!"
The captain of the guard corps barked the question at Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru. Though Raiden Takuma floated high above them, radiant and obvious, they didn't recognize him. All they knew was that Lord Hanzō had pursued these three Leaf ninja just moments ago.
"Looking for Hanzō?" Raiden's voice was calm, but laced with contempt. "I already blew him apart. He's nothing but blood mist now. The iron taste in the air—the blood you're breathing in—may very well be what remains of your so-called Lord."
At those words, the faces of the guards twisted, rage rising hot and sharp. The captain's jaw tightened, his expression darkening.
"With Lord Hanzō's strength, even the four of you together would stand no chance. I'll deal with you first, then return to report to him myself!"
Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru exchanged uneasy looks, their expressions complicated. They had seen it with their own eyes: Hanzō had been shattered into nothing but a red mist by Raiden's single strike. Strictly speaking, yes—right now they were breathing in the scattered fragments of Hanzō's body.
The thought made Tsunade's stomach twist in disgust. But as for the famed guard corps now glaring at them from across the battlefield—none of them were concerned. Not while Raiden Takuma stood at their side.
"Form up!" the captain barked.
The dozens of elite jōnin under him spread into a practiced formation, circling Raiden in a deadly array.
"Suiton: Water Dragon Bullet!"
From every direction, massive dragons of churning water surged toward Raiden. The roar of dragon cries filled the sky, drowning the battlefield in the violent rush of their approach.
Raiden extended a single hand, pointing to the heavens.
"Rotation of the Stars."
From deep within his body, the cultivated energy of an immortal poured forth—spiritual force transmuted into pure celestial power. It coiled around him, a tidal surge of unseen strength, tugging at every water dragon rushing in his direction.
In an instant, the dragons bent from their paths, drawn into orbit around him. One after another, they circled his body like a storm of living rivers, their scales gleaming with added brilliance as threads of Raiden's immortal energy wove into them.
Then—
With a gesture, he released them.
The water dragons shot outward, faster and fiercer than before, their bodies now darker, denser, infused with otherworldly force.
The guards' eyes went wide. These weren't the techniques they had unleashed. The jutsu had been reborn, amplified beyond recognition.
The impact came with deafening thunder. Dozens of explosions tore across the battlefield, one after another, as if the heavens themselves had collapsed. The ground erupted into deep craters where the guards had stood only seconds before.
When the smoke cleared, only the captain remained upright.
All around him, his comrades lay scattered in the pits, twitching weakly. Blood poured from their mouths, staining the dirt in crimson rivulets. Inside, their organs had been shredded by the force of the dragons. None of them would rise again.
The captain himself had barely dodged the worst of it, but terror gripped his heart. His legs trembled, muscles spasming as if struck by lightning.
For the first time, he believed the words spoken earlier. Perhaps Lord Hanzō truly had been annihilated by this impossibly young man.
Raiden Takuma descended slowly from the sky, each step deliberate as his feet touched the earth. He began to walk forward, closing the distance one pace at a time.
With every step, the captain's heartbeat slammed violently against his ribs, faster, louder, as though his very soul was being crushed.
It was not a man approaching him—it was a beast, a predator, a walking calamity no different from the most feral of tailed beasts.