Centered on Ryo, the space within ten kilometers trembled. The air solidified, and an invisible storm turned into a transparent shockwave of distorted light. It swept out like a meteor crashing into the sea, setting off a wave of destruction. This was a spiritual shock that struck the soul directly.
Where the shockwave passed, time seemed to freeze.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
At the outskirts of Amegakure, the observing shinobi collapsed as if struck by a hammer to the soul. Their eyes turned blank in an instant, their faces frozen with fear or despair. They fell like harvested wheat.
Within the ten-kilometer radius, Genin, Chūnin, and civilians lost consciousness immediately. The weak had no resistance to the spiritual pressure.
Even elite Chūnin staggered as the world spun around them. Ears rang with static. The next moment, they collapsed, unconscious.
The Jōnin elites felt as if they had been submerged into a thousand-meter-deep ocean. The pressure crushed their skulls and hearts. Breathing halted. Their vision blacked out. A piercing headache made their minds spin. They barely survived, but their limbs were frozen and their thoughts sluggish. They couldn't move at all.
"Aghh!" One Jōnin tried to form a seal, but his fingers locked up. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth. He collapsed to his knees, holding his head and trembling uncontrollably. He was barely conscious, but completely immobilized. This was the effect of the spiritual shockwave. Though still standing, he was on the verge of collapse.
"W-what is this..." Another Jōnin leaned against a cold pipe. His face was pale and his eyes blank. All that remained was the primal scream of fear. He barely clung to consciousness beneath the crushing pressure.
The ten-kilometer radius had become a domain of invisible force. The only sounds were ragged breathing and faint groans. Everyone else had fallen silent in unconsciousness.
At the center of the battlefield, those closest to the epicenter — Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru — experienced it most directly.
At the eye of the storm, Ryo stood like both a radiant sun and a devouring black hole.
His dark red hair whipped wildly, black cloak flaring in the wind. Deep within his icy silver eyes, stars seemed to burn and collapse. His rage from the interrupted strike, combined with the overwhelming fear for Mikoto's safety, caused the Conqueror's Haki to pour out uncontrollably. This was the only outlet for his fury.
"Aaah?!" A roar of rage and disbelief shattered the silence.
Hanzo.
He was the closest to the center of the storm.
The cold sensation of Ryo's fatal strike still lingered. The shadow of death had yet to dissipate. Just when he thought he was about to die, the sword intent locking onto him vanished. What replaced it was an all-encompassing mental pressure that came crashing down like the sky itself.
Thud.
Already gravely injured and mentally fractured, Hanzo collapsed under the weight of the Conqueror's Haki like a broken straw. The iron-bridge stance he had maintained completely collapsed. His legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees in the cold, mud-soaked ground, mixed with blood and poison.
Crack.
His knees hit the ground with a sharp, piercing thud.
His forehead protector hung askew. His mask twisted. Blood poured from the split on his forehead, mixing with the rain. The eyes that once looked down upon the shinobi world were now filled with confusion, rage, and the bitter humiliation of total defeat.
"Cough, cough..." Hanzo coughed violently, each movement pulling at his wounds. His gaze fixed on the figure a few meters away, that dark red back releasing a storm of destruction. Fear and fury clashed violently in his chest. He, Hanzo of the Salamander, now knelt behind his enemy with no resistance. And the man didn't even bother to look back? That silence hurt more than any blade.
"Rrraaaagh!" Ibuse's massive body trembled. For the first time, its violent yellow eyes reflected fear. Its bloodline instincts screamed at it to retreat into the poisoned swamp. But the sight of its master kneeling made it growl anxiously, churning the toxic mire.
Ryo didn't glance behind him.
All his attention was focused on the Flying Thunder God seal being triggered. His mind ignored everything else. Only the summoning request mattered.
Mikoto was in danger. Grave danger.
That realization, obliterated his desire to take Hanzo's head.
Mission? Decapitation? Strategy? None of it mattered compared to Mikoto's safety.
"Bastards..." Ryo muttered under his breath, voice low and filled with murderous intent. It pierced through the lingering shockwave, landing directly in Tsunade's ears.
His cold gaze didn't even glance at Hanzo, treating him as nothing more than an obstacle. His vision seemed to cut through the rain, locking on to the slender figure somewhere in the Konoha camp.
"Suna..." His voice was icy. "You better pray she's alright."
The final word fell.
Ryo spread his arms wide.
His figure blurred.
The Flying Thunder God Technique activated.
He vanished without a trace.
Only a few strands of dark red hair remained in place.
He was gone.
No glance back. No finishing strike. No words.
Only a battlefield frozen in silence, and a "Demigod" whose head was within reach.
Tsunade lowered her arm, eyes fixed on the fading spatial ripple in the crater. Then she turned toward Hanzo, still kneeling in the mud, her face darkening.
"He... left?" Jiraiya's voice was dazed. He looked at the empty center, then at Hanzo still kneeling. "And he's still alive?"
Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed. He glanced at the spot where Ryo had vanished, then looked at Hanzo. A cold, amused smile curled at the corner of his lips. "Heh... target lost. Priority changed. Seems like someone's life weighs far more than a 'Demigod's' head." His tone carried understanding and judgment. In his eyes, Ryo's attachment to bonds was both a weakness and a point of exploitation.
Hanzo, having barely survived, gasped for breath. Every inhale pulled at his wounds, sending waves of pain through his body. His knees soaked in cold, poisonous mud, his whole body shivering from a mix of chill and exhaustion. He raised his head with difficulty. Wet hair clung to his distorted face. His mask was askew, revealing panic, humiliation, and fury at being ignored.
That red-haired devil... left without finishing him?
What could be more important than taking his head? He couldn't understand why he had made such a foolish choice.
The searing rage of humiliation washed away any relief from surviving. It burned through reason.
"Uggh... ah... aaaah!" A beast-like roar tore from Hanzo's throat. He jerked upright, almost collapsing again from his injuries, only staying up by bracing himself with one hand. His bloodshot eyes locked onto the crater, as if trying to burn it into his memory.
Shame. Utter disgrace.
But just as the fury surged, a chill stabbed into his spine.
He looked up.
Three gazes locked onto him.
To the left, Jiraiya stood atop Gamabunta, arms crossed. His eyes were cold and judging, with a mocking smile tugging at his lips.
In the middle, Tsunade stepped forward, arms lowered. Her sharp gaze, like a blade, locked onto him. There was no hesitation or shock in her eyes. Only the raw, focused intent to kill. Like a predator eyeing wounded prey.
In the shadows on the right, Orochimaru watched him with unblinking golden eyes, like a snake sizing up its cornered meal.
The air froze.
The pressure from those three was more suffocating than the lingering force of the Conqueror's Haki.
Their killing intent wrapped around Hanzo's weakened form like invisible chains.
Murderous intent flooded the shattered battlefield.
Hanzo's heart seized, rage extinguished by despair.
He suddenly realized a harsher truth, the reaper had left, but in his place remained three fully capable predators, all watching hungrily. And he was already spent. Even Ibuse had grown sluggish and worn down.
This... was the true end.
"Heh..." Tsunade cracked her knuckles. With a step forward, the steel debris beneath her crumbled. Her golden braid swung behind her as she stared at him like meat on a chopping block. "Let's clean up the trash."
Jiraiya patted Gamabunta's head. The massive toad let out a deep growl as his short blade, Bishamon, gleamed coldly. "Hey, hey, old man Hanzo. That guy went off to save his girlfriend. But..." He grinned without warmth. "Looks like you just ran out of luck."
Orochimaru silently glided forward. A ghostly blue shuriken appeared between his pale fingers. His voice slithered like venom. "What a shame, Hanzo. Your poisonous swamp, your summoned beast, your so-called title... in the end, all it did was prove how powerful he is, and how worthless you are now." He licked his lips. His golden eyes gleamed with greed and coldness. "Let's make your death meaningful."
The overwhelming killing intent nailed Hanzo in place, sinking him into the cold, hopeless mire.
Ibuse let out a low, uneasy growl, trying to shield its master. But its movements were sluggish and strained.
Hanzo's hand trembled violently as it supported his weight. He sucked in a breath. The cold air, mixed with poison and blood, sliced through him like knives. Under the mask, his face twisted to the extreme. Rage, fear, and the madness of a cornered beast twisted in his eyes.
He suddenly raised his head, bloodshot eyes glaring at the three figures closing in. His throat released a desperate roar.
"You Konoha brats... think you can take my head? In your dreams!"
(To be continued.)