"Ke-ke-ke! I've said all along it should be done this way!"
"Let us show you the power of the Kaguya clan!!"
On the rebel side, the ones charging first were the Kaguya lunatics.
Every one of them wore strange childlike topknots, shaved off their eyebrows and painted on fake ones, dressed in a way that looked neither human nor ghost—oddities, the lot of them.
But you couldn't underestimate them just because they looked ridiculous.
Kaguya's prodigy, Kimimaro, pushed the Shikotsumyaku bloodline to its limit.
His bones were said to be the world's hardest—an absolute spear in attack, an absolute shield in defense.
Granted, some of that edge came from Orochimaru's Curse Seal of Earth, but Shikotsumyaku's pedigree was the real deal.
Yorin suspected a direct link to Ōtsutsuki Kaguya—very likely a degraded echo of her bloodline's All-Killing Ash Bones.
Since he'd have to fight Kaguya someday, this was as good a time as any to test the caliber of that power—
"These crazies are mine!"
With that, lightning exploded across the field. Yorin snapped into Takemikazuchi Susanoo mode, his merit-wheel of Raikiri kunai fanning wide; he even opened two Gates for fun. The strongest "base" Yorin stepped onto the stage.
In an instant, the crushing aura rocked the battlefield. Many rebels whose wills were lacking lost the desire to fight at first sight—
That included the Kaguya shinobi at the very front—the first to face Yorin.
Under that pressure—hundreds of times what an average shinobi felt—his once cloudy, manic gaze turned clear in an instant.
"Is it too late to regret this now?"
He desperately wanted to ask.
Answer: Too late.
In a blink, the "world's hardest" bone-blade smashed into Yorin's lightning blade—their hardness roughly matched.
But that didn't mean the Kaguya jōnin matched Yorin.
The impact's force made the Kaguya's face blanch—his bones held, but his muscles, blood vessels, tendons—all screamed under the strain the moment they clashed.
No chance—not the same league!
He had to defend and back off, let someone stronger and crazier in his clan die first!
He tried to retract the bone-sword and raise a "bone membrane" to guard his vitals—at Yorin's speed it looked like a turtle crawl, but Yorin let him—for the data point.
Ordinarily, taijutsu was inefficient here; the right call was a Raikiri strike.
But for the test, Yorin swung anyway—the Uchiha-ryū: Piercing Break—
In a flash, lightning blade coated with Raikiri kunai doubled in weight—light blade turned heavy weapon—then he put his whole center into the blow and crashed down.
He'd modeled it off Kiri's Blunt Sword: Kabutowari—made to crack heavy armor.
Using Kiri's own sword-work to kill Kiri—there was a special kind of joy.
He planned to spare most of the coup leaders—but not the Kaguya.
In the anime and in every bit of intel since he'd arrived, they were pure battle-madness. Beasts like that sink with the old era; they don't board the ship of the new—
Kaguya jōnin: "!!!!"
He blocked it—
But he didn't.
The bone membrane remained intact, but Yorin's special issuing drove through it, wrecking the organs beneath.
"AAAGH—"
He bled from seven orifices and collapsed, dead as dead gets.
It sounded long, but it was two exchanges—less than a heartbeat to any chūnin whose eyes couldn't keep up.
The "invincible" Kaguya jōnin lay there, a rictus of pain on his face.
The sight stunned many—especially when Yorin, unsated, looked at them with eager eyes—stun turned to fear.
"Pathetic."
He picked up a shard of bone, pinched it between two fingers, applied Monster Strength with index and middle finger—crack—the "world's hardest" snapped like a potato chip.
"Disappointing."
"The 'battle clan' Kaguya—that's all?"
His gaze burned across the other Kaguya. "Try to amuse me—or I kill you all."
Throats bobbed. Swallowed hard.
Terror gave way to rage.
So he really was looking down on them!
"Everyone together! I don't believe he can kill us all!"
With a roar, the Kaguya lunged—bone-sabers, bone-knives, bone-spikes, bone-spears—after a hail of bone bullets—
Shikotsumyaku: Ten-Finger Drilling Bullets!
Firing finger-bones like rounds—not Kimimaro-level, but far beyond ordinary senbon or shuriken.
Years of fighting born as a storm—they layered dense fire, fingers a blur—like dozens of machine guns opening up at once—
Any normal shinobi would've been a sieve.
But Yorin wasn't normal.
Lightning-fire twin blades batted half the storm; the other half were shredded by the Raikiri Kunai Merit-Wheel.
If Kakashi were here, he'd be floored—Raikiri is an S-rank precision art, not a flooding AOE. Kakashi's small chakra pool and Sharingan tax means two Raikiri is his ceiling.
Yorin? He had thirty-two kunai each running a Raikiri.
He was a moving sword formation—every bone round batted or burned—and for a final check he let a few strike his Susanoo cuirass, to feel it.
Strong. Like 30mm AP—enough to shred a standard earth or water wall.
But to break Susanoo's guard? Naïve.
With the Kaguya's bottom line logged, Yorin grinned, flashed into their ranks, and the gore wind rose.
Elsewhere, the team moved as one.
Pakura, Terumi Mei, Tsunade—the Three Harem Sannin—and Hyūga Hiashi, Uchiha Fugaku—two clan heads—tore into the rebels like tigers into sheep. Even the three rather-embarrassed ex–Seven Swordsmen easily outclassed most foes.
Seeing Hōzuki Mangetsu still shadowing "Yagura," Hōzuki Nuritsuki shouted, "Mangetsu, what are you doing?! Why aren't you helping us?!"
"Because, Clan Head!" the genius snapped back, "the era has changed!"
At the gate, Shisui flung it wide; the Kiri elites staring daggers at him froze on eye contact.
"Sharingan—Uchiha!!!"
Inside the Mizukage Tower, Hōzuki Nuritsuki, dueling Fugaku, screamed like a wounded beast:
"Yagura!!! You collude with Konoha, you cur!!!" Veins bulged like a Hyūga's. The "Yagura" he cursed only sneered in silence.
Konoha's flood poured into Kiri. Before anyone recovered, they seized all key nodes—mechanisms, barracks, armories, and most importantly—the broadcast tower.
Uchiha Yorin's personally penned "Proclamation Against the Yagura" boomed forth in rich Akimichi baritone, echoing across the village—Kiri's ordinary shinobi cheered, "Good! 'Bout time we turned that page!"
The rebels' hearts, on the other hand, fell apart:
"What the—?"
"If we're the anti-Yagura rebels—then who are they?"
Yorin laughed aloud. "You are Yagura's lapdogs—complicit henchmen!"
With that, he drove his blade down, finishing the last Kaguya.
"…What the hell…"
Mumbling in confusion, the Kaguya jōnin sagged and went still.
Yorin exhaled, swept the hall—odd topknots and painted loops all around—none had escaped.
For the famed Shikotsumyaku clan, the Kaguya—this was the period.
"Kimimaro… ah, whatever."
He didn't dwell. He turned to the other battlefield.
Every Hōzuki he stared at went cold to the marrow.