"Die with us, Uchiha Yorin!"
The first wave were several taijutsu specialists brandishing blades. Yorin judged each one to be at least Seven Ninja Swordsmen–caliber candidates.
But there were no familiar faces—no Momochi Zabuza, no Ringo Ameyuri. In the end these were only would-be swordsmen: strong jōnin, yes—but only that.
"Naïve. I've cut down plenty of the real Seven Swords!"
In a blink his twin thunder-and-fire blades slit their throats—some tried a water clone, but it was useless.
Beneath eyes like sun and moon, every Mist trick lay bare.
One exchange—five would-be swordsmen fell under his blades—and then a murderous chill rolled in.
Ice Release.
Haku's Ice Release in the original tended toward defense and support, but these harder, madder bloodline shinobi cast outright killing techniques, even conjuring shaped ice like magic—beasts forged of rime, and volleys of ice senbon, shuriken, spears, lances, and greatswords crashed toward Uchiha Yorin like a storm.
Unlike naturally frozen water, this chakra-made ice was stronger than steel, carrying a marrow-biting cold that seemed to freeze you at a glance.
Against such foes, even with equal raw power, long fighting meant deep frostbite—dulling the body until you died under Ice Release. That was the terror of the Yuki clan.
Earlier, against the Yuki, the Three-Sannin Harem Team had only managed a draw thanks to Tsunade. Frostbite is an injury, and therefore within the range of medical ninjutsu. Without that debuff, the Yuki were still fierce—but no longer their match. Two of the "sannin" were veteran Kage; the weakest, Terumi Mei, stood at elite-jōnin peak, half a step into Kage.
This time, as Yorin met the Yuki, Tsunade moved to help—Yakura stopped her. Tsunade didn't ask why; she realized it a heartbeat later.
Uchiha Yorin was showing power.
In the shinobi world, power reigns. If Kirigakure is to submit, they must see not only an irresistible carrot, but a force above all. As with Senju and Uchiha: when Hashirama showed power even beyond Madara, the staunchest Uchiha drew back and bowed to the First Hokage.
In such a moment, he needed no help.
So—could Uchiha Yorin alone stand against more than ten Yuki elites unleashing that terrifying Ice Release?
—Easily.
That killing cold, those armored ice beasts, could not pierce Amenonuhoko Susanoo's cuirass. Yorin could simply advance—the world's fastest Body Flicker, backed by shadow clones and the kunai merit-wheel—and sweep them all in an instant—
But that seemed to be exactly what the Ice Release shinobi wanted. As Yorin cut them down, smiles of triumph remained on their faces.
"You've fallen for it!"
It was a trap. Even the earlier "proto–Seven Swords" charge had been part of it. Their seemingly brainless assault was to buy time… for Hōzuki Nuritsuki.
In other words—Jōki Bōi—Steaming Danger Tyranny! The Second Mizukage's peerless finisher—near-infinite stacking explosive force!
Nuritsuki lacked the Second's talent and maniac genius, but through long effort he'd reconstructed the technique. The flaw: far too long a prep time. Useless one-on-one; you needed comrades mad enough to buy that time with blood.
By plan, this was to be saved for Yagura. But using it on Uchiha Yorin would do.
The silly-looking, almost cute clay man swung a great blade, appeared before Yorin, then swelled—BOOM—engulfing him. And then, more explosions—relentless, annihilating—explosions that made you doubt the inventor's sanity itself!
The Third Mizukage's Tower, already cracked and groaning, couldn't take it. With earlier damage plus the chain blasts, the great building thundered down.
Konoha and rebel shinobi alike went white and leapt back, dodging the cascading blasts.
On Konoha's side—Fugaku and the three "sannin" clenched fists, again and again nearly bolting in to save Yorin.
In the end, they held.
Unlike Yorin, cloaked in Susanoo with absurd defense, they were classic glass cannons. In blasts like that, Yorin might be fine; they would certainly die.
If he lived and they died—well, that would be black humor.
So now: believe.
Believe in Uchiha Yorin—the hero who'd wrought miracle after miracle.
"Yorin!"
"Live—live…"
"If that bastard lives, then when he gets back we should just—"
And finally, as all hoped, the dust of blast and collapse cleared—and Yorin stood unharmed.
Hōzuki Nuritsuki's laugh died on his lips. He stared—like gazing at a monster—as Yorin casually brushed dust from his cloak and smiled a smile you could only call evil.
"Laugh," Yorin flicked his blade. "Why'd you stop?"
"Go on—laugh."
Nuritsuki struggled to accept it.
Kirigakure's warmongers had made their last, desperate bid—their greatest technique at terrible cost—
—and hadn't even dirtied the enemy's hem.
Thunk.
Nuritsuki fell to his knees. His spirit broke.
At the same time, the system's cold prompt rang in Yorin's head:
[Quest: Conquer Kirigakure — Objective Achieved. Rewards Granted.]