The jungle air was thick with tension. Raizen's eyes flicked across the trees, every nerve screaming that this wasn't just another ambush—it was a predator playing with its prey. The enemy moved like lightning toward Madara, a stone-clad fist aiming to crush him in a single strike.
But Raizen wasn't about to let a walking rock kill his partner—or ruin his day. In a flash, he lunged from the shadows, sharp kunai glinting. His movement blurred into a cloud of chakra mist, a classic Raizen trick that left the enemy guessing.
A sharp, precise thrust—Raizen's kunai pierced through the ninja's back. The man gasped, eyes widening, blood staining his chest. For a heartbeat, it seemed over.
"Ha!" Raizen muttered, but the laugh that followed was wrong. The enemy's body shimmered, smoke curling from his form, and suddenly a wooden stake erupted in Raizen's hands, stabbing into him with brutal precision.
"Die, kid!" The voice was low, cruel, and filled with malice.
Raizen's eyes widened, a cold grin creeping onto his face. Madara's shout echoed behind him.
"Raizen, watch out!"
Exploding with raw chakra, Madara launched himself like a missile toward Raizen, eyes narrowed to lethal slits. Kuwu—the floating, deadly kunai—shot through the air with terrifying speed, slicing the space between him and the ninja.
"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Madara hissed, fury fueling his chakra. Memories of his brother's death flared, and his vision sharpened unnaturally. The Kuwu slowed in his perception, allowing him to dodge, strike, and lift the projectile into the air. He was a force of nature now, moving faster than the enemy could track.
The ninja snarled, frustrated that his attacks kept failing. One direction tried to trap Raizen, the other to crush him outright. Raizen gritted his teeth, analyzing the battlefield mid-air.
And then it happened. The ninja's massive fist smashed toward Raizen's chest. He collapsed to his knees, brilliance fading from his eyes. The enemy's focus didn't waver—he thought Raizen was done.
"Clone!" Raizen's misted body reformed moments later, kunai in hand, striking from the shadows. The ninja sensed it too late—the wind of the incoming attack brushed past, and instinct kicked in.
But he had forgotten Madara. Like a black cheetah, he launched from above, wrapping around the enemy's waist and halting his evasive motion. At that precise moment, Raizen's kunai drove through the ninja's chest.
Blood spattered, red as fire, and the ninja's eyes finally betrayed true fear. The brilliance in them dimmed as he collapsed, lifeless, the jungle falling eerily silent.
Raizen exhaled through clenched teeth, wiping the sweat and blood from his brow. Madara dropped beside him, panting, crimson stains painting the forest floor. Around them, the jungle seemed to inhale, calm once more—but the lingering blood and chaos at their feet told any observer that a fierce battle had just ripped through this quiet green.