Chapter 13: Shikai
This was a brand new ninjutsu for jonin level shinobi, developed by Orochimaru and Danzo based on the principles of the Blut Vene.
Because it required grinding extremely rare chakra metal into conductive paint and liquid, only a few elite Konoha ninja possessed this enhanced version of the technique. Yet its power was undeniable.
The resonance between the chakra metal and the user's chakra formed countless sigil like circuits within the bloodstream, creating a defensive layer strong enough to withstand even large scale detonations. Ordinary jonin level attacks were almost useless against it.
But what truly made this version remarkable was that it didn't fully suppress ninjutsu usage when activated.
Now—it was time to launch a counterattack.
Confirming that the fireball explosion could no longer harm him, Jiraiya immediately began forming hand seals.
The five seals—Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, and Ram—were completed in less than a second. Chakra surged through his palms, and he slammed them onto the ground, forming a ring of intricate characters that glowed faintly.
"Summoning Jutsu!"
"Spiritual techniques are convenient," came the cold reply, "but—Mimic Binding Technique, Forty Three: Boundary Seal."
Before Jiraiya could even react, the masked Uchiha ninja stomped the ground.
In an instant, the air shimmered as the space around them distorted. Jiraiya felt the summoning chakra recoil violently. The feedback burst through his palms, tearing open his skin and splattering blood across the dirt.
The defensive layer of the Blut Vene softened the impact, preventing his arms from being shattered outright—but the backlash was still severe.
Jiraiya winced, clutching his bleeding hand. The distorted ripples of the surrounding space made his vision twist. A cold premonition crawled through him.
He had never heard of any technique—sealed or unsealed—that could interfere with space time ninjutsu itself.
Was this… really a natural ninjutsu?
"This is what happens when a space time technique is interrupted," the Uchiha explained dispassionately. "Though difficult, it only requires disrupting nature's spatial coordinates. Once those are offset, your summoning fails before it even begins."
He vanished again, reappearing behind Jiraiya with a faint whoosh.
Jiraiya swung a desperate kick, but the Uchiha dodged effortlessly. Flames erupted in the distance as another explosion rocked the forest.
It was like watching someone strolling calmly through their own backyard.
Amid the raging firelight, the Uchiha's voice echoed—distorted slightly by the heat.
"Even if you've enhanced your speed and strength with that blood suit, your reaction time hasn't improved. Your only chance was that summoning attempt… now, what will you do? How long can that Blut Vene last?"
"Heh," Jiraiya laughed weakly. "Longer than you'd think, Senior."
"…So it's taijutsu alone then?" The Uchiha tilted his head. "How exhausting."
Jiraiya's breathing grew ragged. His heart pounded erratically.
Just as he prepared to strike again, a wave of suffocating heat rolled over him. His lungs screamed for air. His knees buckled.
This wasn't from overusing chakra—it was as if the oxygen itself had been stripped from the area.
He gasped for breath, his vision swimming.
"Why… can't I breathe? The air… is it gone? Impossible—we're in the open…!"
Jiraiya looked up at the Uchiha, still standing calmly amid the burning trees, dry branch flickering faintly in hand.
Normally, he could have turned this battle around easily—with ninjutsu or sheer willpower. But now, he felt his strength fading fast.
His vision blurred. The air around him grew hotter, heavier. Even the Blut Vene couldn't ease the suffocating pressure.
Each breath came harder than the last. The earlier explosions had devoured the oxygen around them—and Jiraiya's own chakra flame armor only worsened it.
He could barely remain standing.
"Is this poison? Or… that cursed branch's power?"
"Finally noticed?"
"What?"
"It took you long enough," the Uchiha said softly, shaking his head. "If this had gone on a few more minutes, you'd have suffocated under my Shikai, Jiraiya."
Jiraiya froze.
Even as the world wavered before his eyes, he could hear the disappointment in his opponent's tone—an old friend's regret hidden behind the mask.
"My teammates can create an isolated duel space. Do you really think my only ability is to start fires? You underestimate the power reflected by the soul."
The masked Uchiha's tone was calm, but his words carried the weight of conviction.
"Mimicry's First Release—Shikai. Its ability is to convert oxygen into fuel, filling the blade with it before unleashing a burning slash. The faster the swing, the more oxygen it consumes—and the more devastating the strike."
"You're wondering why the air feels thin even in an open forest, aren't you? It's not the world losing oxygen—it's your soul's perception of it. Your lungs refuse to recognize breathing, reinterpreting it as my attack."
"It wasn't the flames I conjured that set this forest ablaze, but the explosion of your own vitality—the will to live burning out of control. The greater your life force, the stronger the flame. And the faster it devours your breath."
His eyes, glowing faintly red behind the mask, narrowed. "I'm sorry. If you can't resist me, you'll suffocate within five minutes."
"…Tch."
Jiraiya's chest heaved as he stared at the silent figure standing in the burning forest. The air shimmered with heat, his lungs screamed for air, and sweat stung his eyes.
If he kept the Blut Vene active, he could resist the flames but not the illusion of suffocation. Yet if he released it, that burning sword would consume him instantly.
His summoning was sealed. Sage Mode unreachable. His defensive techniques—like Needle Jizo—were weaker than the armor that now kept him alive. Maintaining chakra flow left no room for complex ninjutsu.
He was trapped.
But… was it really over?
Gritting his teeth, Jiraiya looked up at the Uchiha standing across the fire. The forehead protector on his brow still bore the mark of Konoha.
"Why…" he asked hoarsely, "why tell me all this? Why reveal your ability?"
"Why?" The Uchiha's voice trembled faintly, a rare flicker of emotion breaking through. "Is there any other reason to explain one's power in battle?"
Jiraiya frowned, trying to stand. But in the depths of the Uchiha's eyes, behind the spinning tomoe, he caught a glimpse of something—sorrow.
"Of course," the man said quietly, "I want you to defeat us."
Jiraiya froze.
"The strength you've shown isn't even one fifth of ours," the Uchiha continued, his tone now almost pleading. "If you could kill us… and free us from this cycle of sorrow… that would be best."
Before Jiraiya could respond, the man vanished from sight, reappearing before him with inhuman speed. The Uchiha deflected Jiraiya's sluggish counter with his smoldering weapon—a dead branch wrapped in fire—and aimed the tip directly at his pupil.
"But the power you three possess isn't enough. You need to understand what kind of strength we wield. Then—learn what hides in the shadows of this world. What watches you from behind."
The red glow of the Sharingan intensified.
"But before that… you must survive. Only the living can warn others. Only survivors carry truth forward. And as a ninja, you've done well—lasting this long. Twenty minutes in front of me… impressive."
His voice hardened.
"But still—not enough."
The burning branch pointed straight at Jiraiya. Gripping his wrist with his other hand, the Uchiha took a deep breath.
A violent surge of pressure rippled outward.
Jiraiya's body was forced to its knees as the scorched earth cracked beneath him. The world around him blurred under the crushing force.
He could barely breathe.
The air trembled as the "branch" began to flake apart, blackened bark peeling away like dead skin. In the rising haze, Jiraiya saw a vision—ash falling endlessly from a burning sky.
Ashes.
The world turned gray. Black dust drifted from above, swallowing everything. Yet within that endless field of ash, faint red embers flickered—like the last fragments of hope.
"Bankai."
The man's whisper carried through the firestorm.
Everything was burning. Everything was ash.
Through his dimming vision, Jiraiya saw the world twist, becoming something he couldn't comprehend.
"Consume… decay… ignite—"
"…Stop it, Kagami."
A calm voice cut through the roar.
A hand grasped the Uchiha's wrist, halting the transformation.
The moon haired man in a mask—his presence silent as wind—stood beside him. Under Jiraiya's dazed gaze, he tossed the unconscious Tsunade and Orochimaru onto the ground beside him.
"If you use that move, he will sense it," the masked man said. "We can't die yet."
"…You're right."
The ash vanished instantly, as though it had never existed.
Lowering the half transformed weapon, the Uchiha exhaled slowly. His gaze lingered on the three battered Sannin lying on the scorched earth.
"Tell every ninja in Konoha—and beyond—this warning," he said quietly. "Be wary of your shadows. Be wary of the dead. Be wary of the ones closest to you."
"Something far more terrifying than any shinobi lurks in the dark. Only unity can face it. But you won't understand—not yet. And we can't explain it directly."
He looked down once more, eyes filled with something between pity and determination.
"Remember this feeling, Jiraiya. Goodbye, ninja of Konoha. If fate allows… we'll meet again."
The crimson eyes softened briefly before turning away.
As the two figures stepped into the moonlight, their forms blurred—vanishing in an instant, leaving behind only the whisper of wind.
In the aftermath, the burning forest crackled quietly. The three Sannin lay battered and gasping amid the flames, tasting the bitterness of defeat.
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