The rider came without any prior warning.
A lone Samurai rode into the quiet valley village, his armor scratched and his voice hoarse. He didn't explain what was coming—only shouted, "Run! Get to the mountains!"
The villagers hesitated. They were simple folk—farmers, woodcutters, and shepherds. Their small village sat between steep cliffs, cut off from the rest of the world. They had heard rumours of "Gates" and "monsters," but those were things that happened to other people, in faraway lands.
But the look in the Samurai's eyes told them this was real.
Plus, he was sent by their lord, so it's not like they could truly refuse even if they wanted to.
So they packed what little they could carry—some rice, a few blankets, a water gourd—and fled toward the narrow trail that led up to the mountain.
Halfway up, the ground trembled.
A horrible roar echoed through the valley, followed by screams. When they looked back, they saw the Samurai and a few young men who had stayed behind already fighting.
The monsters were not like anything they had ever seen. Some had the shape of men but were swollen and twisted, their flesh covered in slime and glowing green sores. Others looked like beasts—wolves, boars, and even birds—but all were warped and twisted in some manner or form. As if a mockery of every living being that walked.
The fight didn't last long. The Samurai's sword flashed again and again, but there were too many. He was swallowed by the tide of monsters. The young men fell one after another.
And then, the monsters began running after the rest of the villagers climbing up the mountain.
The villagers screamed and stumbled, dragging their children, their elderly, their wounded. But how could bare feet outrun monsters?
A young mother clutched her baby to her chest, her other hand gripping her daughter's wrist as they ran. But the little girl tripped over a stone and fell. The mother spun around, reaching for her—but the monsters were already there, their rotten jaws open, claws raised.
Then—
Boom!
A gust of wind shook the trees as someone landed between the girl and the monsters.
The villagers saw only his back. A dark cloak fluttered behind him. His hair, black as night, moved in the wind. He looked young—too young—but he stood calm, unshaken, as though the monsters didn't scare him at all.
He raised his hand.
"Cleave."
As if by a divine judgement, the world split in half.
In an instant, everything before him—trees, boulders, and monsters—was sliced cleanly in two. The ground itself was sliced open where his strike passed.
For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then the halves of the monsters slid apart and fell lifelessly to the ground.
The young man turned. His eyes were sharp, but there was a soft smile on his face. He lifted the crying girl, brushed dust from her clothes, and carried her back to her stunned mother.
"Go," he said quietly. "Keep climbing. Don't look back."
The mother bowed her head, trembling, unable to find words.
When she looked up again—he was gone.
—————
He arrived back at Temari's base just as the sun began to set behind the mountains.
It wasn't much of a camp—just a ring of tents and hastily raised barricades in a rocky valley. Barely thirty shinobi held this outpost, and most currently out on scout and eliminate missions. But for now, it was all they had.
Temari stood near the largest tent, maps and scrolls spread before her, her expression grim. When she saw him appear, a flicker of relief passed through her eyes before fading back into forced calm.
He gave his report.
"Most of the villages are gone," he said quietly. "Wiped out or overrun. The corpses of the villagers were missing, likely taken back to the Ahramoths to be turned into more undead monsters.
Temari's hands tightened around the edge of the table.
"I saved as many as I could," he continued. "Killed every monster I saw… but there are too many. They're crawling everywhere in these mountains. This is spreading faster than anyone imagined. I don't think the Land of Mountains will recover from this."
For a long moment, no one spoke. The only sounds were the whistling wind and the distant hum of the desert insects.
Then a shinobi came running, dust clouding behind him.
"Commander! We've received word from the western ridge! The town there has been completely overrun!"
Temari didn't react outwardly—just gave a short, tired nod.
Another messenger rushed in before the first could even leave.
"Lady Temari! A large force of monsters—at least a few thousand—was spotted moving through the southern valley!"
A ripple of tension passed through the camp. A thousand monsters was bad. A few thousand meant disaster for whatever village or town the attacked.
Temari didn't hesitate. "Sogo, Fuyuhiko, Yuma. The three of you go. Kill as many as you can from a distance. Don't engage directly. Cut off their advance and burn everything that moves. If it gets too dangerous then you have my permission to retreat."
"Yes, Commander!"
The three shinobi she'd named vanished in flickers of motion.
He watched her silently. Even in the dimming light, he could see the exhaustion beneath her calm. She was trying to hold everything together—with too few people, too little rest, and an enemy that didn't stop coming.
Moments later, yet another shinobi appeared, his face pale from fear and exhaustion. "Lady Temari! The city of Lord Hatsu is under siege! The monsters are everywhere— Lord Hatsu is asking for help!"
The name made his gut tighten. Lord Hatsu's city wasn't large—maybe thirty thousand people—but if it fell, and those people were turned into monsters… the entire region would drown in blood.
Their only saving grace so far had been the fact that Land of Mountains was a pretty harsh region, and thus had sparse population. A few villages scattered here and there. So, the amount of humans that had been turned into monsters was still manageable, if barely.
The fall of the city would change that. Even thirty jounins and elite jounins would have no chance facing an army of thirty thousand monsters.
Temari went still at the report.
No one spoke for a while, waiting for her decision.
Finally, she reached down and lifted her war fan. The steel glinting in the setting sun.
"Everyone, prepare to move," she said firmly. "We're taking this one ourselves."
She turned toward him. "You're with me."
He nodded once with a smile. "Of course sensei."
In moments, the camp erupted into motion—shinobi strapping on armor, checking weapons, tightening headbands.
By the time the moon rose over the mountains, the strike force was already gone—thirty shadows racing across the desert toward a city that might not see another dawn.
—————
They arrived in time to see the city at the verge of collapse.
Flames licked the dark sky, painting the night in shades of orange and red. The cries of soldiers echoed through the smoke as arrows, burning oil, and Samurai kenjutsu arts lit up the walls.
Thousands of defenders stood shoulder to shoulder atop the battered walls, their eyes bloodshot, their hands trembling, yet refusing to fall.
Below them, the monsters came like a flood.
They clawed, climbed, and threw themselves at the stone ramparts, their bodies a grotesque mix of man and beast. Rotting skin stretched over twisted bones. Some ran on all fours, others crawled with too many limbs. The stench of decay filled the air.
"The western wall needs our help." He said, his sensing ability noticing the fewest number of defenders there.
Temari gave a brief nod and then shouted. "Reinforce the Western walls!"
He and Temari arrived on the western front alongside their team.
The wall was cracked, bodies piled high, and the monsters were climbing over their dead to reach the top. Dozens of defenders fought desperately to hold the wall, but they were being overrun.
Temari didn't hesitate.
She leapt onto the wall, fan snapping open with a metallic clang. Her eyes burned with resolve as she swung the fan once—her chakra flaring like a storm.
"Wind Release — Great Sickle Storm!"
The air screamed. A wave of slicing wind tore through the battlefield, a massive crescent that cut through monsters, stone, and even the grove of trees beyond.
Hundreds of creatures were shredded into mist and blood. For a few heartbeats, the battlefield went completely still.
Then the cheering began.
But he could see it—the strain in her movements, the way her chakra dipped sharply after that attack.
That kind of power, that kind of attack couldn't be used often.
Even as an Elite Jounin, there were limits to what one could accomplish. Especially in a battlefield of this size.
"Spread out!" Temari shouted to the shinobi behind her. "Go to the other walls. Attack their flanks! Don't let them overwhelm the defenders!"
He jumped down into the chaos. A monster lunged at him, mouth open wide and dripping black fluid. He sidestepped, swung his sword, and cleaved its head clean off.
Another came—a hulking mass of flesh and muscle with three arms. He spun, chakra flowing into his fingers, and slashed through its chest. It fell, spraying black blood onto the gras.
The other Suna shinobi, few as they were, joined the fight, forming small strike teams. Powerful sword strikes burst from the walls, cutting through the monsters. Wind users pushed them back, tearing through their ranks. Together, they turned the tide.
He let out a sigh of relief, feeling lucky that most of these monsters were raised from the corpses of normal humans and animals. So even if their strength and speed was enhanced after being raised as undead monsters, there was a big gap between them and the Elite shinobi of Suna.
But that also made him wonder… where were the monsters raised from the corpses of the shinobi who had died in the first battle to stop the breach?
He supposed he could worry about that after this battle.
Minutes passed. And The screeches of monsters finally began to fade. The defenders regained the upper hand.
When the last of the monsters fell, a silence spread across the battlefield. The soldiers on the walls started to cheer.
They had won. The city was safe.
Or so they thought.
The ground began to rumble again. And the cheering died near instantly.
From the sea of corpses below, something was moving.
The bodies twitched, then started melting together—skin, bone, and muscle fusing into lumps of writhing flesh. The air filled with the sound of tearing and grinding as the mass grew and grew. Dozens of corpses merged into one. Then hundreds.
In moments, the battlefield was filled with giants. Hundreds of them.
The largest stood as tall as the city walls, its head a cluster of human faces screaming in unison. Another crawled on six giant limbs, each one ending in claws the size of a man.
"Everyone, fall back!" Temari ordered, her voice calm but sharp. "Form sealing teams and target their joints!"
The shinobi moved quickly, but the giants were faster. One of them swung its arm, smashing through a tower and sending defenders flying like dolls. Another punched the wall, and a giant crack formed on its surface.
Temari raised her fan again, summoning another storm of slicing wind. The gust cut into the monster's legs, carving deep gashes, but it didn't fall—it only roared louder, regenerating as black steam hissed from its wounds.
He cursed under his breath and leapt forward. His blade glowed with pale blue light as he gathered chakra into it, the wind coiling around the steel like a living thing.
He dashed across the crumbling wall, and slashed through a monster's tendons. It howled, crashing into the others and crushing its own kind beneath its bulk.
Another large one lunged at him, its clawed hand large enough to crush a carriage. He focused, vanishing in a burst of speed and reappearing above its head.
"Wind Release: Giant Wind Blade!"
A large, focused blade of air erupted from his swing, slicing through the creature's skull, and the rest of its body The body, bisected in two from the middle, fell over, shaking the ground.
But there were still three left. Temari landed on the ground and fought alongside him, her fan movements slower now, her breath uneven.
He saw the giant monster strike the top of the wall, and three Jōnin who'd been defending that area, vanished in a spray of blood, crushed instantly.
Temari's eyes went cold. "Enough."
She slammed her fan into the ground. "Wind Release — Desert Tempest!"
A hurricane exploded outward, hurling sand and debris in all directions. The storm tore through half of the giants, turning them into small chunks of meat. Even the largest giant lost one of its legs. But Temari staggered, almost falling to one knee. Her chakra was nearly drained.
He landed beside her, gripping his sword tightly. The last few giants lumbered toward them, each step shaking the ruined battlefield.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. The world fell silent for a heartbeat. He felt the air currents swirl around him, felt the pulse of his chakra merge with them. Then he opened his eyes.
He raised his sword. "Wind Release: Ten Thousand Wind Blades!"
The world turned white.
A single swing—so fast it split the air itself, as countless wind blades emerged from his blade. The chakra sword itself cracked slightly under the pressure of the intense attack and for a moment, he feared that it would shatter. But thankfully, it managed to hold on.
The pressure tore through everything in front of him, slicing clean through the remaining giants. Their bodies froze for a moment, as if time had stopped, before collapsing into bloody chunks of meat.
The shockwave traveled across the battlefield, scattering sand and smoke for miles.
When the wind finally died down, nothing remained of the monsters but a sea of putrid blood.
He exhaled slowly, lowering his sword. Temari looked up at him, her face pale from chakra exhaustion.
She took out a chakra replenishing pill and popped it in her mouth before speaking. "I didn't know you were that strong."
"A man's gotta have some secrets, no?" He asked with an exhausted grin. "How else am I supposed to impress princesses like you?"
Temari snorted and jumped over to the top of the wall. To survey the battlefield, check over the remaining shinobi under her command, and do whatever else a commander is supposed to do.
Meanwhile, he looked at the battlefield once again, and then at his chakra metal sword, that was now filled with cracks.
Well… no way he would be able to use it for much longer. It would need to be reforged. Hopefully Temari's dad is feeling generous and gets it done for him for free. Or better yet, gives him a better sword.
He sighed.
At least the city was saved.
The knock on his door came with the first light of dawn.
When he glanced toward the window, he saw the sunlight cutting through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold hue.
A maid stood at the door, bowing politely. "Ken-sama, Lady Temari has requested your presence."
He blinked at the honorific added to his name.
Ken-sama? That was new.
After the chaos of the siege yesterday, Temari had accepted Lord Hatsu's invitation to rest in his castle for the night. Everyone had been too drained to refuse such an invitation. Even the most battle-hardened shinobi needed a roof, food, and a few hours of sleep after a battle like that.
"I'll be there in a minute." He said, dismissing the maid before his gaze went toward the System panel.
1589 Undead Monsters killed!
You've gained 108 experience points!
Level 3 (Next level up: 274/400)
23 Undead Amalgamations killed!
You've gained 87 experience points!
Level 3 (Next level up: 361/400)
Uh… so close to the next level up. But this war was far from over. He was confident he'd reach it before this mission ended.
With that thought, he closed the system window and rose to his feet. Time to see why Temari had decided to wake him at this ungodly hour.
As he dressed and stepped into the hallway, the guards stationed outside immediately straightened and bowed. Their eyes held something he wasn't used to seeing—respect. Awe. Gratitude.
He gave a small nod in acknowledgment, though unease twisted in his chest.
So… word's spread already, he thought. He wasn't sure why that even surprised him.
It seemed his days of pretending to be just a "stronger-than-average genin" were finally over.
The castle's halls were quiet, lined with tapestries and flickering lamps. The air smelled faintly of incense and medicine. And he could hear the groans of the injured guards who were being treated within the castle rooms.
He followed a servant up the steps and stopped before a large wooden door.
He knocked lightly.
"Enter," came Temari's voice.
When he opened the door, he froze for a heartbeat.
Temari was there, seated at a table with a cup of tea in hand, her expression calm but tired. Across from her stood Gaara—his red hair unmistakable, his presence heavy and cold as ever. Beside him, Kankurō leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, studying him intently.
"...You're awake," Temari said, setting her cup down. "Good. We have much to discuss."
He stepped inside, eyes flicking briefly to her chakra flow. Even without using Kagura's Mind Eye actively, he could tell—she was still drained. Her chakra reserves hadn't recovered completely, though her posture suggested she was ready to fight again if needed. Typical Temari.
"You called for me?"
She nodded. "Yes. My brothers arrived early this morning. Along with the rest of our army."
He blinked at that info, and then exhaled soltly, relief easing into his shoulders. "So, the reinforcements are finally here… How many?"
"About a thousand shinobi." Temari said, leaning back into the chair. "Led by Chiyo-sama, Ebizo-sama, Pakura-Sensei, my brother Gaara, Hana-sama and Shoji-sama."
He raised an eyebrow at her words. He had no idea who the last two were, but considering the others she named in her list and the 'sama' she added to their names, it seemed like those two were S-class shinobi as well.
"So… six S-class shinobi?" He asked, if also to confirm that Chiyo and her brother counted as one. They most likely did, thanks to the vitality and power granted by the monster cores but he wanted to be sure nonetheless.
"Yes." Gaara spoke up finally. "Two for each Ahramoth."
"I see. That's… good. Add Baki-sama and we have like what… 7 S-class shinobi in the battlefield."
"Baki-sama is dead." Kankuro told him and his good mood vanished in an instant, replaced by shock.
"What? How?" He asked.
"One of the Ahramoths attacked the Capital city of the Land of Mountains." Temari told him in a mournful voice. "Baki-sama went to reinforce the city with his team and fell to the Ahramoth."
"Oh…" He said, feeling quite speechless at the moment.
Baki was strong. If he fought that guy in a life and death battle, then he wasn't completely sure of his victory. To hear that he had died was a blow.
He was silent for a moment before he asked. "What next?"
"Next, there'll be a meeting to decide how to move forward from here." Temari said, giving him an amused looked. "You have been invited to attend the meeting as well, Genin Ken."
He sighed. Yup. His days of anonymity were truly gone.
—————
He followed Temari and Gaara through the tall double doors, the guards outside bowing as they passed. Inside, rows of high-ranking shinobi sat around a long wooden table, maps and scrolls spread open.
As they stepped in, all eyes turned toward them.
The looks were mixed—some curious, others cautious, and a few openly suspicious. These were the strongest of Sunagakure's forces, warriors who had survived countless battles. And they weren't used to outsiders, much less someone who had once been written off as just another "strong Genin."
Kankurō wasn't allowed into the meeting room. Only S-class shinobi and elite Jounins were allowed to attend the meeting. And Kankuro wasn't at that level yet.
He caught Kakuro's frustrated expression from outside the door before it closed shut behind them, and he couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
Poor guy/
Then, something made him stop. Something that he hadn't paid attention to before entering the room.
He extended his senses—and froze, his earlier thoughts confirmed,
Eight. There were eight S-class chakra signatures in the room. But Temari told him that Suna only sent six.
He looked around carefully. The first few were familiar—Lady Chiyo, and her brother Ebizo. Both looking much younger than someone their age should. No doubt thanks to all the cores they'd consumed over the past decade.
Next two were Pakura, and Gaara himself. And sitting beside Pakura were two other S-class wearing Suna's headband. A tall, sturdy guy wearing heavy leather armour, and a beautiful woman with long free flowing blond hair.
That made six.
The other two were… not from Suna.
He found them sitting apart from the rest, clad in black cloaks patterned with red clouds that he could recognise in his sleep.
The Akatsuki.
One was Jūzō Biwa, the ex-Mist swordsman whose massive blade rested against his shoulder.
Why Juzo Biwa didn't join Konoha and went rogue instead was a mystery. But one that he didn't care much about.
What he cared about, was the presence of Juzo Biwa's teamate.
Because his teammate was none other than Rōshi, Jinchuriki of the Four-Tails.
The man was wearing the typical black and red Akatsuki robes, and his calm, disciplined chakra told him that he was no captive. He was working with them willingly.
His expression became weird at the sight.
Since when did the Akatsuki start taking in Jinchurikis within their ranks? Wasn't their entire goal to capture Jinchuriki and extract the Bijuu inside them?
He leaned toward Temari. "Hey, do you know who those two are?" He asked in a whisper.
"Yeah. They're part of a mercenary group called Akatsuki," she said quietly. "They help smaller nations deal with the Gate problems… for a steep price."
Akatsuki acting as a Mercenary group? That didn't surprise him. Because that's exactly what they did in the canon timeline before they launched their Jinchuriki capture plan. But the presence of Roshi certainly did.
The old Akatsuki he remembered would never have done that. Which meant their purpose… had changed. But into what? He couldn't tell.
Before he could think further, Chiyo's sharp voice cut through the murmurs.
"Sit down," she said, not looking up from the map. "We're beginning." Her tone was calm but absolute. The room obeyed immediately. Even Gaara and Pakura took their seats without a word.
Chiyo finally raised her head, eyes sweeping across the table. "The Land of Mountains is collapsing," she said simply. "All three Ahramoths are confirmed within its borders. Each one commands an army large enough to erase a minor nation. We cannot allow them to move any closer to Wind Territory."
She motioned to a map laid flat before her—three red circles marked across the mountain ranges, each surrounded by smaller dots representing monster hordes.
"We'll separate into two strike teams, and take out one Ahramoth each, before moving to deal with the final one." She said. "Each team will lead five hundred shinobi each. The longer we delay, the more these creatures breed. We strike now, while they are still split apart."
Ebizo cleared his throat. "And the Akatsuki mercenaries?"
"They will each assist one our strike teams." Chiyo said, glancing briefly at Jūzō and Rōshi. "They kill what needs killing and they get paid."
Neither mercenary responded. Jūzō just smirked faintly while Rōshi closed his eyes again in silence.
Chiyo tapped the map once more. "The first strike team will be led by me Pakura and Juzo Biwa. The second will be led by Ebizu, Shoji and Roshi."
Then her gaze shifted toward Gaara and the blond woman. "The third Ahramoth is slower but commands the largest horde. Gaara and Hana will intercept it. You will not attempt to kill it. That is an order. Do not fight it. Merely delay its army and thin out the numbers until the others arrive."
Temari spoke up from her seat. "I'll accompany Gaara."
Chiyo gave a small nod, seemingly not caring much about the issue. "Do as you will. And take whoever you trust most." She said, glancing at him for a brief moment before she went back to studying the map.
A few heads turned at that. He could feel their measuring gazes—the unspoken question of what a boy like him could contribute to an S-class operation. But thankfully, none said anything, and the meeting continued.
After half an hour more, the final details were decided upon.
"Then it's settled," Chiyo said. "We all leave immediately. The longer we delay, the larger their army grows, and more dangerous the task becomes."
The meeting dissolved into motion after that. Orders were given, maps rolled up, messengers dispatched.
As he followed Temari and Gaara outside, the blond woman from earlier approached them. Three large storage scroll strapped to her back, as black dust swirled around her.
"Disciple," Hana said as she approached, casually ruffling Gaara's hair. To his surprise, Gaara didn't flinch away—in fact, he leaned slightly into her touch.
Before he could process that, Hana's gaze shifted to him. For a brief moment, it felt like a predator's eyes were on him—sharp, assessing, dangerous. Then the feeling vanished as quickly as it came.
"And you…" she said, studying him with mild curiosity. "You're Temari's disciple, right? I don't believe we've met before."
"We haven't." He said, and then hastily added "…Hana-sama."
"Just call me Hana." She said with a shrug before turning to Temari. "Will he be joining us, Temari-chan?"
"He will, Hana-sama," Temari said confidently. "His chakra sensing range extends up to ten kilometers in every direction."
"Truly?" Hana's gaze returned to him, this time with sharper interest. "That's impressive—for someone so young. Though if even half the rumors I've heard about you are true, that's hardly the most remarkable thing about you."
He scratched the back of his head, unsure how to respond. Who was this woman, exactly? He knew she was one of Suna's new S-class shinobi—and probably Gaara's teacher—but beyond that, he knew almost nothing about her.
Temari, thankfully, noticed his confusion and came to his rescue.
"Ken, Hana-sama is the daughter of the Third Kazekage," she explained. "About ten years ago, after consuming several high-grade cores, she awakened her dormant bloodline—the Magnet Release. She now wields Iron Sand as her weapon, just like her father once did. She's also the personal disciple of my father, the leading candidate for the position of Fifth Kazekage, and one of the strongest kunoichi in the village."
Huh…
He'd heard that consuming high-tier cores could sometimes awaken dormant bloodlines, but this was the first time he'd actually seen proof of it.
He also vaguely recalled a boy from that fanfic Boruto who used Iron Sand and couldn't help but wonder if that kid had any connection to her.
Still… to think she was both Rasa's personal disciple and Gaara's sensei. This really was a different world altogether.
"Oh, Temari-chan, you praise me too much," Hana said, cupping her cheeks in mock modesty. But despite the sarcasm in her tone, he could sense that the compliment genuinely pleased her.
"But that aside," Hana continued, her expression turning serious, "we should move out soon. That monster army won't wait for us."
"Agreed," Gaara said quietly. Sand began pouring from the ground and swirling through the air until a solid platform formed beneath his feet. The mass rose steadily, lifting him off the ground.
"Get on," Gaara said flatly, his face unreadable.
Temari and Hana stepped lightly onto the sand platform, and he followed a moment later.
"Channel your chakra into your feet," Temari warned. "Stick to the sand."
That was the only notice he got before the cloud surged upward, shooting away from the castle and into the open sky.
"So…" Hana said suddenly, sidling closer until she draped an arm casually over his shoulders. The movement pressed her breasts against his arm, and he stiffened in more ways than one.
"I couldn't help but notice," she drawled, amusement glinting in her eyes, "you and Temari-chan don't exactly act like teacher and student." Her lips curved into a teasing, foxlike grin. "So tell me—are you two fucking?"
"Hana-sama!" Temari exclaimed, her face flushing scarlet as he choked on his own saliva.
Hana burst into laughter, clearly delighted by their reactions.
"Oh, you two are just precious," she teased, finally releasing him and moving over to wrap an arm around Temari instead. "Though I couldn't help but notice—you didn't exactly deny my words."
"What—no! We are not sleeping together!" Temari sputtered.
Hana grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
"There's nothing like that between us!" Temari nearly shouted, and he quickly nodded in agreement beside her.
"But you want there to be, don't you?" Hana teased, waggling her eyebrows playfully. Temari groaned and tried—unsuccessfully—to push the S-class kunoichi away who stuck to her like a limpet.
"Sensei," Gaara's calm voice cut through the banter, his tone flat but edged with warning. "Please behave yourself. Especially in front of outsiders."
Hana smirked. "But the boy wouldn't be an outsider if he and your sister got together, would he?" She reached out to ruffle Gaara's hair again, but the redhead smoothly ducked out of reach.
"Sensei," Gaara repeated, glaring at Hana who finally let out a sigh.
"All right, all right," Hana grumbled. "You're only twelve and already act like a grumpy old man. Keep that up and see how many girls you get." She sniffed dramatically, eyes glistening with exaggerated tears. "And to think—you used to be so cute when you were little—eep!"
A hole suddenly opened in the middle of the sand cloud, and Hana dropped straight through it, screaming as she plummeted toward the mountains below.
He blinked, then turned to Temari with a worried look. "She'll be fine… right?"
"Unfortunately," Temari muttered, her face still red—whether from embarrassment or anger, he couldn't tell.
A moment later, a shadow rose from below. Hana reappeared, soaring upward on wings of gleaming iron sand, yelling something about showing everyone Gaara's baby pictures.
He chuckled softly. He could tell that the journey over to the Ahramoth and his army was not going to be boring at the very least.
They arrived at the place where the Third Ahramoth and its army had last been seen.
The land was dead.
The soil had turned pitch-black, cracked and brittle like burnt bone. Not a blade of grass remained, not a tree stump nor an insect. Even the air smelled wrong.
The mountains nearby were slowly crumbling as well, their rocky faces eaten away by whatever corruption the Ahramoth and its army carried with it.
Farther south, the land would flatten out into barren plains, and then into the endless dunes of the Land of Wind.
They couldn't let the Ahramoth reach that far.
If it crossed into Wind Territory, hundreds of thousands more would die.
Their group slowed to a hover. Hana narrowed her eyes, scanning the desolate valley below. The corruption left behind by the horde formed a clear trail—a wide scar of death stretching as far as the eye could see.
It was obvious to them where they needed to go. So, they moved. Gaara's sand cloud speeding up even further as they chased after the undead monster army,
Minutes passed before he finally saw it: a gray haze in the distance, moving like mist across the hills. As they drew closer, the haze resolved into a mass—an army so vast it seemed to swallow the horizon.
Even from the sky, it was hard to see where it ended.
The undead were spread across the entire valley—an ocean of movement and decay. Most were human or animal corpses, but scattered among them were shinobi undead—their bodies half-preserved, the remains of their old uniforms still clinging to them.
Their movements were faster, sharper, their postures too disciplined to mistake for mindless beasts.
Above them, blackened birds flew in dense flocks, wings stretched wide enough to blot out the sun.
Temari's eyes narrowed. "At least a hundred thousand," she said grimly.
Hana shook her head. "More. Closer to two hundred thousand… maybe higher. They stretch past the far ridge. This scale is far beyond what I expected."
The words made his stomach tighten. Two hundred thousand monsters—all under one creature's command.
It seems that for all the villages he and Temari saved, a dozen others were attacked, and their civilians dragged away to be turned into undead monsters.
No one spoke after that. They all understood what it meant.
Then, without warning, Gaara raised a hand. An enormous cloud of sand flew out of his gourd and, swirled around him like a living storm.
Hundreds of sand bullets formed from the sand, glinting faintly in the dull light before launching downward with a single motion. They cut through the air like meteors, striking the flying beasts with explosive force.
The sky erupted in chaos.
Plumes of dust filled the air as the sand bullets exploded, shredding wings and tearing through rotten flesh. Dozens of undead birds dropped instantly, crashing into the hordes below in bursts of black smoke.
That was the signal.
The entire army reacted as if pulled by invisible strings. The flying monsters screeched, regrouping together before they flew up toward them from every direction.
Hana spread her arms wide, Iron Sand flying out from within her storage scroll to surround them, creating a giant circular barrier with little holes to let them see the outside world.
The first wave of birds slammed into it with heavy thuds, their claws screeching against the metal surface.
That was as far as they went before the Iron sand dome suddenly erupted with hundreds of sharp spikes, skewering the monster birds, and turning their bodies into Swiss cheese.
The first wave of monster birds fell, and another took their place, only to meet a similarly gruesome end.
But for all that she seemed to be winning, Hana didn't look happy at all.
"What's wrong?" He asked, noticing the faint worry in her emotions.
"Their blood is highly acidic." Hana explained. "It's eating away at my Iron Sand. It shouldn't be a problem for now, but with how vast the army is… Gaara, it seems that the task of dealing with the main army will rest upon your shoulders."
"No problem." Gaara said, giving a serious but confident nod.
Then, just as Hana was done skewering another wave of undead bird monsters, it happened.
A sound rolled through the air—deep, guttural, and impossibly loud. The sheer pressure of it rattled their eardrums and sent ripples through Gaara's sand.
He flinched, clutching his ears in pain and found warm fluid coming out of his ears. "What the hell was that?!" He asked, looking to the others for answer. "Some kind of sound attack?"
Hana, who had covered her ears with Iron Sand in the nick of time, shook her head. She said something in reply but with his ears still ringing, he was unable to catch her words.
Regardless, the reason for the sound became obvious to them pretty quickly.
Below, the birds abruptly broke their offence. One by one, they veered off, flying away from the battle entirely. Retreating.
He stared at them in disbelief. The undead monsters, to his knowledge, had never retreated before. Even when they were facing a battle that they were sure to lose, they kept coming. Mindless as they were.
This was the first time he'd seen them retreating.
And as if that wasn't enough, the horde on the ground shifted formation as well, creating organised clusters rather than random masses.
It was then that he started to realise the magnitude of the battle in front of them.
Till now, they were merely fighting monsters without any intelligence. But now… they were about to fight an army with a general at its head. One capable of ordering all its troops at once with a single roar.
If that wasn't terrifying, he didn't know what was.
He slowly felt his hearing return, the painful ringing in his ears fading enough for him to make out the others' voices again. He turned to them. "So… what's the plan?"
Gaara's eyes didn't leave the horde as he spoke up. "The plan," he said quietly, "is to destroy the army."
Then, without another word, he raised both hands. "Sand Tsunami!"
And the earth below exploded.
He finally understood what Gaara had been doing all this time. The boy had been seeding his chakra into the ground—quietly, methodically, breaking the bedrock apart and converting it into sand.
And now, that sand answered his call.
A thunderous wave rose from the valley floor, easily a hundred meters tall. It rolled forward like a desert tide, swallowing everything in its path. The sound of it alone was deafening—grinding rock and bone together into dust.
The first line of monsters vanished beneath the churning sand, their bodies shredded to pieces. Then, the second, and the third. The sand was relentless—an avalanche that devoured everything in its path.
He'd seen Gaara do this once before—against Kimimaro in the canon timeline—but this was different. This was on a far larger scale. Done by a Gaara who was probably far stronger than his canon counterpart.
Then, the air shook again.
A low, guttural sound reverberated through the valley, deep enough to make his bones ache.
He winced, chakra flaring in his ears as he reinforced his eardrums. The sound was like thunder underwater—less of a noise, more of a pressure that pressed against every bone in his skull.
He glanced down, and noticed that the monsters were retreating. Not mindlessly running, but with direction. They were pulling back from the tsunami's path, regrouping beyond the range of Gaara's technique.
They weren't faster than the sand wave so quite a few still died, but many that were further away managed to escape its range.
When the Tsunami finally died down, the battlefield looked like the surface of another world.
Thousands of undead were buried or crushed beneath layers of sand, but for all the damage it did, the thousands it killed were only a small fraction of the army.
The rest still stood—over two hundred thousands strong, their ranks stretching toward the horizon like a black sea against the pale dunes.
He wanted to ask Gaara how many times he could still do that, but one glance at him was enough. Sweat glistened along his brow, his breathing steady but heavy.
His chakra signature had dipped—not by any great margin but enough to show that he can't keep repeating this trick indefinitely.
Hana clicked her tongue beside him, clearly not willing to let her disciple outshine her. She raised one hand, and the iron sand around her rippled, rising into the air in countless streams.
"Let's see how you like this," she murmured.
In the next instant, the air filled with metallic gleam.
Thousands of giant iron senbon formed above the battlefield, spinning in perfect synchronisation before raining down like a storm of steel. The sky itself seemed to hiss as the barrage tore through the undead army.
Hundreds of monsters were impaled as the ground became a forest of metal spears. But as dangerous as that technique had looked, its actual damage was pretty low.
Many of the undead monsters that were skewered still lived. And many of the iron sand spears had missed their target altogether.
The total death toll probably didn't even reach a hundred.
Against a shinobi army, that would've been an impressive feat. But against an army, two hundred thousand undead… that was barely a drop in the bucket.
Hana seemed to have realised that as well if her rising frustration was anything to go by.
He exhaled slowly. "This is going to be a long fight, isn't it?"
Temari tightened her grip on her fan, expression grim. The two S-class shinobi didn't look any different.
He could only hope the strike teams sent after the other two Ahramoths were doing better than they were.
Hana recalled her Iron spears from the ground. And then launched them again—and again—each wave descending upon the undead army like a rain of steel.
Her accuracy improved with every strike, the pattern of her attacks becoming cleaner and more controlled. But even so, the result remained disappointing.
The spears tore through dozens, maybe hundreds, but the army stretched endlessly, and the number of dead barely mattered. The black tide below simply filled the gaps as fast as she could create them.
Hana clicked her tongue, lowering her hand. "This isn't working," she muttered. "At this distance, we're wasting too much chakra for too little effect."
She glanced toward Gaara. "We might have to move closer. The nearer we are to our sand, the less chakra it takes to control it. If we keep fighting from this high up, we'll drain ourselves long before we make a dent in that army."
Gaara was silent for a moment, eyes following the movement below. Then, reluctantly, he nodded. "Agreed."
He could understand Gaara's reluctance. Gaara had about thrice the chakra reserves of Hana, and his reserves also refilled far faster than that of Hana's, all thanks to his status as a Jinchuriki.
Not being able to win a battle of attrition must've been a first for Gaara.
Hana then turned toward him and Temari, her gaze serious. "You two can fall back," she said, voice calm but firm. "This is going to get dangerous once we descend."
Temari's answer came without a pause. "Not happening. I'm not leaving my brother in the middle of that."
He himself gave a small, confident smile. "Same. I'm not leaving Temari in the middle of a battlefield. Besides, if things go bad, I'm confident I can get us out."
Hana raised an eyebrow at his confidence before she sighed, though there was a faint grin tugging at her lips. "You two are going to make me old before my time."
And then, as if the world wanted to punish their confidence, everything went wrong in the next instant.
The Ahramoth roared.
The air trembled. The sound wasn't as sharp as before—no sonic wave this time—but it was deeper, heavier, crawling through the ground like a quake.
All the same, the entire army responded to it near instantly.
The countless undead below began to move again—but not to attack.
They were converging.
Dozens, then hundreds, of clusters began running toward each other, bodies slamming together with wet, meaty sounds. The air filled with the sound of tearing flesh and grinding bones.
His stomach twisted as he realized what he was seeing. "They're fusing…"
Temari's expression hardened. "Again?"
He nodded grimly, remembering the Amalgamations they'd fought just yesterday—those towering horrors made from dozens of corpses welded into one.
But this… this was on a scale he hadn't imagined possible.
By the time the process ended, the valley had transformed.
The two hundred thousand strong army was gone—replaced by two hundred giant abominations, each one a mountain of flesh, bone, and exposed muscle. They stood like titans, some on four legs, others on twisted humanoid limbs, their bodies pulsing with stolen chakra.
The earth groaned under their combined weight.
They were not the size of a tailed beast, but large enough that calling them mini bijuu wouldn't be wrong.
And then, one of them moved.
It tilted its grotesque head back, the gaping maw stretching wider and wider—so wide it could have swallowed an entire herd of elephants.
The air pressure shifted, as it started to suck the air around it.
"Move!" Temari shouted.
A split second later, the creature released a massive Wind Blast, strong enough to shred the clouds above and flatten everything in its path.
Hana reacted instantly, slamming her palms together. Her iron sand surged forward, forming a dense black dome around their team. The wind slammed into it with the force of a hurricane, sending shockwaves through the barrier.
He braced himself, chakra flaring as he steadied Temari, who had almost been thrown off the sand cloud.
For a brief moment, everything was drowned out by the roar of wind and the grinding of sand and metal.
When the blast finally stopped, Hana was panting, sweat glistening on her forehead. The iron sand shield had cracks running through it.
And then—the other Amalgamations began to move.
Dozens of them turned their giant grotesque faces toward the sky, mouths opening wide as chakra began to gather within.
His heart dropped. "They can use ninjutsu now?"
"Apparently so," Hana said grimly, reforming her barrier, as the air filled with the glow of hundreds of gathering jutsu—Fire, Wind, Lightning—all charging at once. "Fuck me." She cursed.
"Later." He replied.
And then, the world exploded into light.
He held on tight to the sand cloud as Gaara flew through the chaos, the air around them filled with explosions and debris.
The battlefield below was unrecognizable—mountains flattened, valleys filled with churning water, and the sky itself dimmed by smoke and ash.
The Amalgamations were firing jutsu endlessly, the ground erupting under every blast. Fire, wind, and lightning streaked across the landscape like a storm of destruction.
Gaara's sand twisted and wove through the air, dodging every attack with inhuman precision. But even then, the shockwaves were strong enough to rattle his bones.
The battle had turned against them the moment the Ahramoth had roared its command and turned its entire army into Amalgamations.
Now, there was no room left for counterattacks or grand techniques. The only thing they could do was dodge and pray they survive this situation.
"Hang on!" Gaara's voice was tight, focused. Another blast of lightning tore past them, so close that the air crackled and burned his skin.
Then, just when he thought they'd be overwhelmed, Hana acted.
She slammed her palms together. "Iron Sand Clone Technique!"
Black sand burst outward, forming perfect replicas of their team. In an instant, dozens of clones appeared in the air, each taking off in a different direction.
The Amalgamations reacted immediately, turning their attention to the moving decoys. Some still maintained their focus on their team, but the pressure had lifted immensely.
It worked.
"Now!" Hana shouted.
Gaara didn't need to be told twice. He shot upward, then banked sharply to the side, speeding through a gap in the battlefield.
They didn't stop until the battlefield was a dark smudge on the horizon. Only then did Gaara let the sand dissolve, and they all tumbled to the ground in a heap.
He coughed as the dust settled, sprawled on his back, staring up at the red-tinted sky. His arms still shook from holding on so tightly.
Hana, sitting cross-legged nearby, let out a laugh—loud, sharp, and filled with disbelief. "Hah! We actually made it out alive. I thought that was it for us!"
He let out a shaky breath, a bitter grin tugging at his lips. "Honestly… I thought the same."
For the first time, he admitted it to himself—he was scared. The sheer scale of that battle had been beyond anything he'd faced.
The army of Amalgamations had been scary.
Maybe, maybe he could've taken one of them in a 1vs1 fight. Maybe even two of them. But there had been over 200 of them in that battlefield. Each as strong as an Elite Jounin, if not even stronger.
Frankly, they were lucky to come out of that battle with all their limbs intact.
Maybe he shouldn't have been so confident in his survival after all.
Hana's laughter faded, replaced by a thoughtful silence. She turned toward them. "We need to decide on our next move."
"Next move? We just barely escaped with our lives." He protested. "Can't we simply wait for the others to return. Then, we'll have 8 S-class shinobi, and over a dozen Elite Jounins. That should even out the battlefield, no?"
Hana shook her head. "It's not that simple kid. Despite how that battle had gone, me and Gaara are the best bet Suna has in dealing with that army."
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"Chiyo and her brother are puppeteers and poison expert. Neither of that will be of great use against those giant mountains of flesh. Pakura could be more useful. But her scorch release attacks lack range. And a single hit is all it'll take to kill her. Shoji, with his wind release would be of more use but who knows how much chakra he would've left by the time he arrives in this battlefield."
"What about those two Akatsuki mercenaries?" Temari asked.
Hana scoffed at those words. "Juzo Biwa is a swordsman first and foremost, and that's not of much use against those giants. As for Roshi, he could be of more use. But both of them are traitors to their village, and mercenaries. That's two solid reason not to place your faith in them. They might help when the battle is easy, but I wouldn't be surprised if they turn tail and run as soon as the battle goes south."
"So when then? We just barely escaped with our lives back there." Temari pointed out. "You can't seriously mean that you want to place us into that situation once again, right? That would only result in our deaths!"
Hana was silent for a moment before she sighed. "You're right kid. But at the same time, we can't do nothing. We do not know if the other two strike forces are succeeding in their task, or if they're in as bad of a situation as us." She said. "If they're delayed for too long, then the Ahramoth will reach the Land of Wind. There… it'll start attacking villages and towns, and start raising another army for itself. I'm sure you realise that we can't let that happen."
"What do we do then?" Gaara suddenly spoke up, looking at his Sensei intently.
Hana hesitated for a moment before she clenched her fists and spoke up. "We need to take out the Ahramoth. Without it, its army will either die on its own, or lose any cohesion it has, letting us take them out one by one."
"How?" Gaara asked. "That Ahramoth is in the middle of its army."
"It is. Normally, that is. But during the time when those giant fuckers were attacking it, it was momentarily left unguarded." Hana said. "We can use that to our advantage."
"How?" Gaara asked. Listening more intently now.
"You'll create sand clones, and use them as distraction for the army. And while those giants are distracted, I'll come from behind and take out the Ahramoth itself."
"You make that sound too easy." He spoke up with a sigh. "Makes me feel that something is going to go spectacularly wrong."
"Plus, Chiyo-sama especially warned us against facing those Ahramoths head on." Temari reminded them. "There must be a good reason for that warning."
"Perhaps kid. Perhaps. But we're out of options here." Hana said with a tired grin. "The longer we wait, the worse our situation will become. Especially if that monster reaches our country."
He and Temari exchanged glances for a moment before Temari spoke up. "I'll go with Gaara."
"I'll go with Hana."
Hana blinked at his words and then pretended to blush. "Oh. I didn't know I've gained an admirer."
He rolled his eyes at her antics. "If the battle goes south, then I'll do my best to rescue you."
Hana grinned at his words and then leaned forward, groping her breasts. "Oh, so you're saying that you aren't interested?"
"Sensei." Gaara spoke up seriously and Hana turned to mock glare at her disciple.
"You're no fun my chubby little disciple." Hana grumbled. "No wonder no one in the village dares to get close to me. It's because they're all scared of you!"
"Sensei." Gaara said, more harshly this time, and Hana finally raised her hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay. I'll be serious now." Hana said. "Come then. Let's discuss our tactics."
—————
The world outside was chaos, but down here deep underground, it was quiet.
He sat inside a iron sand capsule with Hana, the walls smooth and tightly packed. The faint rumble of over two hundred Amalgamations vibrated through the ground, reaching them even this deep underground.
They were moving fast through the underground, the ground turning into sand under Hana's control as they moved forward. He kept his eyes closed, focusing his senses outward.
Through his Kagura's Mind Eye, he could sense the shifting currents of chakra above—the distant clash of Gaara's sand, the wind pressure from Temari's fan, the scattered pulses of the Amalgamations' massive bodies lumbering across the field.
"Left," he said quietly. "There's a cluster of smaller undead up above. We'll be spotted if we surface here."
Hana nodded, her expression calm but sharp. The capsule veered slightly, gliding through the sand like a submarine through water.
It was cramped inside. The walls pressed close enough that their shoulders brushed every time the capsule turned. He could feel the warmth of her chakra pulsing faintly through the sand—steady, but somewhat afraid of the battle ahead of them.
After a few minutes, she broke the silence. "So…" she began casually, "there a girl in your life, kid?"
He blinked, thrown off by the sudden question. "Uh… yeah. Why do you ask?"
Hana let out a soft hum, a half-smile tugging at her lips. "Pity. I was thinking we could… enjoy ourselves a little before the battle. You know, in case it's our last." She grinned, voice teasing. "But I'm not a homewrecker. So it seems we'll have to go into this battle dry."
He stared at her for a moment, then sighed. "You have a really odd sense of timing, you know that?"
"War makes you honest," she replied, shrugging lightly. "You stop pretending you've got all the time in the world."
The capsule continued to glide forward. The silence that followed wasn't quite comfortable—but it wasn't hostile either. Just heavy.
He shifted slightly, realising just how close they were sitting. Not only that, but sometime during the rush, their position had shifted, and her butt cheeks were now rubbing against his crotch.
That led to the obvious happening.
Hana's eyes flicked down. Then back up. A slow, amused smile curved her lips. "Oh?" she said, voice soft but dangerous. "Is that a kunai in your pocket, kid? Or are you just happy to see me?"
He sighed, too tired to deny it. "Natural reaction," he muttered. "Happens when you're pressed against a beautiful woman."
Her low and warm laughter filled the capsule. "Smooth, kid. Very smooth."
Before she could tease him further, his senses spiked. The images in his mind shifted rapidly—chakra flaring above ground.
He straightened, expression sharp. "Gaara just created several dozen clones."
"Already?" Hana asked, instantly serious again.
"Yeah," he said. "They're spreading out, drawing the Amalgamations toward them. The giants are turning to attack the clones." He focused harder, eyes narrowing. "The Ahramoth's center is weaker now. Only a few— oh…"
"Oh what?" Hana asked him in worry.
"Gaara just released the Ichibi. Most of the giant are converging upon it. Only two are left behind to guard the Ahramoth."
Hana's grin returned, but this time it wasn't playful—it was fierce. "I can handle two.."
He shook his head. "No. I'll deal with them. You focus on the Ahramoth. It's our best shot."
For a moment, she was silent. Then, softly, she asked, "You really think you can hold them off?"
He met her eyes. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."
A quiet pause. Then she gave a small, genuine smile. "Alright. I'll place my trust in you, then."
He nodded once. "I'll guide you to our destination, and tell you when we're ready to move."
"Gotcha." She replied.
They waited in silence after that. The capsule glided slower now, approaching their destination. The muffled sounds of battle grew louder—the low roars, the shifting of earth, the distant blasts of sand and iron.
He watched it all through Kagura's Mind Eye, counting every movement, every flicker of chakra.
Finally, he exhaled and gave her a nod, "Now."
Hana moved her hands in a swift seal, and the sand capsule surged upward, breaking through the surface.
Light and chaos rushed in all at once.
They emerged at the back of the battlefield. Right in front of the Ahramoth and the two Amalgamations serving as its guards. And, he moved.
The air around him exploded as he lunged forward—chakra surging into his blade until it screamed with pressure.
"Wind Blade!"
The slash sailed through the air, invisible yet sharp enough to cut anything in its path. The nearest Amalgamation didn't even react in time; its neck separated cleanly from its shoulders, the massive head crashing into the sand below.
For a moment, it looked like victory.
Then the monster twitched.
The stump pulsed—and from it, another head began to grow, sprouting from layers of flesh and bone, knitting together with a sound like tearing fabric.
He clicked his tongue. Of course it wouldn't be that easy.
Still, he wasn't worried. If his Wind Blade could cut through them, then he was going to win. There was no question about that.
For a Genins, a D-class Ninjutsu like the Wind Blade could be used perhaps a dozen times before he started running low on chakra.
A chunin could probably use the technique over a hundred times before running low on chakra. And for a Jounin, that number would be over a thousand.
Meaning that even at full strength, a Jounin could roughly train with the technique a thousand times a day.
With his Passive Growth, he didn't have that problem. He didn't have to use the Jutsu himself. He didn't have to use his own chakra. Yet, he would continue improving as if he was practicing it intensely every single second of the day.
At first, he had to make a few hand seals to use the jutsu. But soon, his Passive Growth reduced that to one hand seal. At that point in time, he was able to use the Jutsu every single second.
That's 86,400 times he practice the Jutsu in a day. 86 times more than what a Jounin.
And the Limitless growth Perk ensured that unlike others, his growth speed would not plateau or slow down.
So… over the past few months, his Wind Blade continued to improve. The chakra required to cast it growing lesser and lesser. The time required to cast it lowering similarly, till he was able to cast multiple wind blades at once. It's lethality also improved at the same pace.
Now… he was able to cast hundred such Wind blades in an instant. All lethal enough to tear through multiple boulders without much difficulty.
All this meant… was that these monster were in for a very bad time.
He leapt, chakra flaring, and a storm of slicing air filled the sky. Each one struck with surgical precision, carving through the regenerating flesh before it could harden.
"Wind Blade: Thousand slash!"
The first Amalgamation let out a roar that sounded half-human, half-animal, before collapsing into chunks.
But he didn't get time to breathe.
The second Amalgamation opened its mouth wide, and then released the largest Fireball he'd ever seen in his entire life.
He took out his sword, filled it with his Wind Release chakra and slashed through the middle of the Fireball and then moved forward through the gap, rushing toward the second Amalgamation before it could get the time to cast more Jutsu at him.
The Amalgamation noticed this, and its massive arm came crashing down upon him like a falling building.
He spun, channeling chakra through his entire body, and a Wind Blade extended from his sword in a crescent arc.
The limb fell away, severed cleanly at the joint. Black ichor sprayed across the sand.
The monster bellowed and swung its other arm. He ducked under it, sliding forward and unleashing another barrage—dozens of blades that sliced through its torso like a hurricane of knives.
It staggered, injured but still alive, still regenerating. He pressed the attack, faster and faster, until he was a blur of motion.
When the storm finally ended, there wasn't enough of the creature left to regenerate. The sand was littered with chunks of twitching flesh, each dissolving into black dust.
He stood there for a moment, chest heaving, before turning toward the Ahramoth.
And his heart froze.
Hana was losing. Badly.
The Ahramoth's tentacle hit her square in the chest, the impact cracking the ground beneath her as she smashed into a pile of rubble. Her Iron Sand barrier shattered, scattering into a dark cloud before falling lifelessly to the ground.
"HANA!" he roared.
She didn't move.
He swung his sword, launching a crescent wave at the Ahramoth, and then watched in shock as the wind blade that was sharp enough to cut giant boulders… got absorbed into the monster's body.
The monster turned to look in his direction and he released hundreds, thousand more attacks, but they all similarly got absorbed.
Did Ninjutsu not work on it? Or was something else at play.
The Ahramoth, now deciding that he wasn't dangerous enough to threaten it, turned its attention back to the fallen form of Hana.
His heart slammed in his chest. He could feel the helplessness creeping in as the monster begun to move toward Hana.
He was suddenly reminded of Kazuki and when he was taken away to deal with the broken B-class gate. How he'd been completely helpless back then due to his lack of strength.
His eyes narrowed in resolve.
'No. I'll not lose anyone else. Not when I can still move.' He thought. 'If Ninjutsu won't do, then I'll just have to try something else.'
He clenched his fists and shut out everything else—the sound, the pain, the fear. All he focused on was the storm of chakra inside him. The power he held within himself. Sealed within the gates of his body.
And then, one by one, he tore them open.
First Gate—Open!
His body trembled as power exploded through his veins.
Second Gate—Open!
Blood rushed to his limbs, his muscles screaming.
Third—Fourth—Fifth—Sixth—Open!
The ground cracked beneath his feet. Air whipped violently around him, forming a shockwave that pushed back even the sand in a perfect circle.
(Something like this)
His chakra went wild. His control over it was completely gone. The calm, precise Wind Blades he had mastered became impossible to use. His chakra refused to condense or take form.
But he didn't need them anymore.
He would end this with his fists.
The Ahramoth noticed him then. Dozens of eyes turned in his direction. Tentacles surged toward him like spears.
He moved.
The world blurred.
He vanished from sight and reappeared above the nearest tentacle, his leg glowing a furious green as he brought it down like a hammer.
BOOM!
The tentacle exploded into pulp, the shockwave flattening everything within a hundred meters. The Ahramoth roared, reeling back, but he didn't stop.
He landed, crouched low, and then shot forward again—ever faster, than before. His fists slammed into its hide like cannon fire. Each punch cracked bone, burst veins, and tore huge chunks out of its giant body.
Another tentacle came from the side. He twisted and smashed it with a backhand that sent chunks of flesh flying. Then another came, and he shattered it too.
His body burned, his muscles tore, but he ignored it. The power of the gates flooded him with impossible energy. His blood boiled and his heartbeat thundered like drums of war.
The Ahramoth swung again, this time with three tentacles at once. He ducked under the first, kicked through the second, and jumped onto the third—running up along its length like it was solid ground.
He reached its massive chest where he had once sensed the dark core pulsing beneath translucent flesh, thanks to Kagura's mind eye.
In his current state, he was unable to use that ability as well, but knowing its rough location was enough.
He knew where its weak point was.
He reached forward to punch it, only for a giant tentacle to come between him and his target. It lost the tentacle, but he lost his momentum and was thrown backward.
He got up and rushed ahead time and time again, but the Ahramoth seemed to have realised the danger it was in and started to move away from him as quickly as it could.
It let out a roar, and the two hundred Amalgamations that had been attacked the giant form of Shukaku paused at once before they started rushing toward the Ahramoth in order to protect it.
His heart sank at the sight. He won't be able to destroy all of Ahramoth's tentacles before the Amalgamations reached them.
As if realising the precariousness of the situation, behind him, Hana stirred. Blood ran down her chin, her body trembling from exhaustion, but she still moved her hands into a seal.
"Iron Sand: Binding Coffin!" she shouted.
The last of her chakra flared to life. Iron sand surged from the ground, wrapping around the Ahramoth's tentacles, locking it in place. It thrashed and howled, tearing at the bindings, but she held firm, even as blood poured from her nose and mouth.
"Do it!" she screamed. "Now, kid!"
He didn't hesitate.
He jumped high, his chakra flaring uncontrollably, his body glowing green with power. The Ahramoth turned its hateful gaze toward him, all its mouths screaming as one.
He clenched his right fist, feeling his bones creak from the pressure. The air distorted around it, spiralling inward until it seemed to vanish completely.
He could feel the raw strength tearing him apart from the inside.
"This…" he said through gritted teeth, his voice low but steady, "is your end."
He pulled back his arm—his chakra expanding into a crimson cyclone.
"Serious… Serious Punch!"
He struck.
The air imploded.
A wall of force erupted outward, flattening everything in a straight line. The shockwave split the battlefield apart, blasting through the Ahramoth's chest and out the other side. The black core shattered instantly, bursting into shards of crimson light.
For one heartbeat, the world went silent.
Then the Ahramoth let out a final, ear-splitting scream before its massive body began to collapse in on itself. Flesh melted into sludge, bones turned to dust, and its form disintegrated into black mist.
The ground trembled one last time—and then, stillness.
Behind it, all the Amalgamations that had been rushing over crumbled into a thousand different corpses and fell to the ground.
His System blinked with hundreds of notifications but he was too exhausted to give them any attention.
He dropped to his knees, his body smoking from the strain, every muscle twitching in agony.
He turned toward Hana, who was lying in the sand, smiling faintly despite her injuries.
"You did it, kid…" she whispered. "You actually did it."
He tried to speak, but no words came out. He just gave a tired, crooked grin before collapsing to the ground. Before everything went dark.