Kakuzu couldn't remember the last time someone had pushed him this far; in fact, he didn't think he had felt like this since he fought Hashirama Senju himself.
Not that this woman was anywhere near that powerful, but few people could push him like this. Even now, he didn't know if he could easily kill her, not without losing a few hearts, and while her heart would no doubt be worth the cost, it was still unknown if he could kill her without damaging it.
Still, it was time he ended this before things got further out of hand.
As he molded his chakra, he turned his eyes to the side just slightly, mentally judging how far away the two Uzumaki cash cows had gone in the time of their fight.
His eyes snapped back to Kaguya just as the ground beneath her feet fractured, stone spiderwebbing outward under the sudden stress. Pale arcs of light crawled along her arms, sharp and erratic, leaping between her fingers like living things.
Lightning—
—but different.
Not the raw violence of standard Lightning Release. This was contained, refined, compressed into something that bent both water and electricity into a single, coherent force.
Kakuzu's eyes narrowed.
Storm Release.
That realization came fast.
Too fast.
"—So you really are hiding that much," he muttered.
She didn't answer; instead, she raised her hand.
And the sky screamed.
A lance of pale-blue energy tore forward, not as lightning, not as water, but as something in between—a roaring beam of charged vapor that ripped through the battlefield, shredding the ground it passed over into molten slag and ionized mist.
Kakuzu reacted instantly.
Not with one mask.
Not with two.
"Fire Style: Intelligent Hard Work."
Flames erupted forward—
"Wind Style: Pressure Damage."
The fire was compressed, accelerated, weaponized—
"Lightning Style: False Darkness."
A third nature slammed into the mix, lightning threading through the firestorm, stabilizing it, reinforcing it, pushing the technique beyond mere destruction and into something closer to annihilation.
Three elements.
Not his limit.
But enough.
The combined jutsu surged forward, a roaring mass of fire, wind, and lightning that tore apart the terrain as it advanced, trees erased before they could even burn.
Then it met her attack.
Storm Release didn't explode.
It cut.
The beam punched straight into the composite jutsu, electrical charge destabilizing lightning, superheated vapor diffusing fire, pressure gradients tearing the wind apart from the inside.
For a fraction of a second, the two techniques locked—
—and then Kakuzu's collapsed.
The storm surged through, ripping the heart out of his attack and detonating the remains sideways in a catastrophic discharge that flattened everything within range.
Kakuzu skidded back, boots carving trenches through fused earth as he anchored himself with threads.
Silence followed.
Then— Crack.
Residual lightning snapped through the air, crawling along broken stone and scorched ice alike.
Kakuzu stared.
Not in shock.
In assessment.
Three Kekkei Genkai.
Now Storm Release.
That wasn't coincidence.
That wasn't luck.
That was accumulation.
And worse—
She hadn't overextended.
Her chakra flow remained stable. Controlled. No signs of backlash. No instability.
She wasn't throwing everything she had.
She was showing him what she could do.
Kakuzu exhaled slowly.
This is dangerous.
Not because he couldn't kill her.
He could.
Eventually.
But the cost had just spiked—dramatically.
He would likely end up having to sacrifice most of his hearts and doubted he could fully recover hers to replace his losses.
More than that…
There was the matter of compensation. She had a fairly low bounty, low enough that he wouldn't have bothered if not for the higher price on the two Uzumaki she lived with.
But given what he had learned from fighting her… her bounty was far too low.
Storm Release alone would make Kumo desperate.
Paired with Ice, Lava, and Shikotsumyaku?
Kiri would lose their minds.
Iwa would pay quietly.
Konoha would pretend not to care.
And all of them would drive the price higher.
Killing her now would lock in a payout that hadn't finished growing.
That would be—
Wasteful.
Kakuzu felt something like satisfaction settle in his chest.
She's an investment.
One that was still appreciating.
The storm dissipated slowly, residual charge crawling along the ground in jagged lines before fading into nothing. Kakuzu stood amid the ruin, threads anchored deep, masks hovering at measured distances.
He studied her.
She hadn't advanced.
She hadn't pressed the advantage.
That alone was telling.
Not mercy—
calculation.
Kakuzu straightened fully, hands lowering a fraction, posture shifting from combat-ready to guarded neutrality. Not surrender. Never that.
Negotiation.
"Enough," he said calmly, voice carrying across the broken terrain.
He did not shout. He did not threaten.
He stated it like a conclusion already reached.
"You're strong," he continued. "Strong enough that killing you here would cost me more than I'd gain."
A pause.
"And you know that fighting me to the end wouldn't be free either."
His eyes flicked briefly to the devastation around them—frozen earth, vitrified stone, scorched remains of what had once been forest.
"This battle has already crossed the point where either of us profits."
He shifted his stance slightly, just enough to show that while he was still dangerous, he wasn't escalating further.
"I'm not interested in dying for pride," Kakuzu said. "And you don't strike me as someone who can't take a step back, not when you have those two depending on you."
He tilted his head, watching her reaction closely.
"Walk away," he offered. "So will I."
There was no pleading in his tone.
No arrogance.
Just cold arithmetic.
Internally, Kakuzu kept calculating.
If she refused—
He would escalate.
If she accepted—
He would live, richer in knowledge than money.
Either outcome was survivable.
But the best outcome?
Time.
Time for rumors to spread.
Time for villages to notice.
Time for the price on this Kaguya-hime to climb to where it truly belonged.
He waited.
-----
I let the lightning fade from my hands, the last threads of charged mist dissolving into the ruined air. My stance loosened—not fully, never fully—but enough to signal that I wasn't advancing.
Not because I couldn't.
Because there was no reason to.
"You're right," I said calmly, breaking the silence at last. "This has already gone on long enough."
Kakuzu didn't relax.
Good.
"I didn't come here looking for you," I continued, keeping my voice even, my expression unreadable. "And I have no interest in chasing bounties or proving points."
I glanced briefly at the devastation around us—the frozen earth, the scorched trees, the hardened stone—then back to him.
"Fighting you further would be a waste of time," I said. "And chakra."
That was true.
Just not for the reason he thought.
Kakuzu studied me in silence, eyes sharp, searching for cracks in my words, for hesitation, for deception. He found none. I gave him nothing.
Finally, he inclined his head a fraction.
"Smart," he said. Not praise. Assessment.
His masks drifted closer, threads retracting in controlled motions as he stepped back once, then again, never turning his back on me. Not until the distance was enough that either of us could disengage without inviting a fatal mistake.
"This isn't over," he added, already preparing to leave.
"No," I agreed. "It isn't."
Our eyes met one last time.
Then he vanished—threads snapping back into the shadows as he withdrew, moving with the same measured precision he had fought with.
Only once his presence was gone did I allow myself to breathe out slowly.
I kept my expression neutral, my posture steady, until I was certain he wouldn't look back.
Then— I smiled.
Just a little.
After all, this was the first time I had gone out to this extent, testing Shikotsumyaku against someone who didn't fold instantly, even having a chance to put a few of the other Kekkei Genkai to use.
It had taken a lot of effort to master the melding of chakra natures together until it produced the desired results, and only thanks to the Shadow Clone Jutsu had I been able to get this many done in the few years since I left Konoha.
Truly, Tobirama Senju deserved a reward for inventing that one.
It didn't just let me speed up the learning process; it also removed most of the risks by having my clones handle the risky parts.
But despite learning those Kekkei Genkai, I hadn't been able to test them out, which I needed to do. I wouldn't be like the original Kaguya, having the power to win easily, yet not the skill to use it.
Honestly, one of the most tempting things about joining the Akatsuki is the opportunity to fight the others.
Each one of them is the very best of the best, and by training against them, I would be better able to fight against the rest of the Ōtsutsuki clan in the future.
But not yet.
It wasn't time to join just yet.
With a shake of my head, I went toward Kanna and Karin; both of them were safe, but I could see the worry on their faces even from here.
The battle had drawn plenty of attention due to how loud it had been; indeed, it was time to disappear from here before things got more complicated.