The air above the Blade Gap was thick with smoke and chakra static. The Amamiya coalition garrison clashed head-on with the Kaguya advance force, and the forest below howled with fire and steel.
Boom.
The ground heaved as another mine went off—one of Raizen's little gifts buried earlier. Clay was vanishing fast from the pouches on his belt, each handful molded into birds and beasts before being flung toward the enemy.
When a Kaguya ninja's heel found one of those mines, the result was a burst of flame and blood that painted the rocks.
Raizen didn't even flinch. "Next."
More clay beasts darted from his palms, wings fluttering with a faint hiss of chakra. They dove into the enemy ranks and exploded, scattering bones and dust.
The Kaguya clan were born berserkers, their bodies hard as ivory and minds wired for violence—but detonating clay didn't care about pride. It only cared about impact.
A bird landed near one of them, eyes glowing.
The man barely had time to curse before it went off point-blank, vaporizing him into a red mist.
"What the hell is that jutsu?!" someone screamed.
"Get close! Don't let him use it again!"
Dozens of Kaguya surged forward, bone blades sprouting from their arms. They were fast, brutal, and absolutely suicidal.
Raizen's eyes narrowed. "Bad move."
He clapped his hands together. White chakra flared between his palms, brighter than lightning.
"Dust Release—Primary Separation Technique!"
The nearest attackers froze mid-charge as the air around them shimmered, their bodies turning grain by grain into nothing. The glow faded, leaving only dust swirling in the wind.
Even the Kaguya hesitated at that. They could shrug off sword slashes and fireballs, but this was different. Dust Release didn't leave corpses—it erased existence.
"What? Getting cold feet now?" Raizen sneered, breath steady despite the burn in his lungs. His pupils tightened into toad-like slits as Sage Mode surged through him. The earth cracked beneath his feet from the pressure.
He thrust his hands forward again, palms glowing like miniature suns. The energy hummed so violently his skin blistered.
"Sage Art—Dust Release: Primary Separation!"
A searing column of white engulfed the battlefield.
The scream never came.
Hundreds of Kaguya simply vanished, their stances frozen in time before being stripped apart at the molecular level.
When the light faded, silence ruled. A massive crater scarred the land where life once stood.
Every shinobi—Amamiya and Kaguya alike—stared, throats tight, hearts pounding. No one spoke.
Kaguya Takemoto, leading from the rear, felt his chest tighten. His plan had been simple—raid the Amamiya camp, cripple morale, retreat before dawn. But this? A single man had reduced his vanguard to ash.
"Retreat!" Takemoto barked. His voice cracked.
The Kaguya pulled back in grim silence, discipline barely holding against the tremor of fear. Raizen didn't pursue.
He lowered his hands, shoulders shaking from exhaustion. The white glow in his eyes dimmed, replaced by weary pragmatism.
"Let them go," he ordered, voice flat. "No point wrecking the camp over their pride."
The Amamiya coalition obeyed, weapons still drawn as the enemy disappeared into the forest's black edge.
Raizen exhaled, scanning the carnage. "Clean the field. Reinforce defenses. Double patrols—no more surprises."
The men jumped into motion. Scouts fanned out; medics began counting the fallen.
The Kaguya's ambush had failed, but it hadn't been painless—nearly fifty coalition shinobi were dead or dying. If Raizen hadn't reacted fast, the camp would've been a slaughterhouse.
He looked down at his clay-stained hands and muttered, "Get cocky for a minute, and the world reminds you who's boss."
The wind carried the smell of iron and burnt soil, whispering through the gorge like laughter from the dead.