Chapter 50 — Crush Them and Seize Victory
Hold your breath.
In the deathly silence where even ten thousand horses seemed muted,
a standard-bearer leapt forth from among the Cloud shinobi!
In that instant, every gaze converged on the warrior of the Yotsuki bloodline.
Look—his fists were like iron hammers.
Look—his powerful frame seemed carved by axe and chisel.
Look—he was the pride born of the Raikage's lineage, the very pillar of Kumogakure!
"Go!" someone roared.
"The honor of the Cloud Village rests upon you!"
The shout rang out as the man's punch tore through the air, wind screaming in its wake.
He smashed through the Sound shinobi's resistance, crossed the trench between life and death,
and stood at last before those despicable, underhanded Sound ninjas who relied only on filthy tricks.
Hope flared once more in the eyes of the Cloud forces.
This—this was one of the beliefs that had carried them through the carnage.
From the depths of their bones, Cloud shinobi despised the Sound.
A fair fight, blade against blade—
they believed one Cloud shinobi could face ten Sound!
"Heh. You shameless Sound dogs—care to die one more time?"
The Yotsuki shinobi thought the same.
Having overcome every obstacle to reach his enemies, he was brimming with confidence.
What followed, he believed, would be nothing less than a one-sided slaughter.
---
"Lightning Release: Dragon Tornado!"
He spun his body, aiming to annihilate as many Sound shinobi as possible in a single strike—
and to reclaim Cloud Village's dignity with lightning.
Once again, Kumogakure's proud Lightning Release surged forth, wielded by a son of the Yotsuki clan.
But this time, the technique was different.
The original Dragon Tornado manifested as a colossal lightning-wreathed twister,
a thunderous dragon spiraling across the battlefield—
grand in scale, devastating in power, and broad in reach.
What this man unleashed instead
was compression.
He condensed the massive Lightning Dragon Tornado into his fist.
By shrinking its volume, he multiplied its destructive force.
The moment his punch flew,
a dragon's roar tore through the battlefield, sharp enough to pierce eardrums.
Even before the blow landed,
the overwhelming pressure and slicing wind sent Sound shinobi reeling backward.
Stones on the ground were pulverized instantly,
then swept up and ground to dust as the roaring vortex plowed forward, erasing everything in its path.
---
"It's over!"
Cloud shinobi clenched their fists, eyes shining.
This single strike alone was enough to justify their entire struggle.
---
Clang.
At the critical moment, a flash of cold steel cut through the battlefield.
A blade's gleam—so sharp it seemed capable of cleaving moonlight itself—
halted the Lightning Dragon Tornado without the slightest hesitation.
Deprived of its momentum, the once-terrifying technique scattered apart,
transforming into flickering sparks—
like fireflies dancing over summer grass.
Dreamlike.
Illusory.
And only then did the belated sound reach both armies' ears.
Soft.
Clear.
Unmistakable.
---
"Dance of the Clematis."
Beneath deep crimson eye markings, a handsome profile was revealed—
his expression flat, his gaze distant and cold.
"Is that all?"
The question was spoken without heat or scorn,
only quiet disappointment.
Clad in chakra armor, without even drawing his bone blade, Kimimaro asked.
"How could that be possible…?"
Gritting his teeth, the Yotsuki clansman staggered back half a step.
His confidence—so absolute moments ago—had been shattered in an instant.
He realized immediately that retreating even half a step at this moment was disastrous.
Forcing himself forward two paces, he tried to reclaim the ground.
But momentum, once lost, could not be recovered.
"It's Captain Kimimaro!"
As the Cloud's morale was crushed by one man alone,
the Sound forces surged with renewed spirit.
The shinobi who often stood at Lord Oda Nobunaga's side—
the living weapon known as Kimimaro—had entered the battlefield.
Cheers worthy of a hero erupted again and again.
"Aren't you coming?"
Ignoring the jubilation behind him, Kimimaro seemed almost unaware of it.
Yet the light in his eyes grew brighter.
He spoke calmly to the Yotsuki shinobi staring at him in fear.
When the man failed to advance, Kimimaro's gaze slid past him—
toward somewhere much farther ahead.
Because that was where his true march began.
"Then I'll go."
Treating the Yotsuki shinobi as if he didn't exist,
Kimimaro merely tapped the ground with his toe.
There was no visible exertion.
And yet when he reappeared,
he was already past the Yotsuki clansman.
"Don't think you can pass me—don't you dare look down on me!"
Enraged beyond restraint, the Yotsuki shinobi exploded with full power.
Spinning around, he swung his fist at Kimimaro's back,
swearing this time he would crush that detestable brat's face.
---
"You're already dead."
Kimimaro did not turn.
He did not slow.
His footsteps were not delayed in the slightest by such an obstacle.
His voice did not even change in tone.
Instead, he extended both hands toward the Cloud forces ahead.
Ten fingers.
Ten bones pierced through flesh.
White, crystalline phalanges—pure as jade—
shot forward like bullets.
Infused with immense kinetic force and Kimimaro's chakra,
the bone projectiles roared forth like a divine Gatling gun that judged all equally.
---
"AAAAAAAH—!"
Cloud shinobi fell in waves.
No matter how they dodged,
no matter what defensive techniques they used—
They were pierced.
And as for the Yotsuki shinobi who had sworn to stop Kimimaro…
Only when he turned did he finally understand
why Kimimaro had said he was already dead.
His body moved.
But his head did not.
Thud.
His head rolled across the ground.
In its fading, glassy eyes was the sight of his comrades charging toward death alongside him.
"So… I was already dead…"
Such was a shinobi's constitution—or perhaps the lingering power of chakra—
that he could still marvel at the speed of Kimimaro's blade.
The last thing he saw
was Kimimaro raising his sword high and cleaving downward.
---
Then, countless high-spirited Sound shinobi surged forward,
leaping over the severed head,
charging past the towering figure of Kimimaro,
and crashing into the Cloud ranks.
"Long live Lord Oda Nobunaga!"
"Captain Kimimaro, unbeatable!"
"For the protection of the Land of Fields!"
Strike after strike, the Cloud shinobi were cut down.
Morale shattered.
Fear planted.
The Sound forces had seized psychological dominance at last,
and the battlefield collapsed into brutal close combat.
This was exactly what Nobunaga had wanted to see.
Only an army willing to bare its blade to the enemy
could ever become a truly elite force.
With chakra armor compensating for their weaker reserves and control,
and Snow Country's chakra regulation devices acting as support,
the Sound shinobi closed the gap decisively.
They did not seek dominance across the entire battlefield—
but under the direction of Jūgo,
who commanded from the airborne warship above,
they controlled everything that mattered.
With full awareness of battlefield movement,
Sound squads converged again and again,
creating local superiority—many against few.
Taijutsu specialists charged first, absorbing damage,
then seized the moment to slap chakra suppressors onto their enemies.
Suppress first.
Exterminate next.
The doctrines once devised by Fūka Dōtō were now executed to perfection.
And for enemies too hard to crack—
Jūgo would call down Kimimaro,
or unleash Sound's elite jōnin like iron hammers
to smash open even the toughest shell.