Raiga Kurosuki trusted in his own resistance to illusions and the presence of his comrades, so he did not bother avoiding Uchiha Gen's Sharingan.
The 'Blood Mist' policy had left bonds between Kirigakure shinobi fragile, but that didn't mean they would watch their allies fall without lifting a hand.
Unlike Kushimaru Kuriarare and Jinpachi Munashi, who delighted in killing to the point they didn't care if allies were in the way, Fuguki Suikazan and Raiga weren't quite so deranged.
That was part of the reason Kushimaru and Jinpachi met their end at Might Duy's hands, not just bad luck or proximity, but because even their fellow Swordsmen despised them.
Of course, neither Fuguki Suikazan nor Raiga could be called 'good men,' but compared to those maniacs, they weren't completely rotten.
Though Gen's eyes still bore the form of the three-tomoe Sharingan, in truth they held the power of a Mangekyō. The difference was night and day.
In a blink, Raiga was caught by the Naraku Blade genjutsu, forced to confront the deepest terror in his heart.
The crackling thunder around his Lightning Blades died out, his confident sneer crumbling into raw fear as his very soul and lifespan began to tear free from his body.
But at the last instant, Fuguki Suikazan surged forward, flooding Raiga's chakra flow with his own. The sudden disruption shattered the illusion and dragged Raiga back.
The terror evaporated, his stolen essence snapping back into place.
"...Tch. What a monster of a genjutsu."
Raiga's chest heaved, sweat dripping from his brow. He had brushed against death.
"I saw it just now," Fuguki muttered, expression hard, grip tight on Samehada. "Your soul, no, something like a soul and a white light, both trying to leave you. Just like what happened to Kanda when he died."
His eyes narrowed. "This brat has some strange ability. Don't let your guard down."
Raiga swallowed, gripping the Thunder Blades until his knuckles whitened. "When Kanda died, he looked terrified too... Maybe that's the trigger. Fear. He rips out your soul when you're afraid."
His voice quivered despite himself. "I've never heard of the Uchiha having anything like this. Sharingan illusions, yes. But stealing souls...?"
"Perhaps some hidden clan technique," Fuguki said coldly. "Their bloodline runs deep. Strange secrets wouldn't surprise me."
Their words reached Gen's ears, and he chuckled inwardly.
As expected of elites from the Mist... They've already guessed one-piece of the Soul-Soul Fruit's power.
But it didn't matter. Knowing the trick was one thing. Escaping it was another. Fear could be drawn out in countless ways, forced or natural, and once it surfaced, so did their souls.
Gen bared his teeth in a sharp grin. "Oi, fatty. Green-hair. Done whispering?" His eyes gleamed. "Good. Now hurry up and die."
Orochimaru, locked in a vicious clash with six Mist elites, had already been pushed further away. Gen rolled his shoulders and let the arrogance pour out of him, no longer hiding it.
After keeping a low profile for so long, the rush of disdain was intoxicating.
Both Mist swordsmen stiffened. Even after reminding themselves not to be baited, fury boiled up inside them.
They were men of stature, feared across the shinobi world. To be reduced to 'fatty' and 'green-hair'? Unthinkable.
The Mist swordsmen slammed their blades into the ground.
Kirigakure Release: Hidden Mist!
White fog burst forth, mixing with the falling snow until sight itself was devoured. The mist spread heavy with chakra, suppressing even wind techniques that might otherwise scatter it.
Sharingan sight was dulled. Perception blurred.
The two swordsmen split off, using water clones to engage from the front while their real bodies crept closer under the veil of the Silent Killing Technique.
Among the Seven Swordsmen, few had mastered the art of silent killing. Its greatest practitioner had been Momochi Zabuza, wielder of the Executioner's Blade. But Raiga and Fuguki had training enough to be dangerous.
For a normal Uchiha, such mist would have been disastrous. But Gen had long since learned the Hiding in Ash and Dust, its heat countering the cold veil.
Sliding his Kusanagi back into its sheath, his eyes glinted as his hands blurred into seals.
Fire Release: Hiding in Ash and Dust!
He exhaled not flame, but a dry, blistering haze of heated ash. It spread unseen through the mist, forming a faint semicircular barrier.
His clones split from him. His true body sank beneath the ground.
Moments later, the water clones of Raiga and Fuguki touched the invisible wall of heat. They hissed into puddles instantly.
Both swordsmen froze.
"Our clones were destroyed."
"And for a moment, the silent killing's perception failed too."
"My technique's not perfect, but... you felt it, right?" Raiga whispered.
"Yes," Fuguki murmured grimly. "The brat set something up."
"Then we flank. I'll draw his attention with a water release. You circle from behind."
"Not bad," Fuguki said, then smirked. "But I have a better idea."
Raiga blinked. "...What idea?"
"We leave him."
Raiga nearly shouted in surprise, but Fuguki's hand clamped over his mouth.
"We slip past and strike at Orochimaru. He's the boy's master, isn't he? Kill him, and the brat will break. His morale shatters. Konoha's morale shatters. Our victory is sealed."
A cruel grin spread across his face. "And if Orochimaru dies, what can that brat do then?"
Raiga's eyes gleamed. "Heh... Not bad. Not bad at all."
"Then let's move."
The two slipped away, curving wide to skirt the ash barrier, creeping along the valley's edge.
At first, Gen tracked their chakra, thinking they meant to circle and strike him from behind. Exactly the trap he wanted them to fall into.
But then he noticed the shift their trajectory wasn't coming for him at all.
His expression hardened.
Old foxes...!
He burst from the ground, snarling. "Shuryu! Shizukamaru! With me... now!"
The board was set. Their schemes would be answered with his own.