The Third Shinobi World War had never truly ended.
Just as the Kumogakure ninja still stood guard along the border between the Land of Lightning and the Land of Fire, they were rely waiting—waiting for a shift within Konoha. And where that shift would co from was a question worth pondering.
It was as if Danzō had sohow known in advance that sothing was about to happen.
The fires of war had not gone out, and missions outside the village had beco perilous.
When Hakken Yoru and his group halted their advance once again that night, it felt as though the killing was about to begin anew.
“No way… we just survived an assassination attempt!”
Staring at the masked, hostile ninja before him, Nao was completely shaken. He had never imagined that stepping outside the village this ti would bring such trouble. Given his status in the Land of Hot Water, there was no reason anyone would send ninja after him. As for other nations, he had little to no dealings with nobles of his standing. So why were there ninja here?
Jirō Kusanagi and Maru Keitai exchanged glances, finding only despair in each other’s eyes.
Pure despair.
If their earlier battle had held even a flicker of hope, now there was none. Judging by the masks, these opponents were clearly ANBU from so village. A quick glance around revealed twenty ninja encircling them completely.
Twenty against four—and they had to protect a burden. How could they possibly win this fight? They were barely a year out of the Academy—fresh genin.
This world was terrifying.
“Ken-san.”
Itachi’s expression hardened as he gripped his kunai tightly, glancing at the boy beside him. Without a doubt, in monts of crisis, Kensan was his pillar. Just as Ken-san had once told him—with him around, there was no need to panic.
“Their strength ranges between genin and chūnin, but the real threat hasn’t appeared yet.”
After surveying the area, Hakken took a deep breath, his tone steady and analytical. Having already experienced his first kill, the panic he once felt was gone. From the chaotic spiritual fluctuations radiating from these enemies, Hakken imdiately understood who they were beneath those masks.
White Zetsu.
The byproduct of the Infinite Tsukuyomi from a thousand years ago—weapons Kaguya had created to resist the Ōtsutsuki.
Obito had finally made his move.
The reason, Hakken didn’t know. Maybe it was simply because his na was Obito Uchiha. There was no need to understand the reason.
In the original story, Obito had attacked young Itachi without reason as well. He left behind only the excuse that he was helping him gain strength—insisting that hatred was the key to Uchiha evolution. He even had the audacity to speak in Madara’s na, claiming he had killed his own brother and taken his eyes for power.
A pitiful clown.
What could Obito—who never truly understood Madara—possibly comprehend? Madara had only ever shown him what he wanted him to see.
Though the real danger hadn’t yet erged, the imdiate threat still had to be dealt with.
Slowly, Hakken drew his Zanpakutō, chakra instantly coating the blade. As the pale blue energy sharpened to a razor’s edge, he beca one with the wind—silent, swift, and unseen.
“Rember the training from a few days ago?”
With a slight flick, the whistling sound from the Eight-Blade Zanpakutō made Itachi nod firmly.
“Understood!”
He uttered the two words, and facing the approaching enemy, Itachi’s hands began forming hand seals at lightning speed.
Snake – Goat – Monkey – Pig – Horse – Tiger.
“Fire Release! Great Fireball Technique!”
The blaze illuminated Itachi’s small face, while at the sa ti, the blade infused with wind-nature chakra slashed fiercely forward. The intense cutting and suction force completely reshaped Itachi’s Great Fireball.
The next instant, a formidable, flaming long sword descended in a sweeping strike!
Combination Ninjutsu.
Only two individuals with perfect synergy could execute such a technique together. Both chakra control and the timing of the strike had to align flawlessly—any deviation would end in failure.
Wind fed the flas, and since Hakken’s chakra nature transformation ranked among the most dominant in the shinobi world, the Great Fireball transford into a Great Fire Sword.
What kind of technique was this?
The two background genin standing behind them were utterly stunned. Even Obito, hiding nearby, couldn’t help but gape in disbelief.
Combination Ninjutsu could be used like this?!
BOOM!
The fire blade slamd into the ground, striking several enemies head-on before they could even react. The mont that burning edge sliced their flesh, sheer terror erupted within them.
Flas that could cut through flesh—and wounds that reignited with fire from within!
Its lethality was overwhelming.
The Great Fireball, an ordinary C-rank ninjutsu, had been elevated to unleash power rivaling an A-rank or even higher!
These two kids…
Behind the mask, the Sharingan narrowed slightly as Obito’s breath hitched.
No wonder… no wonder Kakashi said that seeing them always reminded him of the old Minato’s team. This level of coordination was beyond anything ordinary shinobi could hope to match.
The fire blade crashed down.
But the battle had only just begun.
When Hakken and Itachi charged toward the ninjas created from White Zetsu, the fight truly began in earnest. Just as Hakken had predicted, these enemies weren’t particularly strong. Under the sweep of his chakra blade and Itachi’s precise follow-up strikes, they all fell within monts.
Ken-san is so strong.
Surveying the bodies around them, Itachi’s small face carried a trace of pride as he recalled that blazing sword.
“Pretty capable.”
But just as Itachi was about to respond, a masked man suddenly appeared.
Frowning, Itachi instinctively stepped in front of Hakken, shielding him with his own body.
Ken-san had warned that the real threat was yet to co—and the man before them was likely that very threat.
“Hiding behind a mask, who are you?”
Indeed, a re noble from the Land of Hot Water could never have drawn so many ninja. That alone made the man’s identity deeply suspicious.
Who exactly was he?
Staring at Hakken and Itachi, the masked man tilted his head slightly, then spoke in a deep, ominous tone.
“My na.”
“Madara Uchiha!”
The air went still.
Then—
“Pfft!”
The mont he said it, the youth couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
See? Obito said he was Madara Uchiha.
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