Chapter 189: Ch-189 Second awakening.
Inoiki’s body continued to radiate with a brilliant sky-blue light, the aura pulsating gently, wrapping him in a cocoon of ethereal energy.
Inoiki’s body continued to radiate with a brilliant sky-blue light, the aura pulsating gently, wrapping him in a cocoon of ethereal energy. The air around him shimred with power. Slowly, impossibly, the mangled ss of his crushed arm began to shift. Bones twisted and reford. Torn flesh knitted back together. In a matter of seconds, his limb was whole again—healed by the overwhelming surge of psychic and elental force coursing through him.
But the Asura Path did not intend to sit idle and watch this transformation.
Its upper cranium split open, revealing a deadly laser cannon embedded inside. With chanical precision, the cannon charged and fired—a focused beam of energy ripping through the air, aid directly at Inoiki’s heart.
Just as the beam was about to strike, Inoiki’s eyes snapped open.
They glowed with the sa sky-blue intensity as his aura, shining like star. He moved his hand with an almost casual grace—and the laser beam was instantly deflected, swatted aside by a ripple of invisible force. The beam veered away harmlessly, slicing into a nearby boulder and detonating it in a burst of dust and stone.
Inoiki then turned his gaze toward the Deva Path and the Asura Path.
His expression was unreadable—neither hatred nor rcy, only the cold certainty of one who has glimpsed death and returned. His eyes regarded them not as opponents, but as remnants—hollow puppets animated by the will of another. And in truth, that’s what they were. Both bodies were corpses—reanimated shells moving only under Nagato’s remote control.
In the blink of an eye, Inoiki vanished.
He twisted the very fabric of space around him, folding distance like parchnt. One instant he was in front of them—and the next, he reappeared behind the Asura Path, floating effortlessly midair. Neither body had seen where he’d gone.
His hand was already on the back of the Asura Path’s head.
With a slight motion of his fingers, gravity itself buckled.
Manipulating the gravitational field through psychokinesis, he crushed the Asura Path’s body in a slow, deliberate implosion. The sound of tal compressing and joints snapping filled the air as the puppet’s fra collapsed inward. Its reinforced body cracked, then folded, and within monts the entire construct exploded into a heap of shattered components. Limbs, gears, and wires clattered to the ground in a rain of broken tal.
Inoiki remained floating, calm and silent. His legs had yet to fully heal—he couldn’t stand, but he didn’t need to.
He turned now toward the Deva Path, who stood still among the wreckage, calculating. Inoiki’s voice rang out, calm but edged with fire.
"Killing you right now would be easy," he said. "You’ve seen what I can do in this state. But the truth is—I’m nearly out of chakra. If I push myself any further... I won’t be able to leave this place."
He narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze piercing through the facade of the Deva Path. He wasn’t just speaking to the puppet. He was speaking to the man behind it.
"And let’s not forget... you have soone on your side who can travel through space. If that masked Tobi arrives here—while I’m injured like this—I’ll be in real trouble. I’ll be honest. I can’t fight soone like him right now. Not while I’m like this."
His words hung heavy in the air. Not a boast. A truth.
"So," he said, his voice colder now, "we’ll et again. And every injury you gave
today... every ounce of pain—I’ll return it."
As he finished speaking, he slowly turned his head—looking toward the distant mountains, where Nagato and Konan remained hidden from view. There was no mistaking the intent in his expression.
Nagato, through the link, felt it.
For a brief mont, he swore Inoiki was looking directly at him—miles away, through terrain and space and dust and sky—eye to eye.
He didn’t flinch.
Then, without a word of warning, Inoiki vanished. The space where he hovered twisted violently, light bending and warping around the point where he had been. A split-second later, there was nothing left but faint ripples in the air—space-ti residue swirling in silence.
Inoiki had teleported away.
Nagato suddenly doubled over, another harsh cough wracking his frail body. More blood splattered onto the ground, staining his pale lips and fingers. His breathing grew uneven, his expression tight with strain.
Konan was at his side in an instant, placing a gentle hand on his back, steadying him.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice low but urgent. "What happened?"
Nagato took a long, slow breath, trying to calm the tremors running through his limbs. After a few monts, he managed to regain so composure and muttered, "Inoiki... escaped."
His voice was heavy with frustration—and a trace of sothing else. Dread.
A grim expression settled on his face as he continued, more to himself than to her. "He’s grown even stronger."
His mind replayed the last monts of the battle. The space around Inoiki twisting unnaturally. The effortless teleportation. And above all, the way he crushed the Asura Path—without seals, without chakra signatures in the conventional sense—using only psychokinetic control over gravity itself.
Nagato knew that technique well. He could manipulate gravity through the Rinnegan, a divine ability that marked him as the wielder of godlike power. And yet Inoiki had done sothing strikingly similar... through sheer ntal force. Psychokinesis.
That fact disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.
"Inoiki’s control over gravity... it was real," he murmured. "Not chakra-based. Purely ntal. And he bent space. He touched a level that most shinobi couldn’t even perceive, let alone reach..."
Konan watched him quietly, her concern deepening.
Nagato’s voice sharpened with resolve. "We need to leave. Before Iwa’s forces arrive and complicate things further."
Konan gave a curt nod, understanding the risk. They didn’t need another confrontation—especially not in Nagato’s current state. Together, they began preparing to withdraw from the battlefield.
----
Far away, nestled among dense trees on the green slopes of a remote mountain, a pulse of distorted space ruptured the air—and Inoiki appeared, collapsing onto the grassy earth with a sharp groan of pain.
His breathing was ragged. Every inch of his body scread in protest. The teleportation had drained the last of his reserves.
He clenched his jaw and tried to keep his consciousness steady as he thought to himself:
Thankfully, I broke through... My ntal power, which had been stuck at the sa limit for so long, finally surged past that wall. I could feel space itself... bend. Gravity... beco mine to command. And I was able to use my mind to nd my own broken body.
A bitter smile flickered across his face, quickly replaced by a grimace.
But healing myself... it cost
nearly everything. My chakra’s nearly depleted. I barely had enough to get out of that battlefield—out of the Land of Earth entirely.
He winced, trying to shift his position but found he lacked the strength. His body felt like a shell on the verge of collapse.
I can’t go back to the Land of Earth now. Not like this. Who knows what the Tsuchikage would do if he finds out I’m injured? Just because I saved his granddaughter once... doesn’t an I can trust him. He may very well take this opportunity to eliminate .
As he lay there, the world around him began to spin.
"Wait..." he whispered, trying to push himself up, but the darkness surged too fast.
And then, everything faded.
He fell unconscious, his body motionless on the forest floor. What happened next was beyond his control.
For now... his fate would be decided by the hands of chance.
----
Hours passed.
Back at the ruined battlefield where Inoiki had clashed with the Deva Path, a squad of Iwa shinobi arrived on the scene. Among them were Kurotsuchi and her father, Kitsuchi—both high-ranking and seasoned ninja.
The mont they laid eyes on the devastation, their expressions darkened.
The landscape was marred with destruction—large craters, torn earth, and shattered rock. Large and small impact zones pockmarked the area, evidence of a brutal, high-level confrontation. One crater, in particular, stood out: nearly ten ters across and several ters deep, carved cleanly into the terrain like a scar.
There, at the center of the largest crater, traces of blood were visible—dried streaks and spatters on the stone. Scattered around the scene were nurous broken swords—short, thin blades of unique design.
Kurotsuchi’s eyes narrowed as she knelt and picked one up. She recognized the make instantly.
"These were his," she said quietly. "Inoiki’s blades."
Kitsuchi stepped beside her, surveying the battlefield with a solemn frown. "It must’ve been him... and soone powerful."
There was no sign of a body.
----
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