After all, to the Tailed Beasts, there was no real difference between the shinobi of the Sand Village and those of the Leaf. Once released, the monster would surely slaughter any ninja it laid eyes on, without discrimination.
However, this mission was meant to be a clean retreat—not a chaotic battlefield standoff. And retreating under such unfavorable conditions was far from easy.
"Heh, retreating after a failed ambush? You Sand shinobi really overestimate yourselves," Kawaki Aoba sneered, his voice rising above the din of the skirmish. With a sudden burst of speed, a layer of chakra cloaked his body. The first two gates of the Eight Inner Gates technique opened, surging chakra throughout his limbs.
Although Kawaki Aoba had overcome his earlier issues with chakra control, no ninja on the battlefield would complain about having more power at their disposal.
"Hmph. So you're the Nine-Tails brat of the Leaf? Let's see what the so-called strongest Tailed Beast has made of you," came a fierce voice from the Sand's side.
A figure leaped forward to meet Kawaki Aoba—none other than Pakura of the Scorch Release, famed for her devastating kekkei genkai.
Before she even landed, Pakura raised her hand, conjuring several superheated orbs of chakra—flaming spheres that shimmered with intense heat.
This was Scorch Release: Vapor Style, far more lethal than standard Fire Release, and capable of mummifying foes instantly by evaporating the moisture from their bodies. It was not only powerful but could be controlled with precision, giving her a flexible edge in combat.
"Scorch Release: Burning Ash Haze!"
With a gesture, the scorching orbs hurtled toward Kawaki Aoba.
He didn't act rashly. Though confident, he knew better than to challenge Scorch Release head-on with mere brute force.
"Water Style: Water Bullet Technique!" Kawaki Aoba called out, countering with a swift, focused jet of water chakra. The clash between the two jutsu sent up a massive burst of steam—white, scalding mist that blanketed the battlefield.
Though not an exact counter, the water softened the intensity of the Scorch Release, reducing its lethal temperature. The resulting steam storm engulfed the two of them.
From a distance, it looked like a draw—but both combatants were just getting started.
"Hmph, is that all the Nine-Tails brat can do? If you're that weak, then you'd best stay down," Pakura sneered. She floated more Scorch Release orbs around her like satellites, her eyes narrowing, searching for a critical point on Kawaki Aoba's body.
Aoba frowned. There was a strange, unsettling intensity in her chakra—a killer's intent that made his skin crawl.
"You want to kill me? Then come try."
In a blur, Kawaki Aoba vanished—leaving only an afterimage.
His chakra took on a fluid, flowing quality—blue like mountain spring water. The aura resembled a stream trickling gently across desert sands.
Pakura momentarily felt mesmerized. Water, the most precious element in the Land of Wind... but something was wrong. A chilling sense of danger prickled her skin. Her instincts screamed at her.
Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist—a taijutsu style that Kawaki Aoba had set aside long ago, now reborn with renewed strength and deadly precision. With chakra-enhanced strikes, he moved like flowing water, overwhelming yet elegant.
The azure chakra of his fists met the fiery orbs in midair. The collision unleashed a massive cloud of steam that spread outward like a volcanic eruption, blinding both combatants in white fog.
Even without vision, both were highly trained. They didn't need to see to track each other.
Pakura was stunned. He had caught her Scorch Release orb with his bare hand, dousing it with water chakra before it could burn him. She quickly launched several more—seven or eight blazing orbs streaking toward Aoba's vitals.
On the other side, Aoba frowned. Expending so much water chakra just to block one orb earlier had been inefficient. Now, facing another wave?
It wasn't that he couldn't block them—it was that it would be too slow.
He took a deep breath and moved fluidly, his arms dancing in front of him.
"Water Stream Barrier!"
A defensive taijutsu move from the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist style. His arms deflected the incoming orbs like paddles repelling thrown stones. The orbs bounced off in arcs—only to stop midair.
He had forgotten one critical detail: Pakura's Scorch Release orbs remained under her control as long as they hadn't dissipated.
Sure enough, the deflected orbs halted and then curved back like homing missiles.
Pakura cackled. "Hahaha! What's wrong, little Leaf ninja? Trying to swat my attacks away like flies? Then stand still and die already!"
With a sweeping motion, she conjured yet another wave of superheated orbs, this time surrounding Aoba from multiple angles.
Still mid-technique, Kawaki Aoba's chakra flared unevenly. He winced. That last dodge had cost him more than he expected.
But it wasn't over—not yet. He narrowed his eyes.
Even if he couldn't block them all, he would move—because he had to.
Faced with a barrage of Scorch Release fireballs, Kawaki Aoba finally stopped standing idly. In a flash, he transformed into a water-blue blur and vanished from sight.
It wasn't the Body Flicker Technique, nor was it the Soru (Shave) from the Six Styles. It was Instant Step, a unique movement technique derived from the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist.
Unlike the straightforward bursts of speed from Body Flicker or Soru, Instant Step combined blinding swiftness with fluid adaptability. Like water flowing around obstacles, it allowed for rapid directional changes mid-movement, making it exceptionally difficult to predict or counter.
At that moment, Pakura, manipulating her Scorch Release orbs, tried to stop Kawaki Aoba's advance. Yet his figure weaved through the blazing spheres like liquid, always slipping past them with impeccable timing.
No matter how many times she attacked, Pakura couldn't so much as graze the edge of Kawaki Aoba's cloak.
With each failed attempt, Aoba drew closer and closer.
Gritting her teeth, Pakura reluctantly prepared to retreat. Kawaki Aoba had already shown that in terms of taijutsu, she stood no chance. Yet fleeing wasn't so simple.
"You want to run just because you can't win?" Aoba sneered. "Not happening."
In an instant, his speed surged again, and in the blink of an eye, he was upon her.
"What?!" a nearby ninja exclaimed in disbelief. It was clear now that Kawaki Aoba had been holding back his full speed.
Still, Pakura tried to brace herself and adopted a defensive stance. But no stance could save her from what came next.
A fist, sheathed in Water Release chakra and laced with precise Gentle Fist technique, struck her squarely in the abdomen.
"Agh—!"
Pakura's eyes bulged, her mouth opened in agony, and her face contorted from the pain. The blow was devastating—perhaps the only reason she didn't collapse on the spot was because her body was tougher than most.
But that was only the beginning.
A storm of Gentle Fist strikes followed. Each blow landed with surgical accuracy, cutting off her chakra points and nerves. Each scream was more pained than the last. Up close, Pakura was utterly helpless—like a lamb before a predator.
Even among the Kage-level opponents she'd faced, none had exposed her weaknesses like this. Close-quarters combat was her Achilles' heel—and Aoba exploited it without mercy.
Even Might Guy in his Eighth Gate could have done the same, but Kawaki Aoba didn't even need that power to overwhelm her.
Pakura's body rocked left and right like a ragdoll. She couldn't gather chakra, let alone strike back. The final punch smashed into her cheek with such force that she was sent flying. A bloody tooth spun out of her mouth mid-air.
Aoba didn't hold back—he made sure she knew what it meant to be truly dominated in a battle.
Pakura's limp form soared out of the smoke. Shocked, several Suna Jonin appeared via Body Flicker to catch her, preventing further injury from the fall.
Even so, the impact was brutal—Pakura coughed blood upon landing.
A medic-nin knelt down and hastily checked her condition. His expression darkened.
"This is bad. Multiple bone fractures, internal organ damage. We need to evacuate her now!"
These shinobi weren't necessarily her loyal subordinates, but they respected her authority. If Pakura died here, their own positions in Sunagakure would be in jeopardy.
Without hesitation, they lifted her and retreated, many of them glancing behind anxiously, fearing Kawaki Aoba would give chase.
But they were wrong.
If he had wanted to kill her, he'd already had the chance. There was no need to pursue.
To him, Pakura—strong as she was—wasn't a threat worth eliminating. On the contrary, keeping her alive might stir internal conflict within the Sand leadership.
Let them deal with her defeat. Let her humiliation become political ammunition.
If Pakura knew what Aoba was thinking, she might have died of rage on the spot. This was cruelty beyond death—crushing not only her body, but her pride.
---
"Master Bunpuku, Ebisu-sama has been severely injured. If the Leaf shinobi continue like this, we'll be wiped out. It's time for you to act."
A nearby Suna ninja stood beside the monk, his cold eyes locked on him.
Though Bunpuku, the One-Tail's Jinchūriki, had always been cooperative, today he was being sent to die. And trust was limited.
The guards placed around him weren't normal shinobi. Their orders were clear: if Bunpuku hesitated or tried anything suspicious, they would forcefully extract Shukaku, even if it meant sacrificing Bunpuku.
Bunpuku, hands folded, merely nodded. "Amitabha. Everyone, step back and find shelter. Shukaku is in no condition to be gentle. If you remain, you may be the first to fall."
He took two steps forward, sat cross-legged, and began channeling the ferocious chakra within.
A deep sigh escaped him.
"Shukaku… imprisoning you all these years was my sin. Now, it's time to let go. I only pray… that you show some restraint. If karma exists, then let the debts of this day be paid by me."
His eyelids drooped.
He was using the False Sleep Technique—a method that suppressed the Jinchūriki's consciousness, allowing the Tailed Beast to temporarily take control of the body.
As Bunpuku's consciousness faded, Shukaku stirred in the seal.
But contrary to expectation, the raccoon demon was furious.
"Bunpuku, you damned old monk! Wake up! This Lord has no desire to go out today! Do you hear me?!"
"That brat isn't even the Nine-Tails' Jinchūriki! You've all been fooled! Idiot monk!"
"If you force me out, I swear—I'll kill all those Suna fools, the cowards hiding in their walls, and every last one of those bald monks in the Temple of Wind!"
"Wake up, damn it! You're not allowed to die!"
But no matter how much Shukaku shouted or thrashed, he couldn't change what was happening. Bunpuku was already gone—submerged in deep sleep.
"Bunpuku… you stupid, stubborn fool," Shukaku muttered bitterly, realizing he had no choice.
With a final snarl, Shukaku's consciousness was yanked from the sealing space and poured into the monk's body.
As the transformation began, one side of Bunpuku's face twisted—his skin taking on the jagged markings and beastly snarl of the One-Tail's raccoon form.
The beast had awoken—but not on its own terms.
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