The Battle at the Dueling Arena 6

By the time the children reached the edge of the battlefield, the fighting had intensified to a near-fatal level.

The older boys who had been leading the charge stopped and signaled for them to take cover.

Some people crouched low behind piles of rubble, while others climbed up tree trunks on the side of the hill and peeked out.

The air was filled with a mixture of burnt and bloody smells.

The basin was filled with flying pebbles, and fallen Ninjas were everywhere.

The Katsuyu crawled rapidly among the wounded, their mucus sealing one wound after another, but they fell down much faster than their bodies could move.

Tobirama stood guard from the sidelines, but against Isshiki enemy of Isshiki's caliber, all he could do was deflect fatal attacks and prevent them from dying on the spot.

After doing this several times, he was targeted by Isshiki move, and his entire body was once again filled with Black Rods, rendering him unable to move.

Ōnoki ran over with the crowd.

He was in the middle, neither here nor there, and showed no intention of making a move.

To be honest, he likes Konoha.

He listened attentively to Hashirama's speech.

That man, whose smile was like the sun, spoke so well. I was standing in the crowd at the time, my fists clenched, and I felt those words burning in my heart like fire.

Later, when they were assigning tasks, I joined in the fun.

Ōnoki was extremely surprised when he heard Hashirama asking others if they would be willing to use Earth Release to help solidify the foundation.

Ōnoki never even imagined that his strength could be used for anything else.

After his mind was opened, he realized that he could do many things besides fighting. He thought he would be very happy to take on a mission that didn't require him to risk his life to make money.

However, it's unlikely that anyone in the Land of Earth would issue such a mission. After all, they're that stubborn country, and it will probably take some time before they're affected.

Even so, he had no intention of staying in Konoha. After all, he was from the Land of Earth. Life here was indeed good, but there was no place like home. The place where he had lived for more than ten years was still the most comforting.

His uncle, Kudan Moku, seemed completely captivated. After the speech, he praised Konoha, saying that the place had excellent feng shui and the people were kind and generous, truly worthy of being the place founded by the God of Shinobi.

He said he wished he could live in a place like that; he really envied the people of the Land of Fire.

When Ōnoki listened to his uncle rambling on, he felt happy and appreciated because he also liked this place.

Like it or not, if something truly life-threatening happens, we should back down if possible; there's no need to risk our lives.

He came with that in mind.

He wanted to pull his uncle back.

But when he reached the edge of the battlefield, the first thing he saw was his uncle Kudan Moku.

The broad, sturdy figure he had known since childhood was roaring as it charged toward the white monster in the center of the basin.

Kudan Moku's right arm hardened into a gray-black rock, and his fist, enveloped in the gravity fluctuations of Earth Release Chakra, slammed down towards Isshiki like a small mountain.

"Die!"

The wind from the Kudan Moku fist tore through the air, yet Isshiki didn't even glance at him.

A Black Rods shot out from Isshiki's palm and pierced through Kudan Moku's chest in an instant.

The Black Rods pierced through his chest and emerged from his back.

The fist of the Kudan Moku stopped less than half a foot away from the face of the Isshiki. The hardened layer shattered inch by inch, and the gray-black fragments scattered like dust blown by the wind.

He looked down at the hole in his chest, opened his mouth but no sound came out, and then fell backward.

When Ōnoki saw that scene, his mind went blank.

No!!

Ōnoki didn't know how he managed to run those last few hundred meters.

His feet stumbled on the gravel and broken wood, he fell and got up again, the dull pain from his knee hitting the stone didn't slow him down for even half a second.

He knelt down beside the Kudan Moku, his warm blood soaking through his trousers, turning the earth-yellow fabric a dark blackish-red.

He reached out to turn his uncle's body over.

Kudan Moku lay face down in the blood, Ōnoki used all his strength to turn him over.

The face that always held a stern expression as it lectured him was now as pale as paper, its mouth slightly agape.

Ōnoki placed his hand on his uncle's chest. He didn't know Mystical Palm Technique, but he still covered the still-bleeding hole with his palm, as if that would stop the bleeding.

"It's alright, it's alright, Uncle, I'll be right there—"

He didn't finish speaking because he saw that his uncle's pupils had already dilated.

Those eyes looked at him, as if trying to say something, reflecting his face, contorted with terror and grief, but there was no light in them anymore.

Ōnoki's lips began to tremble.

He wanted to shout, to yell, to cry out, to ask his uncle why he was working so hard, to ask why he was dying for another country.

But it felt like something was blocking my throat, and I could only make short, breathy sounds.

He lowered his head, his forehead pressed against the blood-stained chest of the Kudan Moku, his fingernails digging into the flesh of his thigh.

Isshiki's eyes swept around, and the corners of his mouth widened into an even wider grin.

The Ninjas who rushed at him were not a threat to him, but merely vessels.

He raised his hand and precisely grabbed the head of a Hyuga Clan Ninja who was trying to strike him with Gentle Fist.

Another Uchiha clansman who rushed up had his kneecap shattered by a kick, and before he even fell to the ground, he was grabbed by the back of the neck.

The wedge-shaped markings spread from Isshiki's palm, crawling towards the two people's bodies. But they were only halfway there when they cried out in pain, unable to withstand the intrusion of the wedges.

He frowned and let go.

Unqualified.

Their bodies were repelling his power, and the wedge couldn't be driven in. A wedge driven into the wrong person would only burn the container to ashes.

He tossed the person aside and looked into the distance.

On the cliff face, Hashirama was still treating Madara, Katsuyu covering Madara's shattered chest. Tobirama was bandaging his own wounds, staring intently at Madara, seemingly planning another sneak attack.

Further away, Tadayo was carrying Izuna as they walked through the mountains and forests.

Tadayo was very fast; in such a short time, they almost disappeared from his sight. If he hadn't been able to see through things with his Byakugan, he probably wouldn't have been able to find them at all.

Those are all relatively suitable containers.

Especially Hashirama Senju, or Madara Uchiha.

Tobirama Senju was also good, but that guy was too fast to catch.

As for Izuna? He just wanted him dead.

But they are all too far away now, and there are always annoying flies buzzing around.

His wedge pattern is collapsing at an accelerated rate, Jigen's body has begun to show signs of collapse from the inside out. He is no longer able to leave this crater.

However, as long as there is a temporary, supportive container, even if it is incomplete, as long as it can temporarily hold his consciousness and give him the opportunity to find a better goal, that will suffice.

No rush, there are still so many people around. If we attack them all, someone will eventually hold on.

Ōnoki gently laid his uncle's body flat and closed his open eyes with his fingers.

His legs were trembling when he stood up, but his eyes were no longer tearing.

He looked up at that Isshiki.

The white monster was moving through the crowd, scrutinizing each Ninja as if selecting goods, and then discarding them like trash the moment it found someone unqualified.

Some of those who were thrown away had broken arms and legs, some had ruptured internal organs, and some had their bodies pierced but did not die.

This guy deliberately avoided vital points, sparing their lives, but it's unclear why he spared their lives.

Just as he was observing, a hand suddenly grabbed him.

It was Setsuna.

His right arm was pierced by Black Rods, the muscles in his forearm were torn open, and blood flowed down his wrist, staining his cuffs dark red.

Two severed Black Rods were still stuck in his legs, one on the outside of his thigh and the other on his calf.

He scolded him anxiously after seeing Ōnoki's face clearly.

"How did you get here!" Setsuna voice was hoarse and urgent, laced with the blood and froth he hadn't coughed up. "Get out of here!"

Ōnoki stared at him with wide eyes.

"Did you hear that! Run before that guy notices you!" Setsuna shoved Ōnoki.

Ōnoki stumbled as he was pushed, his knee hitting the gravel on the ground. A sharp pain shot up from his knee, but it was nothing compared to the dull, hollow pain in his chest.

He glanced back at the corpse of the Kudan Moku.

My uncle lay flat on the ground; the blood from the hole in his chest had stopped flowing, and the bleeding had quickly disappeared into the earth.

The eyes he closed for him were shut quietly, and he looked very peaceful.

"... I can't leave." Ōnoki heard his own voice, hollow as if it came from a deep well, "He killed my uncle."

He Setsuna for a moment, then noticed the corpse on the ground. His pupils contracted sharply before returning to Ōnoki's face.

"What good will it do you to stay?" He snapped at him Setsuna a low voice, "Your uncle is dead! What good will you do here!"

A loud explosion rang out in the distance, and another Ninja was Isshiki into the air, his body slamming against the mountainside with a dull thud.

The Ninja's back was bent into an abnormal arc, indicating that he was taking in more air than he was exhaling.

Isshiki flicked his hand, his grayish-white pupils scanning the area once more.

Ōnoki was stunned. It was Tōho who had just come here with Uncle Kudan Moku.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he raised his hand to unleash his Dust Release.

Setsuna yanked his hand away and slapped him hard across the face.

A crisp "snap" sound.

Ōnoki's head was knocked to the side, and half of his face stung with pain. He froze, then turned to look at Setsuna.

"That guy can absorb Ninjutsu!" Setsuna roared. "Only Taijutsu works on him! If you don't want to die, get out of here! Do you hear me?!"

Just then, as if remembering something, she Setsuna looked up.

Although it was well hidden, he still managed to see it.

There are children in the forest.

"You!" Setsuna looked at Ōnoki, "Don't you know it's dangerous here! Why did you follow us!"

A broken syllable escaped Ōnoki's throat; he didn't know what to say.

"These damned brats..." Setsuna clenched his teeth, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Who sent them?!"

As he said this, a boy with black hair and white eyes angrily stood on a high place and drew back the bowstring.

This time, he didn't aim as he had done in previous practice sessions; he simply let go of his hand as he pleased.

That arrow was shockingly accurate, aiming straight for Isshiki's head.

The arrow shrank not far from Isshiki tilted his head and swept his radiating pupils in that direction.

"... Byakugan?" His voice held a hint of surprised interest. "So young."

He raised his hand, palm facing Shūichi's direction.

"Shūichi!" Setsuna didn't care whether he would die from blood loss after removing the Black Rods; he simply pulled the Black Rods off his leg, stood up, and rushed towards the child.

Ōnoki moved.

He lowered his body and slapped the ground with his palm.

Earth Release! Earth Style Wall!

A thick earthen wall suddenly rose from the ground in front of Shūichi, blocking the Black Rods.

Shūichi's second arrow emerged from the side of the earthen wall and shot at Isshiki again.

Isshiki frowned, and this time he grabbed the arrow and shattered it.

When he did this, a gap was exposed on his right side.

A dark figure darted out from the pile of rubble on the side.

It was Yotsuki A.

Blue lightning from Lightning Release Chakra Mode exploded around him, his speed almost comparable to Tobirama's Flying Thunder God. He transformed into a blue afterimage, bursting out from the pile of rubble.

The speed of this punch was so fast that Ōnoki didn't even see which direction Ai came from. He only saw a blue lightning bolt flash across his vision before the fist was already at Isshiki's ribs.

But Isshiki realized what was happening.

Just as Ai's fist was about to touch the white robe, his body shifted halfway to the side, and the fist, wrapped in Lightning Release, missed its mark.

Ai and Isshiki exchanged a few moves.

His Lightning Release Chakra Mode is indeed fast, and his punches are powerful enough to split mountains and shatter rocks, but the experience he has accumulated in close combat is something that Isshiki his age cannot surpass.

After a few rounds, the outcome was clear.

After Ai's straight punch missed Isshiki Shi grabbed his wrist with his backhand, and Black Rods shot out from his palm one after another, driving into his shoulders, arms, thighs and abdomen, pinning him to the ground.

The black lines of the wedge spread from Isshiki's palm and crawled towards Ai's body.

A searing pain exploded within her, and Ai clenched her teeth so tightly they rattled, but she managed not to utter a sound.

But now he knew why those people were wailing.

The pain was indescribable, almost driving him mad, as if something was tearing at his consciousness, trying to rip his soul out of his body.

The wedge pattern stopped halfway through.

Yishi frowned Isshiki and loosened his grip. Still not up to standard.

He tossed Ai aside, his greyish-white pupils scanning the surroundings once more.

Shūichi was still firing arrows.

He drew his bowstring taut again and again, and shot arrow after arrow at Isshiki.

After reducing the size of the arrow several times, Isshiki's patience ran out.

He raised his hand, his five fingers spread, and a huge black cube appeared above his palm. Then, with a casual wave of his hand, he crushed it in the direction where Shūichi was.

The cube blocked out the sun, casting a shadow over the entire scree slope.

Just then, they arrived in Setsuna.

His right arm was still bleeding, and the wound on his leg from the Black Rods had torn wider as he ran, but he was still a step ahead of the cube.

He grabbed Shūichi by the back of his collar and, with all his might, flung the child to the side.

Shūichi's body rolled several times on the pile of rubble before finally stopping after crashing into a fallen tree trunk.

He struggled to his feet and looked back at the spot where he had just been standing.

The huge black cube had already crashed down, and Setsuna didn't have time to jump out.

The cube rolled over the ground, squeezing out gravel and dirt from its edges, and then everything came to a standstill.

Shūichi knelt on the pile of rubble, his eyes wide open as if they would burst from their sockets. "Master!!"