"The 432nd..."
The sword flashed in his hand, and a spray of blood burst from a human body. Yet Uchiha Feiyu, whose movements had already become almost instinctive through countless repetitions, sensed that something was wrong.
His figure flickered as he rapidly retreated. The bleeding body transformed into a puppet, and as its mechanisms activated, poison needles and toxic smoke instantly filled the spot where Uchiha Feiyu had just stood.
"Damn brat!"
Amid an angry growl, one puppet after another revealed itself. Ten puppets draped entirely in white cloth, looking like vicious ghosts, directly surrounded Uchiha Feiyu.
"Tch... Old woman Chiyo. Huh, that Scorch Release user isn't with you? Aren't you afraid I'll just cut her down?"
Uchiha Feiyu spoke with a faint smile on his face.
To put it bluntly, if someone like Chiyo dared to stand her ground in a fight to the death, Uchiha Feiyu was absolutely confident he could cut her down. Even if she fled, smashing two or three of her puppets would be effortless.
"Brat, I only need to hold you back. Don't forget that within this dense fog, only we Sand Shinobi have the advantage!"
One of the puppets spoke coldly. Chiyo herself never appeared.
"So that's your plan... Makes sense. How could puppeteers like you possibly have the courage to face the White Fang Sword Style?"
"Your son, son-in-law, and grandson all seem to have died to the White Fang Sword Style. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Left without descendants in your old age—when you think about it, you really are quite pitiful, old woman!"
"What did you say?! You damn brat! What happened to my grandson?!"
"You mean Sasori of the Red Sand? That red-haired, expressionless brat? Of course White Fang of Konoha cut him down!"
"After all, even the so-called Kazekage was