"Kitsuchi-sama..."
Watching the white mist explode in the distance, the Kumogakure forces that had spread out to form an encircling pincer formation all came to an abrupt halt. Akaiwa, acting as deputy commander, glanced at Kitsuchi, who had stopped in front of him, and spoke hesitantly.
"Cross one off."
Hearing the hesitation in his deputy's voice, Kitsuchi turned around and spoke loudly to Akaiwa and the Iwa shinobi spread across a five-hundred-meter radius. Yet there was not the slightest trace of disappointment in his words.
The faint dejection on the faces of the scattered Iwa shinobi gradually faded, replaced by an expressionless resolve.
Even the hesitant Akaiwa nodded.
Good thing we prepared everyone beforehand and told them the one we were chasing might be a Shadow Clone Jutsu. And good thing everyone knows how cunning Taki Chiba is. Although that brat managed to feint us and escape at the last moment, then split off a Shadow Clone Jutsu and brazenly fled in separate directions right before our eyes...
Still, everyone has accepted it and calmed down. This failed pursuit has not had too serious an impact.
Kitsuchi nodded to himself, feeling somewhat relieved.
Tch! I don't know whether Taki Chiba did it deliberately or not, but while struggling, he killed all thirty sensory shinobi we brought along. If we still had sensory shinobi, why would we need to go through all this trouble now?
At the same time, Kitsuchi gritted his teeth in hatred toward Taki Chiba. In his mind flashed the sight of the Hell Flower blooming—the punch that shattered the ground beneath the formation of sensory shinobi before they had time to disperse.
At the time, with five thousand men forming the encirclement, they had believed victory was certain. To avoid having their precious sensory shinobi spread out