"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The tremors from the wind blades slamming into the ground traveled continuously from beneath their feet through every part of their bodies. Their tensed muscles contracted again and again with each vibration, until the dust stirred up by the wind blades slowly rose past their chests. Only then did the countless wind blade attacks cease.
"Hmm?"
"It... it stopped?"
"Am... am I dead?"
Then, after the ground had stopped shaking for a while, everyone inside and outside Konoha stared in stunned disbelief. Almost in perfect unison, they lowered their heads and felt their bodies. After confirming that none of them had lost an arm or a leg, they instinctively swept their gazes around. However, dust filled the air, and they could see nothing. They could only mutter blankly.
But clearly, they were not dead.
In fact, almost all those densely packed wind blades had not even touched the corners of their clothes. Forget being injured—they had not even felt a wind blade brush past them. It was as if every wind blade had deliberately avoided them.
At that moment, amid the obscuring dust, although they could not see anything clearly, they could feel the softness beneath their feet after their initial shock. It was not that their legs had gone weak from fright; rather, the ground around them had become soft.
And from their experience, that softness was clearly what the ground felt like after being plowed through. In other words, they were unharmed, but the surrounding earth had already been plowed over once, thoroughly ground into particles of soil by those wind blades.
As they stood there muttering in a daze, a lingering terror began to rise endlessly in their hearts. Gradually, they unconsciously swallowed.
"He... controlled... the wind! He controlled the wind! Not