The smoke and dust slowly cleared, revealing the scene in the arena.
Rustle...
A thick layer of sand surrounded Gaara, now peeling away layer by layer like an eggshell. Every crack trembled slightly, as though it might shatter at any moment, yet Gaara himself remained unharmed—
"Huff... hah..."
Fine grains of sand clung to his blood-red hair. His eyes were still cold, but his face had grown a little paler, and his chest rose and fell with his rapid breathing. Clearly, repeatedly using such powerful Sand Release techniques had consumed considerable chakra.
Still, the Shield of Shukaku and the Sand Sphere of his Absolute Defense had blocked most of the explosions' force.
Only his Third Eye had been destroyed.
After all, it had been linked to his vision.
But...
His body was almost completely unscathed.
Perhaps it was an illusion.
An unusual aura stirred.
And in just that short time, his complexion had already improved considerably, and his breathing was starting to steady.
Gaara had already recovered his composure.
So jinchūriki really were walking cheats.
Monsters of endurance.
“Ghk...” Deidara lay pinned to the ground by the semifluid Sand Prison. His once-flamboyant blond hair was gray with dust, and he clenched his teeth so hard in humiliation that they nearly cracked.
The heat of the explosions had scorched his Iwagakure ninja uniform in several places. Wisps of smoke still rose from its edges, and a streak of dark red blood hung at the corner of his mouth. He looked utterly battered.
He struggled to lift his head, but the sand arms wrapped around his limbs were as heavy as cast iron.
No matter how he channeled his chakra, he could only send faint ripples through the Sand Prison, which instead tightened slowly.
It was agonizing.
And even more humiliating.
"Damn