The wind and snow swept across the charred rubble. All that remained where Obito had vanished was a pool of stinking black blood.
Yoru had both hands in his trench coat pockets. The sole of his shoe crushed a chunk of White Zetsu flesh that still retained some warmth, making a wet, teeth-grating squelch.
Black Zetsu had slipped into a crack in the ground with incredible speed, like a dead loach scalded by boiling water, leaving behind not even a scrap.
"Ran faster than a rabbit."
Yoru spat, then licked his chapped lips with the tip of his tongue. His mouth was full of the earthy stench of dirt.
Across the battlefield.
The Demonic Statue of the Outer Path, which had looked like a mountain moments ago, had now been smashed into rotten timber scattered across the hills.
The air reeked of decaying wood mixed with scorched gunpowder.
Over a thousand Iwagakure genin clad in black Chakra Armor trudged through the mud, carrying Gatling guns whose barrels still steamed.
Their mechanical boots stepped over pale chunks of rotten flesh, producing chilling crunching sounds.
Not one intact corpse remained among the hundred thousand White Zetsu.
They had all been blown into paste by high-density Explosive Tags and sealing shells.
Kitsuchi planted his greatsword into the ground, scratched at his sweat-soaked, itchy scalp, and shouted, "All of you, keep your eyes peeled! If you see a White Zetsu still breathing, put two more rounds into it!"
"You got it, Captain!"
Several genin shouted back, raising their guns to spray the white sludge on the ground again. The muzzle flashes lit up their faces, streaked with excited black grease.
"The Akatsuki Organization... is truly finished this time."
Minato approached in his white Hokage cloak, a few bright red bloodstains dotting its pristine hem.