Weakness, Crisis

Flames crackled, ice shattered, and the hissing of steam intertwined.

The charred corpses of flocks of birds scattered in the wind like ash, and the burning trees twisted bizarrely.

The reflection of Goenji's face appeared in the pupils of the frozen beasts, and the frozen branches and leaves reached out like ghostly hands, as if trying to caress him.

Hoo-hoo--!

Goenji took a deep breath, looking at the scene of ice and fire demarcating the terrain before him.

My jutsu should be able to stall a Tailed Beast for a while now, but I didn't expect the enemy to be just as good. My chakra is already running low, so I'd better leave quickly.

Goenji sensed the amount of chakra remaining in his body, realizing that after several battles, very little was left—not nearly enough to cast large-scale Fire Release again.

A burning sensation radiated from his throat, and he swallowed repeatedly. This time, he truly pushed himself to the absolute limit.

Otherwise, given his chakra control and understanding of ninjutsu, burning his own throat would have been utterly impossible.

Still, the enemy definitely had it rough, too.

Having fought for this long, the fact that the opponent could use such massive ninjutsu meant they already possessed a vast amount of chakra.

Swish--!

"Remarkable, Uchiha, but you've already reached your limit. This is the most exhilarating battle I've ever fought; it's truly rare among shinobi."

Fubuki Shiro dropped down across from Goenji, his gaze revealing appreciation.

Huff, huff. He was also breathing heavily, showing that his consumption was not small either.

Goenji: "Indeed. Shinobi battles are always sneaky; nothing like this warrior-style approach. But please remember, we are ultimately shinobi, not warriors."

As he spoke, the corners of his mouth curved up slightly.

He whispered softly: "Explode."

Right around Fubuki Shiro, five or six explosive tags were burning.

Fubuki Shiro's expression turned to one of extreme shock, disbelief flashing in his eyes.

What, in the middle of a battle like this, he still had time to set a trap?

He had lowered his guard and failed to dodge.

Bang--!

A few explosions rang out.

Goenji: "We are shinobi. What we use are tactics and strategy."

Who would play that warrior routine with him?

Based on the exchanges during the fight, in the absence of other enemies, if they fought to a standstill, the enemy would definitely stand right across from him.

Drawing on his past battlefield experience, right after the offensive ended and steam filled the air, Goenji had placed a simple explosive tag trap on the opposite side.

He had guessed that in the heat of such combat, the opponent wouldn't be vigilant about this.

After all, both were jonins with rich experience.

Given the kind of scene that had just unfolded, under normal circumstances, there would have been no opportunity to set a trap; it would only have caused one to lose focus.

And that would lead to losing the ninjutsu clash.

Reality proved just as he thought; the enemy really did stand right across from him. In truth, based on mathematical probability, the chance of success was no more than fifty percent.

Bang--!

The explosions ceased, and Fubuki Shiro reappeared before Goenji's eyes, his body covered in lacerations and blood.

His clothes were tattered, and burn marks appeared on his arms, left cheek, and other areas.

Along with torn flesh caused by the blast.

In the palm of his hand, a crystal of ice rapidly shrank; clearly, at the very last moment, he had still managed to defend against a portion of the attack.

That was what allowed him to survive.

Goenji drew a shuriken: "Go to hell."

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh--!

With a cruel smile, he threw the shuriken, imbued with a trace of vengeful pleasure.

Damn it, finally took one out.

Clang--!

Yet before he even had time to rejoice, a figure appeared before Fubuki Shiro, the Exploding Blade Shibuki intercepting all the shuriken and embedding them into the ground framed by grayish-black and snowy white.

"Fubuki, just like Hoshi, you almost died. How pathetic."

Munashi Jinpachi laughed out loud in mockery.

He showed zero regard for comradeship.

Fubuki Shiro: "Thanks. From here on, it's up to you guys."

"Don't be so polite, it makes us look so ill-bred!" Hozuki Longyue also appeared beside him with a smile, self-deprecatingly poking fun at himself.

Munashi Jinpachi: "We're all orphans, what breeding?"

"Ah~ you're right, we're all orphans, what breeding? We can just follow our instincts."

After chuckling, Hozuki Longyue's expression quickly dropped as he looked at Goenji: "Damn Uchiha brat, getting cocky too early, aren't you? You don't actually think victory is in your hands, do you?"

Munashi Jinpachi: "Enough chatter. Finish him off to avoid any complications."

Beneath the mountain.

Hoo-hoo, a hoarse, intermittent sound, like a broken bellows gasping for its last breath.

Cold sweat rolled down Hoshi Kaguya's temple and into his eye socket. His lucid mind allowed him to visualize insects entering his body, as well as the tactile sensation once they were inside.

They crawled over his calves, knees, waist and abdomen...

It felt as though countless small blades were scraping beneath his skin, causing it to bulge and sink.

The lingering, excruciating pain after chakra exhaustion couldn't compare to how spine-chilling this felt.

The swarm of bugs chafed against the flesh within his body, and Hoshi Kaguya could feel his heart beginning to itch.

Ah--!

A miserable scream rang out.

The piercing pain from his heart caused Hoshi Kaguya's weakened body to erupt with immense energy, unleashing a heaven-shaking shriek.

Like a rusted wire, it slowly tightened around his tendons and heart.

"I, of the Shikotsumyaku Clan, will never yield."

In the end, Hoshi Kaguya ignited the arrogance of the Shikotsumyaku Clan deep within his heart, using his formidable willpower to form a tiger seal with both hands to refine chakra.

Bang--!

Bang-bang--!

Puff, puff, puff--!

Bones shot out from all over his body, scattering and piercing the surrounding environment.

Meanwhile, his body rapidly shriveled away.

Right at that moment, the sound of footsteps went da-da, and Aburame Fuzei emerged from the bushes.

Half of her body was mangled and bloody, and the Aburame cloak was gone.

The low-temperature burns from the freezing caused the left half of her body to go numb.

Only on her face, the remaining half still retained a youthful and vibrant look.

Yet her eyes, which ought to have been tender like water, were currently filled with killing intent and murderous aura.

Insects poured out from her facial orifices, their blood-streaked carapaces gleaming with a metallic luster as they flew back into her sleeve like a black stream.

"Damn it, Ryoma, Ze, I wonder how the captain is doing."

As a member of the Root, despite experiencing a certain degree of emotional warmth during their time together, the long-standing training as Root shinobi still influenced her.

She didn't feel an extreme, raging fury or anything of the sort; it merely caused a ripple in her heart.

What worried her was none other than Goenji's side.

Though she had no idea why her emotions fluctuated like this, that was simply what her heart dictated.

Bang-bang--!

Whoosh--!

Three steps to the left, pivoting off a tree trunk for leverage, trailing flames like a shooting star.

Goenji used the Body Flicker Technique once again, dodging Munashi Jinpachi's explosion and Hozuki Longyue's Water Release.

Yet his chakra was already running thin, and combined with the intense physical exhaustion, he could only rely on the Body Flicker Technique to maneuver and stall.

"Hahahaha, die! Don't keep holding on."

"That's right. I heard your ancestor Madara Uchiha was very strong; why don't you go to the Pure Land and have him teach you some ninjutsu, hahaha."

Munashi Jinpachi and Hozuki Longyue both felt victory was firmly in their grasp.

The cooperation between the two of them was seamless.

Even if Goenji wanted to use Rocket Propulsion to quickly escape the encirclement, he couldn't.

Swish, swish--!

Bang, bang, bang--!

[New Year's is here, I sent her an 8.88 centenary red envelope, and she sent me a 9.99 centenary red envelope. Then I sent an 88.8 red envelope to another girl who doesn't really like me, and she said she didn't have money to eat, and had no money to go home for New Year's—am I warm?]