Faced with a ferocious combined assault that reached fever pitch from the outset, Minato chose not to meet it head-on.
He took a seemingly casual step diagonally backward, and his body drifted lightly away as though it had lost most of its weight. At the same time, his hands, hanging at his sides, flashed across the ninja tool pouches on his thighs as though they had minds of their own.
**Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh-**several dark shuriken shot out with sharp shrieks that tore through the air. They were neither scattered at random nor aimed at anyone's vital points. Instead, with extraordinary precision and anticipation, they targeted the spots where the two clones and Kuromaru himself would plant their next steps, the knees bending to generate force, and the points along their routes where they might change direction!
This ingenious ranged interference was meant to forcibly disrupt their seamless, surging charge and buy him precious time to observe, analyze, and react.
The two chakra-formed "Tsume" clones moved far more nimbly than ordinary people. Faced with the incoming shuriken, they either slipped aside with small sidesteps that seemed almost prophetic or raised forearms covered in hard guards, deflecting the projectiles cleanly with a few crisp clangs. Their advance barely slowed.
The real Tsume occupied the assault's most threatening left flank, sharing an understanding with Kuromaru that went beyond words. In the subtle instant after Minato released his shuriken, before he could follow through with his next movement, she abruptly changed direction at a right angle, seemingly defying inertia. The coldly gleaming kunai in her hand traced a vicious, deceptive arc, stabbing straight at the vital area beneath his right ribs, which his retreat seemed to have left wide open!
Minato seemed to have already etched her fighting style and possible attack routes into his mind. Just as the kunai's icy edge was about to touch his training clothes, he turned sideways and twisted his hips as naturally as a supple willow branch. The movement flowed with the coordination of countless repetitions, allowing that lethal thrust to pass through empty air by a hair's breadth.
At the same time, his other hand, which had appeared to hang casually at his side, somehow already held a standard kunai in a reverse grip. Without looking, he swept it across his flank, and an even louder, piercing clang of metal erupted!
He had intercepted with absolute precision the vicious horizontal slash another "Tsume" launched almost simultaneously from his right, aimed at the artery in his neck! Tiny, brilliant sparks scattered from the violent clash of their weapons, illuminating his calm blue eyes.
Using the powerful recoil from the block, he deftly pushed off the dusty ground with his toes and leaped backward, light as a feather borne on a breeze, attempting to open the distance again and reset his position.
But once the Inuzuka Clan's taijutsu assault broke loose like a burst dam, it allowed not even a moment to breathe. It clung like a festering wound, following as closely as a shadow.
The two solid clones attacked tirelessly, while Kuromaru darted in and out of sight, biting and pouncing specifically at lower-body joints, ankles, and other points of support. Their multidirectional assault formed an ever-tightening, impenetrable net of death, closing over him from every side and angle, above and below, in an unbroken succession of increasingly powerful waves.
The real Tsume's taijutsu featured broad, sweeping movements filled with undisguised, explosive power. Every straight punch and whipping kick carried a chilling rush of air, seeking to crush her opponent through sheer force. Kuromaru, meanwhile, relied entirely on a beast's innate hunting instincts and agility and flexibility far beyond a human's, using sharp claws and fangs to target Minato's ankles, calf tendons, and the backs of his knees. Together with the two clones' intersecting attacks, sometimes treacherous and deceptive, sometimes forceful and direct, they brought the terrifying advantages of coordinated combat into full play, almost as though they shared a single mind.
Within that increasingly dangerous net of attacks, Minato darted, dodged, and blocked like a storm petrel amid a tempest.
His movements always seemed to stay an imperceptible fraction ahead of his opponents' savage attacks, almost as though he could foresee them. Sometimes he swayed like willow fluff in a gale, avoiding blows capable of shattering bones and tearing tendons with the smallest possible movements. Sometimes he stood firm as a rock in raging rapids, using his kunai or his thoroughly conditioned forearms and elbows to deliver perfectly measured blocks that redirected and dissipated force. The occasional lightning-fast counterattack he launched through the narrowest gaps of mortal danger struck like a lurking venomous snake: brief, precise, and vicious, aimed directly at the fleeting weaknesses and openings between his opponents' attacks. They were forced to defend themselves, breaking the rhythm of their continuous offensive.
In his long, steady fingers, that ordinary standard-issue kunai seemed to acquire a soul and life of its own. It traced short arcs that were simple and deadly yet strangely beautiful, resolving one crisis after another that anyone watching would have considered an inevitable hit, all with minimal effort and maximum efficiency.
Yet the seamless, relentless storm of their combined attacks did indeed keep him firmly suppressed. He moved laterally across the training ground, twisting and dodging at high speed, leaving billowing dust and chaotic footprints in his wake. To the spectators, the fight looked fierce and deadlocked, with Minato seemingly at a constant disadvantage, barely able to block and evade and utterly unable to mount an effective counterattack.
"Minato... he looks like he's been on the defensive the whole time. All he can do is keep dodging. It looks so exhausting..." In the stands, a girl with cute twin ponytails clasped her hands before her chest, her pretty eyes full of undisguised worry as she spoke softly to her companion.
"The Inuzuka Clan's Beast-Man Clone, combined with their unique taijutsu attack system, is an extremely troublesome, almost unfair tactic to begin with," Shikaku Nara analyzed calmly. At some point, he had also squeezed into a prime viewing spot in the front row, and now stood with his arms folded, affecting a worldly tone beyond his years.
Yet a sharp light gleamed in his perpetually half-lidded eyes as he followed every subtle transition between attack and defense on the field. "This Namikaze guy has downright freakish combat instincts, reflexes, and precision in chakra control, but he still comes from a civilian family. He hasn't had enough exposure to advanced taijutsu schools or those secret clan techniques. His foundation is still too shallow, and his knowledge of and experience dealing with this sort of specialized coordination are limited. With what he's built up so far, forcing his way through such a thoroughly honed clan fighting method head-on is almost impossible. Right now... he's probably really just hanging on with those inhuman reflexes and his basic taijutsu polished to the limit, looking for an opening that practically doesn't exist."
As though to confirm Shikaku's seemingly objective yet incisive analysis, Minato once again displayed an astonishing feat of reflexes.
He suddenly arched backward, narrowly avoiding Kuromaru's lightning-fast, lethal lunge at his throat. Those stark white fangs passed so close that they nearly grazed the skin along his raised, finely contoured jaw.
Almost in that same microsecond, another "Tsume" seized the instant when the original's attack drew his attention and unleashed a powerful high whipping kick that tore through the air. It howled past the very tips of the blond hair thrown back by his arching movement, the fierce gust sending a few unruly strands over his forehead whipping wildly.
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