Meanwhile, at the other end of the battlefield, Hatake Sakumo's battle had also reached a critical, white-hot moment.
Facing five powerful enemies-two of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist and three Kirigakure jonin-who risked their lives in relentless, overlapping waves of attacks, Sakumo remained like a reef standing firm in a storm.
He had not drawn White Fang, the chakra short blade renowned throughout the Shinobi World, at the outset. Instead, he held his enemies at bay with nothing more than an ordinary kunai, uncanny footwork, and taijutsu.
His movements were concise and efficient. Every dodge, every block, every counterattack embodied battle wisdom honed through countless trials and timing precise to the millisecond.
He was like an artist dancing on a blade's edge, shifting within the smallest spaces and turning the five enemies' encirclement into a backdrop that highlighted his strength.
He was observing, waiting, searching for the perfect opportunity to break the stalemate in a single stroke-or even gravely wound or kill a key opponent.
His gaze, as calm as a hunter's, pierced the chaotic melee, catching every enemy's mounting impatience as their attacks failed, every opening exposed at a comrade's death, and every subtle hesitation caused by dwindling chakra.
Raiga Kurosuki and Munashi Jinpachi had clearly realized this as well.
They discovered that even five elite fighters could not truly suppress White Fang. Instead, his ghostlike movements and precise counterattacks left them constrained, and some of their men had already suffered minor injuries.
At this rate, they would not merely fail to kill White Fang-they might not even manage to keep him occupied.
"We can't wait any longer, Jinpachi!" Raiga Kurosuki roared furiously. The Kiba in his hands erupted with even more dazzling lightning. "Together! Finish him!"
"Just what I wanted!" A cruel smile spread across Munashi