Using the enhanced dynamic vision of his Sharingan, Uchiha Kai deftly avoided the final desperate strike from the last remaining Iwa-nin. With a swift motion, Kai countered and ended the shinobi's life in a single, clean blow.
Exhaling slowly, Kai surveyed the battlefield. Eight enemy bodies lay scattered, unmoving. Though he remained composed, his heart beat slightly faster in his chest. The acrid stench of blood lingered heavily in the air, making his stomach churn—but he felt no sympathy. These were Iwa-nin, after all. Enemies. In the chaos of war, it was either kill or be killed.
He remained silent, not out of cruelty, but conviction. Kai wasn't a sadist, but he couldn't deny that part of him had come to appreciate the clarity that came with battle.
"Life is so fragile… maybe that's what makes it easier," he murmured to himself. Then he sighed and pulled another ration pill from his pouch—his third within the last 24 hours. He didn't like relying on them, but in this war, there was little choice.
The military rations helped, but their effects were mild, and the side effects—insomnia, nausea—weren't enough to make him hesitate. Kai had no luxury for preferences anymore.
Sheathing his short ninja blade, he turned away from the corpse without a second glance and broke into a run—his destination: Imai Kenta's position. If Minato-sensei's battle had ended, he might already be helping to clean up the scattered remnants of the Iwa forces.
Kai wasn't particularly concerned about Kenta's safety. The man was a capable fighter—more importantly, an additional hand in battle could always turn the tide. And Kenta's recovery ability was formidable. Of the two of them, Kenta was in better shape, and Kei knew he'd need that strength.
After sprinting about 500 meters to his left, Kai began to notice the trail of corpses. Upon closer inspection, he noted a common feature: each had been killed by fatal stab wounds.
But unlike Kai's own kills, which were often quick but not always clean, these Iwa-nin had been dispatched with lethal precision. Some bore the marks of surprise attacks, while others had fought before succumbing.
Following the trail, Kai eventually spotted a familiar figure emerging from behind a tree—Kenta, rushing a group of unaware Iwa-nin like a blur of steel.
His speed was frightening. In an instant, he closed the gap, and before the Iwa-nin could react, one fell to the ground with a gurgled scream, throat slit clean.
"Watch out!" one of the others shouted, but it was too late. Kenta didn't pause. He flowed through the enemy ranks like lightning, cutting down the one who'd spoken with brutal efficiency.
Their sudden losses jolted the remaining Iwa-nin into action. They drew their weapons and circled up defensively, forcing Kenta to halt.
From his vantage point, Kai observed calmly. The chance for a sneak attack had passed. This would now be a direct clash—Kenta versus two Iwa-nin.
"Tch... how ironic," Kai muttered to himself. "Since when did I start getting addicted to saving people?"
He chuckled dryly. Kai had always been pragmatic, even selfish. He didn't kill comrades, which was more than some could say, but asking teammates to shield him from jutsu? He'd done that. Once. When death had seemed inevitable.
But saving others? That was something this cursed mission had forced on him.
Konoha would never believe that the Uchiha who'd risked his life rescuing captured comrades was the same man who calculated every move for self-preservation.
With a sigh, Kai flicked two kunai forward—aimed not at Kenta, but toward the Iwa-nin. Reacting like startled birds, they panicked and flung their own kunai in return, momentarily distracted.
They didn't expect another attacker.
Kai burst forward. Even without the Body Flicker Technique, his speed was terrifying. His kunai clashed in mid-air with theirs, and in that split-second distraction, he closed the distance.
One Iwa-nin turned just in time to raise his blade. But against the predictive power of the Sharingan, his movement was pitifully slow. Kai sidestepped the wild slash and buried his own blade into the man's side.
The enemy let out a distorted scream as he collapsed.
The last Iwa-nin visibly trembled, his hand gripping his kunai unsteadily. Kai saw it. That flicker of fear.
But before the shinobi could react further, Kenta was already behind him.
"Thanks for the assist, Captain," Kenta said with a cheerful smile, wiping blood off his blade. His expression was too sincere, almost unsettling in this hellish scene.
"Of course I saved you. Who else is going to take the hit when a jutsu's coming at me?" Kai said dryly, sheathing his weapon.
"Cleanup's mostly done," Kenta replied, ignoring the jab. "Not sure how many Minato-sensei took out, but I imagine it's similar on his end."
Kai nodded. Kenta must have felt the same disturbance he had—Minato's presence earlier in the battle. Their sensei's chakra had flared only briefly, but it had been enough to indicate he'd handled his opponents.
Given that Minato hadn't returned yet, there was only one explanation: he had gone ahead to deal with enemies that Kai and Kenta hadn't reached yet.
Just then, Kai's eyes widened slightly.
Behind him, as if materializing from the wind itself, stood Namikaze Minato.
The infamous Hiraishin no Jutsu—Flying Thunder God Technique. One of the most fearsome and elusive space-time jutsu in existence.
"Kai-kun," Minato said without preamble. "I've located the target... but it's going to be difficult."