"You are always so reckless!"
The light, feeble words felt like nails piercing into Uchiha Yoruki's heart, driving deeper with each syllable. Before him, Uchiha Yoru had used his body to shield against the devastating blast of the explosive sword. The force of the detonation had shattered numerous bones and ruptured vital organs, leaving no room for survival. Even Tsunade's medical expertise would be powerless to save him now.
Uchiha Yoru's pupils slowly dilated, his body crumpling lifelessly to the ground.
Jinpachi Munashi, momentarily stunned by the scene, shifted his gaze to Uchiha Yoruki. A flicker of annoyance crept into his eyes as he observed the young Uchiha. Biwa Juzo and Kushimaru Kuriarare, injured from Yoruki's earlier assault, were still recovering. Alone, Jinpachi knew he stood no chance against this enraged adversary.
"Such a nuisance," he spat bitterly, casting a disdainful glance at Uchiha Yoru's fallen form.
But before he could utter another word, an overwhelming, icy chill swept over him.
Swish!
In the blink of an eye, Uchiha Yoruki appeared before him, his blade aflame, the fire raging uncontrollably as if mirroring the fury in his heart.
"You must die!"
Yoruki's voice roared like a wounded beast, hoarse yet filled with an unbridled ferocity that sent shivers through those who heard it. His crimson Sharingan spun wildly, the three magatama within his eyes rotating at an unnatural speed.
Boom!
Jinpachi Munashi instinctively raised his sword to block, only to be sent flying nearly ten meters from the sheer force of Yoruki's strike. His arms trembled violently from the impact, struggling to hold his weapon steady.
"What monstrous strength! What's happening to this kid?" Jinpachi muttered, shaken.
Before he could regain his footing, Yoruki charged again, his strikes relentless. The air around him seemed to crackle with his murderous intent.
From a distance, Fugaku and the others took in the scene. Their eyes widened as they noticed Uchiha Yoru's twisted, lifeless body. The realization struck hard—this was Yoruki's father.
"Yoruki…" Fugaku whispered, his heart heavy. He understood the madness driving the boy now.
Back on the battlefield, Jinpachi was being pushed back, his defensive stance barely holding against Yoruki's vicious onslaught. For the first time, fear clouded his thoughts.
As if in response to his plight, two figures darted forward. Biwa Juzo and Kushimaru Kuriarare, though injured, joined the fray, surrounding Yoruki. Together, the three aimed to subdue him.
Even so, Yoruki's attacks continued with a ferocity that left them reeling. Yet, as Biwa Juzo had predicted, with their combined efforts, the tide began to shift. Yoruki could no longer overwhelm them with sheer force.
Fugaku and the other Konoha ninjas watched in growing despair. Yoruki, consumed by rage, showed no signs of slowing down. If they lost him, the battle—and the war—would surely be lost.
Amidst the chaos, Konoha ninjas fell one after another. Yoruki, entangled by the three enemies, still fought with maddening intensity. His once-handsome face twisted into something grotesque, distorted by anguish and fury. The rotation of his Sharingan's magatama grew faster and faster, an ominous sign of something brewing within him.
"Father!" Yoruki's anguished scream echoed across the battlefield. His desperation reached a breaking point, and in that moment, his spinning magatama began to shift, linking together.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
With a roar, Yoruki unleashed a feral attack that forced his three opponents to retreat momentarily.
Swish!
As he stepped back, his crimson eyes transformed. The three magatama vanished, replaced by an intricate pattern of interwoven black flames. The design was mesmerizing—beautiful yet terrifying in its intensity.
When the change completed, Yoruki, though still clouded by rage, felt an unfamiliar surge of power coursing through him. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. A newfound strength pulsed within his veins, commanding his attention.
But there was no time to dwell on it. His focus returned to his enemies, and with a burst of speed, he charged once more.
Yoruki's blade moved like lightning, its fiery edge carving through the air.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Jinpachi and his comrades barely managed to block the successive strikes. However, amidst the chaos of clashing steel, a hidden blade of fire slipped through their defenses, cutting across them.
The three fell back, clutching fresh wounds.
"This kid… his speed, his movements—they've changed!" Jinpachi muttered, shaken by Yoruki's newfound agility and precision.
Kushimaru Kuriarare squinted at Yoruki, his tone grim. "Look at his Sharingan. Am I imagining things, or has it transformed?"
Hearing this, Jinpachi and Biwa Juzo turned their attention to Yoruki's eyes. Their breath hitched as they noticed the intricate flame patterns replacing the familiar magatama.
"What… what kind of eyes are those?" Juzo murmured, dread creeping into his voice.
Yoruki, seemingly oblivious to their fear, reached up and pressed a hand to his left eye. "This power…" he muttered, his voice almost reverent.
Slowly, his fingers parted, revealing the full brilliance of his transformed Sharingan. A surge of red chakra erupted from his left eye, coalescing into a solid, tangible form.
Before him materialized a massive red sword, its blade several meters long and adorned with flame-like shapes. It hovered ominously, pulsating with raw, destructive energy.
"Rekka no Ken[Blazing Fire Sword]," Yoruki whispered, his voice carrying an eerie calm.
His gaze locked onto Jinpachi and the others. Blood trickled from his left eye, a sign of the immense strain his new power exacted. But Yoruki seemed unfazed, his focus unyielding.
Zheng!
The crimson blade quivered, then shot forward at blinding speed. Jinpachi and his comrades barely had time to react.
Juzo stepped forward, wielding his beheading sword in a desperate attempt to intercept the strike.
Clang!
The weapons collided. For a brief moment, there was a stalemate. But then, with an audible crack, Juzo's blade shattered. The pieces fell like rain, his once-mighty weapon reduced to fragments.
Juzo stared in disbelief. His hands, which had gripped the sword moments ago, were now severed at the wrists. Yet, curiously, there was no pain
...
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