Although Kazuo didn't believe that even dozens of puppet masters combined could not be a match for Kakuzu, he still heeded his wife's advice. Using a secure communication method, he sent a report to the Second Kazekage, Shamon.
"It's done. I've sent the intel to Lord Shamon using puppet techniques," Kazuo announced. "However, using such a method means the report will take some time to reach him. We can't wait for reinforcements—Kakuzu must be taken down today. Understood?"
The group of puppet masters nodded in agreement, each checking their equipment before stealthily advancing toward Kakuzu's position.
The midday desert sun was blistering. A massive boulder, towering nearly eight meters, stood isolated in the vast expanse. Kakuzu sat atop it, eyes half-closed, sensing the approaching presence of those foolish enough to challenge him.
When they finally appeared—dozens of figures forming a battle line in the distance—Kakuzu opened his eyes lazily and scanned them. Trained shinobi, no doubt. Their chakra levels were significant.
"Bold, aren't you?" Kakuzu muttered. "Coming at me head-on."
Kazuo chuckled at the remark. "Kakuzu, thank you for the compliment. You might think a mere handful of ninja are no threat to you. But perhaps you've misunderstood something."
With a dramatic gesture, Kazuo swept his arm outward.
"We're not just dozens. We're hundreds. Understand?"
At his signal, the puppet masters behind him retrieved scrolls in unison. Their hands moved swiftly through seals, chakra threads flowing into the scrolls.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
With sharp bursts of sound, puppets began materializing, floating ominously as the threads connected them to their masters. Each puppet moved with precision, a testament to the skill of its controller.
Though the abilities of the puppet masters varied, even the least skilled among them could control three to four puppets simultaneously.
Leading the front were Kazuo and his wife, Tachibana. Their prowess was remarkable—Kazuo controlled nearly 90 puppets, while Tachibana managed over 70.
Altogether, the puppet masters summoned an army of four to five hundred puppets, their sheer number blotting out the sun. The desert seemed to darken as if the world itself was overshadowed by this mechanical horde.
Seeing this, Kakuzu straightened slightly, intrigued. While he didn't specialize in puppet techniques, he'd heard of their complexities. Puppet masters were often divided into two schools of thought:
Some focused on quantity, striving to control as many puppets as possible to overwhelm their enemies. Others pursued quality, crafting a few exceptionally powerful puppets capable of overwhelming many lesser ones.
Each approach had its merits, and debates between the two camps were fierce. Kakuzu had heard rumors of a rare few who mastered both paths, creating armies of elite puppets that were nearly unstoppable.
For a moment, Kakuzu pondered this. But his musing was fleeting—such philosophical matters were less engaging than the battle at hand.
With a casual motion, Kakuzu dusted the sand from his hands and prepared to rise. But just as he was about to stand, his sharp eyes caught a flicker of movement.
"Interesting," he murmured, sitting back down with a smirk.
Amid the puppet masters, someone broke rank. A cloaked figure, previously blending into the group, suddenly tore away their disguise.
Clang!
Drawing a short blade, the intruder moved with blinding speed, dashing toward Kazuo's unguarded back like a streak of lightning.
"Watch out!" Tachibana shouted, instantly recognizing the threat. She directed her puppets to intercept, but the attacker was too fast.
Slash!
A single, precise strike severed seven or eight of Tachibana's puppets.
The sudden betrayal left the puppet masters stunned. They hadn't anticipated someone infiltrating their ranks so thoroughly.
"Unforgivable!"
"Kill him!"
"Let's show him the power of our puppetry!"
The battlefield erupted in chaos as the intruder faced the fury of the puppet army.
Amid the cacophony of voices, the puppeteers skillfully maneuvered their creations, directing them toward the silver-haired youth. His eyes narrowed with a flicker of frustration as his initial strike failed to land. But there was no time to dwell on it—his opponents had already regained their composure.
Clutching his short blade, he moved swiftly, his left hand deftly countering the onslaught of puppets surrounding him. It had to be said: the silver-haired youth's swordsmanship was remarkable. Despite the flurry of blades, axes, and spears slashing toward him, not a single strike grazed even a strand of his hair. On the contrary, every swing of his short blade rendered a puppet into a heap of shattered parts.
It didn't take him long to uncover a key weakness: the chakra strings. With precision and efficiency, he began severing the connections that linked the puppeteers to their creations. Once a string was cut, the puppet collapsed, lifeless and inert.
Seizing an opening, he leapt into the air. Lightning Release chakra surged into his blade, crackling with intense energy. With a resounding shout, he brought the electrified blade down in a sweeping arc.
Boom!
The golden sands of the battlefield erupted in a thunderous explosion of dust and debris. This single, devastating strike didn't just obliterate the puppets—it incapacitated three or four puppeteers caught in the range of the Lightning Release. They screamed and writhed in agony, collapsing to the ground. Though some clung to life, their ability to fight had been thoroughly stripped away.
"Well, now!" Kakuzu adjusted his stance, a rare hint of admiration in his voice. "The reputation of surpassing the Sannin is well-earned."
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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