The teleporting ninjas, led by Edea, formed an impenetrable barrier around Genso, their movements too swift for his unaided eye. Simultaneously, Koyoshi, the ninja Genso had previously overwhelmed, unleashed his peculiar "gundam" technique. The very air thickened, the ground beneath their feet becoming slick with a viscous, saliva-like fluid. This substance, a manifestation of Koyoshi's unique ability, granted him unnatural agility within its confines, allowing him to glide through it with unsettling speed.
For Genso and any caught within its reach, however, it was a debilitating curse. The strange water interfered with the delicate flow of chakra, a subtle yet persistent disruption that dulled physical prowess and clouded mental acuity. Ninjutsu sputtered, genjutsu flickered and failed, and even the simplest movements felt sluggish and heavy.
"Thunderstorm Ninjutsu," Koyoshi intoned, his voice resonating with the building power of his technique. Unlike Genso, Koyoshi adhered to the traditional practice of vocalizing his ninjutsu. This ingrained habit, honed since his earliest training, served as a crucial anchor, synchronizing the intricate dance of hand seals and the precise manipulation of chakra. The spoken word acted as a conduit, directing the flow of energy and solidifying the intended effect.
From the swirling, viscous water, a vibrant blue light coalesced, taking the form of a massive python crackling with raw thunderous energy. The serpentine construct writhed and lunged directly at Koyoshi himself, a seemingly suicidal attack.
Yet, as the lightning python neared, Koyoshi moved with surprising grace within his watery domain, the fluid propelling him aside just as the electric current surged through the space he had occupied. The attack was a feint, a display of power meant to disorient and distract.
Genso, acutely aware of the encroaching threat, desperately sought an opening to teleport to a safer location, a sanctuary where he could replenish his rapidly dwindling chakra reserves. However, Edea, the master of space-time manipulation, had anticipated this. With subtle shifts in the very fabric of reality, he warped the space around Genso, effectively locking him within a confined zone. Escape via teleportation became impossible, the spatial coordinates twisted and unreliable. In that instant, the shadows surrounding Genso surged, coalescing into the forms of over a hundred enemy ninjas, their red eyes burning with malevolent intent in the moonlight.
From Genso's vantage point, they were nothing more than dark silhouettes against the pale glow of the full moon, their crimson eyes the only discernible features. Yet, beyond the visual, he felt a palpable wave of dark, red-purple killing intent radiating from them, a suffocating aura that spoke of their bloodthirsty purpose. He knew, with chilling certainty, that survival through conventional means was impossible. His only recourse lay in a desperate, self-destructive act. With grim resolve, Genso accessed his System inventory, mentally retrieving over a hundred explosive talismans and a similar number of volatile explosive pills.
(Explosive pills, unlike the tags, were designed for proximity detonation. They would trigger automatically when a living being entered a ten-meter radius or upon the impact of a significant explosion. Their activation mechanism was internal, requiring no external trigger.)
Genso prepared to unleash a cataclysmic explosion, his intent to obliterate every enemy within range, a final, desperate gamble. His primary target remained Edea, the architect of his spatial prison, the one who had so effectively manipulated time and space. However, Edea, a seasoned veteran, had already sensed the shift in Genso's intent, the surge of volatile energy. He had swiftly retreated to a safer distance, positioning himself behind a wall of expendable ninjas.
In a fleeting act of calculated sacrifice, Genso teleported five high-level ninjas directly into the path of Edea and his elite combat team, the deadly Nawaji. The five Takage ninja, though caught by surprise, understood their role in that final moment. They launched a furious, albeit brief, assault, diverting the attention of Edea's group.
Though they were ultimately cut down by Edea's superior skill and the coordinated attacks of Nawaji, their sacrifice was not in vain. In the ensuing chaos, fifty other Takage ninjas seized the opportunity, unleashing their own desperate attacks, eliminating over 250 of their opponents – a mirror of Genso's own destructive potential.
The inner pathways of the Takage compound had become a charnel house. Over seven hundred ninjas already lay dead, the air thick with the stench of blood and ozone. Genso, his body battered and his chakra nearly depleted, felt the weight of his impending demise. He closed his eyes, a silent acceptance washing over him. He would trigger the detonation, taking as many of the enemy with him as possible.
Dab dab dab...
The heavy, rhythmic sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the carnage, growing louder with each beat. Someone was running towards him with surprising speed.
Ting
Suddenly, a chilling sensation pierced Genso's senses. 'Mischief Blood Scape,' a voice echoed in the chaos, though not audibly. It was a mental declaration, the activation of a high-level jonin's sinister S-rank ninjutsu. Invisible to the naked eye, microscopic droplets of blood, each containing a potent and malevolent chakra, were being propelled through the air with needle-like precision. These crimson projectiles moved in erratic, zigzagging patterns, their trajectory designed to evade detection. Their insidious purpose: to inject their corrupting influence into their targets without notice or pain.
Before anyone could react, Genso sheathed his bloodied katana with a deliberate shick. "Cover up," he murmured, the two words a quiet pronouncement amidst the din of battle. The act of sheathing his blade seemed final, an acceptance of his fate.
But at that precise moment, his meticulously prepared countermeasures activated. The dark red blood cells injected by the 'Mischief Blood Scape' technique began their insidious work, corrupting the healthy blood cells around them. Simultaneously, this corruption spread through the unseen tendrils of a mysterious sword ninja's technique, a puppeteer who had been subtly manipulating the movements of both living and dead combatants from the heart of the fray.
A mere 1.4 seconds later, a voice, laced with a chilling theatricality, echoed through the blood-soaked corridors. "Haa... Thread Style - Blood Puppet." The puppeteer, revealed by his technique, continued, "You are corroded to be guilty."
A thick, dark red smoke billowed from the puppeteer, spreading rapidly. The air grew heavy with a cloying, metallic scent, the unmistakable aroma of fresh blood. The smoke was sticky to the touch, clinging to surfaces and flesh. This was the work of a true mid-level jonin, his mastery over blood manipulation terrifying.
A surviving enemy ninja, his face grim, spoke up, observing the carnage. "You know... what... a disappointment."
Another, seemingly a leader among the attackers, scoffed. "They all died. No need to be quiet."
Then, a voice filled with manic glee cut through the grim atmosphere. "Now... now... now... let's play." A disturbing, drawn-out laugh followed. "...Ha ha haaa...h."
💥💥💥
The world exploded in a cacophony of sound and fury. Genso's explosive tags and pills detonated simultaneously, a chain reaction of devastating force.
"What happened... Han... na... ha... haaa..." a dazed voice stammered amidst the ringing in his ears.
"Complete these guys aren't ready. Ha," the manic voice chuckled.
Through the dissipating smoke and dust, the puppeteer observed the aftermath. He noted with satisfaction that many ninjas, both those who had fallen and those still barely clinging to life, had already been ensnared by his control. The ninjas who had been relentlessly advancing on Genso now stood frozen, their bodies tense, poised for attack, yet their faces betrayed a silent, internal struggle, their wills fighting against the puppeteer's insidious influence.
"Damn you, puppet ninja!" the leader of the attacking force ground out, his voice tight with fury.
Clang-clang-clang
"Nice ha," the manic puppeteer sneered.
Clink-clink-clink. A rapid series of metallic clangs echoed as the manipulated ninjas, their movements jerky and unnatural, clashed against each other.
The leader, a formidable ninja named Shinso Hataki, disengaged, leaping back to create distance. "Shinso, don't forget my name, idiot," he spat. "Hataki."
A sharp, metallic rain of clinks followed as Hataki hurled a volley of shuriken, each precisely aimed.
Their swords met with a deafening CLANG, followed by a rapid series of shings and clangs that filled the air as Hataki engaged the puppet ninjas. He used a few of his own puppets, concealed until now, to counter the manipulated attackers, while the remaining puppets, under the blood puppeteer's control, attempted to overwhelm the other two leaders.
A sharp, metallic clang echoed from the other side of the courtyard as another figure, previously unseen, intervened in the chaotic battle.
"Nice..." the blood puppeteer purred, observing the unfolding chaos with evident delight.
In the midst of this maelstrom, Genso lay amidst the carnage, desperately trying to coax his ravaged chakra reserves back into equilibrium.
'System,' he willed.
Ding.
'Increase my strength...'
'No.'
'System is not capable for this thing.'
'Check... Something that can make me invincible from others.'
Before the System could even process his request and display any options, a primal instinct, a heightened awareness born from years of survival and the sudden surge of adrenaline, flared within Genso. His seven senses screamed in unison, warning him of imminent danger. Without conscious thought, his body reacted, utilizing a burst of remaining chakra to teleport a short distance away, a reflexive maneuver that saved him from an unseen threat. He landed heavily, a groan escaping his lips. Frustration welled within him.
"Damn it... my bone is fractured and dislocated, and the recovery pills are sometimes disturbing my chakra flow due to the injury. I'm overdoing it." He clenched his teeth against the pain. "Damn it... at this rate, I'll be dead, and my clan members will praise me for a valiant but ultimately futile effort."
His heightened senses now focused on a new threat, a familiar, unsettling distortion in the air behind him. "No, he's the teleporting ninja chasing me. What's more, he can block time and space."
Even as the thought formed, a swift attack, a volley of shuriken, hurtled towards him from his blind spot. "I missed it..." Edea's voice echoed, laced with amusement. "Don't worry, know it's not gonna happen again."
"Edea... don't forget my name," Genso gritted out, pushing himself to his feet despite the searing pain.
"He... ha ha ha... ha," Edea chuckled, a chilling sound that promised further torment.
'Thunder Sword Breathing Techniques, Third Form.'
With a surge of will, Genso drew his remaining katana. The air around the blade seemed to shimmer, crackling with nascent energy. He channeled his breathing technique, focusing every fiber of his being, supercharging his muscles and sharpening his reflexes to an almost preternatural degree. Then, he moved. Not in a straight line, but in a series of unpredictable, zigzagging dashes towards Edea, a blur of motion too fast for the eye to easily track. His lightning-enhanced speed granted him a crucial advantage, closing the distance in the blink of an eye.
Cuesh.
The sound of his blade slicing through the air was followed by a resounding BOOM. Smoke erupted from the spot where Genso's attack had landed, obscuring the immediate aftermath.
Edea, however, was no novice. Having witnessed Genso's speed and the nature of his attacks, he had anticipated the maneuver. Utilizing his unique bloodline ability, he instantaneously transformed his physical form into a swirling cloud of dark smoke. As Genso's blade passed through the dissipating vapor, Edea simultaneously unleashed a powerful space-time ninjutsu, shrouding the surrounding area in an unnatural, oppressive darkness that seemed to swallow the very moonlight.