On the other side, Ryusei sensed the battles were going well on every level.

Orochimaru was holding the Raikage, Tsunade was forcing back the brothers, and Konoha’s wider ranks fought harder than ever, their morale rising as they praised Tsunade and reaped the benefits of Katsuyu’s support, an advantage their enemies could only envy.

Ryusei’s thoughts flicked toward the Raikage family, “Those kinds of exaggerated physiques don’t just appear among civilians.”

“They must also have some secret training method, probably conditioning their bodies through lightning, like a kind of hormesis.”

But, at least Killer B didn’t yet share a perfect bond with Gyūki.

That Ryusei was genuinely thankful for.

If he had, they would already be finished.

But history reassured him.

Even during this same war, canocanily later, perhaps even a few years later, Killer B hadn’t yet mastered Gyūki’s full cooperation against Minato; he only managed imperfect partial transformations.

That was why Ryusei had concluded it was safe for Tsunade to be here. Three monsters had come for the Den, but Konoha had two of its own. That was enough to lock them down.

Ryusei didn’t just rely on sensing alone. Over the last three months, he had also trained himself in sensory jamming and likely pushed it further than almost anyone else could.

With Tsunade’s near-infinite chakra reserves sustaining him, he had the luxury of time to refine everything.

He’d realized early that jamming would become invaluable against larger groups once his strength grew and he needed to secure greater merits.

Now, that training paid off. Kumo shinobi all across the battlefield struggled to coordinate properly, their signals and chakra perceptions muddied under his interference.

It kept them from scrambling an effective response for as long as possible.

But as the tide slowly turned and his presence became known to more and more allies, Ryusei shifted tactics.

He stopped spreading his clones thin to help everyone indiscriminately.

Instead, he focused on intercepting the enemy units that might break through, the ones that could see through his jamming and gather together in numbers large enough to pose a real threat to him and Tsunade.

Ryusei had already calculated the critical mass of enemy power that could overwhelm him, not in terms of his reserves, but in sheer potency.

If enough of Kumo’s elites grouped, he would be defeated despite the reserves.

His role was to prevent that from happening at all costs.

And he was realistic about his limits. Tsunade didn’t have truly infinite chakra, so neither did he now.

Her Yin Seal didn’t work by pouring out her entire daily stamina; it only drew a possible small fraction passively, storing it over time.

She also couldn’t pour out all those reserves in advance, since Kumo’s strike had to be lured in.

If she had revealed her hand too early, they might have pulled back before committing to the attack.

If it really created infinite energy, the war would already be over; Tsunade and Ryusei together could have crushed every enemy Konoha faced.

The truth was harsher. Also, not everyone had talent for large-scale clone use, and even with his gifts, Ryusei could only sustain a dozen or two at most.

In truth, the more clones one created, the harder it became to manage, not just from the chakra cost, but because dividing jutsu shiki evenly across so many smaller fractions strained the mind to its limit.

It also limited his previous “cheat code” training method.

If it could truly be pushed to these highest limits, he might have already reached the peak of Kage-level power, for example, not only a Quasi Kage level.

Just because he used those powers to fuel his days didn’t mean it was without discretion.

And if he had relied on them indiscriminately, then no real learning or progress would have been happening anyway, just some directionless pure waste.

Enough slug batteries and chakra reserves also had to stay close to Tsunade, where they mattered most, so he couldn’t afford to spread himself thin across the field.

That was why he used his clones carefully. Just enough in the beginning to build his easy reputation, and then, when the moment came, to surgically strike key enemies and captains.

Ryusei swept the battlefield with his senses, a few of his clones already unleashing the new techniques he had honed over the past months, all A-rank, all chosen deliberately to cover the gaps in his arsenal.

Each one felt like a new limb added to his body, tailored for a different purpose.

One clone braced low, stone cracking beneath its palms. “Earth Release: Fortress Stone Bulwark.”

Jagged walls surged up, locking together in heavy slabs, a shield that could swallow enemy fire and still stand. Pure defense, exactly what he needed when faced with overwhelming force.

Another clone twisted the air into a screaming vortex. “Wind Release: Gravitational Gale.”

A current of slicing wind dragged shinobi off their footing, pulling them straight into kill zones or scattering their formations. Not raw destruction, but control, perfect for dragging prey into reach.

The last moved with fluid hands, summoning a towering serpent of water that snaked across the cavern. “Water Release: Abyssal Serpent Dragon.”

Unlike the standard technique, his could be steered, its body curling through stone and rubble before coiling around its target and collapsing in a crushing implosion of pressure. Long-range, wide-area, and decisive.

Together, these three jutsu gave him what he had lacked before: an unshakable defense, a way to manipulate the field, and a devastating tool for striking at a distance.

Ryusei then felt another clone in the distance had just cut down an interesting Kumogakure jōnin carrying a rare Magnet Release.

The man used magnetized shuriken to tag opponents, forcing weapons to drag toward them no matter how they dodged.

A clever gift, pure in its execution, and Ryusei remembered faintly that he was even revived in the Fourth War. But here, his fate had already been sealed.

The clone had broken him systematically, first erecting an Earth Bulwark to block his sight lines, then scattering the shuriken mid-air with Gravitational Gale, and finally trapping him with a Water Dragon Serpent that coiled and crushed.

Once pinned, another clone slipped in under stealth, scalpels glowing as it carved through his nerves, but slowly, as if still in practice, as taught to him recently by Tsunade as well, memorized with his otherworldly memory, before finishing the kill. Ryusei didn’t even care to recall the man’s name.

Another feed came back minutes later. This clone had run into Dodai, a name which he remembered, this time, but from that same future war, and his signature Lava Release turned to elastic rubber shields, another unconventional use of advanced elemental kekkei genkai.

Unlike other lava users, Dodai’s art neutralized piercing and crushing damage, making his squad infuriating to deal with.

That clone had been forced to dig deep.

Coiling Serpent Fist flowed into Shock Step bursts, letting him blitz around the rubber barriers before Dodai could reorient.

Wind Release gales pulled the squad off their feet, Flowing Willow Guard parried their counters, and shadow clones swarmed the backline with kunai combinations.

A Water Serpent Dragon snaked across the cavern, battering their defenses until it exploded in crushing pressure.

Dodai barely pulled his men out with half their number down, his rubber armor sliced open in places. 

As dozens of minutes bled away, Ryusei’s senses stretched over the entire battlefield.

The tide was finally turning.

Then his senses spiked.

Two sharp, focused signatures cutting through the jamming field.

These weren’t strays.

These had cut through his clones, burned straight through the diversions, and were coming directly for him.

Two elite jōnin, fast and coordinated.

Ryusei exhaled once, then grinned, drawing in another surge of chakra from the nearby Katsuyu fragments, topping himself back to full after the drain of his last round of clones.

His narrow, slit-eyed expression sharpened, more snake than man. “So… it’s finally my turn.”

Ryusei exhaled once, then grinned, drawing in another surge of chakra from the nearby Katsuyu fragments, topping himself back to full after the drain of his last round of clones.

“You know,” he said lightly, eyes narrowing, “you’re starting to feel less like a legendary summon and more like my personal power bank. Doesn’t that sting your pride at all?”

The slug’s voice came back in its usual quiet monotone. “Pride is for those who need recognition. I am content to serve my summoner, Lady Tsunade.”

“Well… You’re like the best portable plug-in I’ve ever had. With how often I drain you, you might as well be my second chakra system. Always giving, never asking. Look at how hundreds of strangers are ‘using’ you now, too. Don’t you feel even a little pitiful? Still no? “

The slug fragment beside him twitched faintly, its soft, toneless voice carrying directly into his mind.

“It is not me you’re all drawing on. It is only Lady Tsunade’s stored reserves. I merely… transfer them through my properties.”

Ryusei chuckled. “Transfer, battery, same difference. Don’t sulk. You’ve been following me around for months now. You can’t expect me not to get attached.”

Silence. Typical of Katsuyu.

The more Ryusei interacted with her, the more he realized she wasn’t like the other great summons.

The snakes were schemers, the toads were warriors, but the slug… she was different.

She didn’t command a mountain of followers or hold court like some monarch.

Katsuyu was the monarch, the sage, the origin, and she preferred to simply mind her own business, dissolving into the world quietly.

An introvert by nature.

Which only made teasing her more fun.

“You’re a terrible conversationalist, you know that? Always so careful, so dry. Slugs really are natural loners, huh?”

The slug fragment pulsed faintly, no outward reaction.

Yet he could sense the faint ripple of acknowledgment, as if she accepted his words without denying them.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I even asked you once about Sage Mode, soon after we met, remember? The snakes and toads both have it. But you told me flat-out you don’t. Somehow, I don’t buy that, sorry.”

Katsuyu’s reply was as calm as ever. “I do not. Not in the way you imagine it. My existence is not like theirs.”

Ryusei’s grin widened. “That’s a careful dodge. The way you said it makes me think you’re lying through those feelers of yours.”

“What’s the truth? That you’re the Sage itself? No army, no lackeys… just you, sitting alone for who knows how many centuries?”

No answer. Just the quiet, patient hum of chakra transfer. Ryusei laughed softly.

He’d even asked about her past with Tsunade once.

How they’d first met, how their bond had been formed.

But the slug had clammed up completely.

He suspected Tsunade herself had forbidden her from speaking on it, as well as on the Sage Mode, which only made his curiosity burn hotter.

“You know,” Ryusei mused aloud now, as his chakra swelled back to its peak,

“I might just take out a contract with you myself someday. Be your summoner too.”

That earned the faintest pause in the steady flow of chakra.

For a moment, he swore the slug’s voice carried something resembling interest.

“Such matters are not so easily decided. The bond of summoning is not a game. It must be accepted… mutually.”

Ryusei’s grin sharpened, his slit eyes gleaming. “So you didn’t say no. Interesting.”

The slug went silent again.

But Ryusei could feel it, some flicker of attention, faint but undeniable.

For all her passivity, Katsuyu wasn’t indifferent.

She was simply used to being overlooked, existing quietly.

The more Ryusei teased her, the more he realized she wasn’t some tool to be dismissed.

She was a powerful presence all her own, strange and solitary.

And he found himself more curious about her every time they spoke.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep