Meanwhile, not far from Danzo’s position, Nagato also seemed to sense that something had gone wrong.

His eyes, dimmed with grief and strain, snapped toward the sudden flare of chakra coming from the nearby ridge.

The four coffins had cracked open.

The air thickened as the Edo Tensei bodies stirred to life, Sasuke Sarutobi, Kagami, Izuna, Mito, four dead legends breathing once again under Danzo’s control.

But before they could even move, the enormous spectral dragon, its body woven from the very essence of souls, swept across the battlefield with terrifying speed.

Its hollow roar echoed through the rain as its purple form spiraled toward them, the remnants of Hanzo and Danzo’s combined army vanishing like candles in a storm.

Every shinobi it touched collapsed lifelessly, their souls ripped clean from their bodies in an instant.

Hanzo’s face drained of color. He cursed Danzo silently and his unpredictable behaviour, realizing their soldiers were finished, while they lost the chance to create a diversion to escape.

He had no idea what was happening, what that jutsu was, or why the four new Danzo’s “reinforcements” stood frozen for so many seconds.

Danzo, however, analyzed everything in those seconds, as he prepared them for an attack.

It was, after all, his first time officially using this jutsu in battle.

His eyes narrowed as he watched the dragon tear through the ranks, removing every last one of them eventually.

It wasn’t physical, no substance, no chakra body even, nothing tangible to counterattack.

It was like a larger soul mass attacking smaller souls.

It was a one-hit instant kill.

One of the strongest techniques Danzo ever saw in the shinobi world.

‘So, this is the legendary eyes of the Sage…’

It could only be dodged.

And with its speed, that meant death for nearly everyone.

Almost everyone.

Danzo and Hanzo barely escaped, leaping aside just as the dragon crashed through where they had stood moments ago.

The four Edo Tensei weren’t so lucky; they were hit head-on, just as they opened their eyes initially and were ready to be used promptly, their souls and bodies disintegrating in a flash of spectral light too.

However, then, as the dragon moved on from them, they began to re-form, reassembling from dust and ash, eyes snapping open again, alive and ready.

Danzo smirked.

Of course. Edo Tensei was built to loop endlessly.

Danzo felt very fortunate.

The dragon didn’t seal or “eat” souls inside itself, it seemed; it just ‘purified’ them, sent them back to the Pure Land instead.

And the Edo Tensei’s anchor was exactly that, the constant pull between body and soul.

They’d simply been recalled again.

The perfect counter.

He let out a low, dark laugh.

“You’ve chosen the wrong opponent, boy. Even gods can’t kill what’s already dead.”

He could see Nagato weakening.

The red-haired boy’s frame was visibly thinner now, his skin paling by the second, those distinct black chakra rods pulsing like veins siphoning him dry.

His chakra output was incredible but unsustainable.

Danzo’s mind raced. “He’s burning through everything. That thing’s draining him alive.”

Ignoring Hanzo completely, he refocused his command and advanced with his undead squad, determined to crush the Uzumaki and take those eyes before the boy could destroy them out of desperation.

Wind chakra surged from his palms, razor-edged blasts slicing through the air. “Wind Release: Vacuum Serial Waves!”

Sasuke Sarutobi moved next, blue flames spiraling around his hands before exploding outward in a storm of incinerating heat.

It was that rare advanced form of Fire Release, blue fire, unique to the most gifted of the Sarutobi line.

Kagami, his own former teammate, followed, his own signature jutsu flames burning violet, half chakra, half emotion, fire blended with Yin Release, scorching both body and mind.

The ground twisted under the intensity as his attacks joined Sasuke’s, overlapping in perfect synchrony.

Behind them, Mito Uzumaki’s hands flashed through seals, and her adamantine chains burst from the earth, glowing gold as they whipped toward Nagato like divine spears.

Izuna’s Susanoo followed a heartbeat later, erupting in a pinkish aura that lit up the entire hill.

Its massive blade slammed downward, sending shockwaves through the soaked terrain.

The combined assault shook the valley.

Nagato’s Rinnegan eyes shifted rapidly as he responded with bursts of gravitational force, pushing away some attacks instinctively, barely deflecting others.

But the cost was obvious. His breathing faltered, his movements slower each time.

The statue behind him pulsed violently, drawing more and more chakra through the rods embedded in his spine.

Danzo watched the boy’s weakening body with cold satisfaction. “He won’t last much longer. Every second drains him closer to death. And when he falls, the Rinnegan will be mine.”

He advanced carefully now, keeping distance but closing the gap with measured precision.

He wanted those eyes intact. He wanted them alive.

He didn’t even need to use his Izanagi yet.

Meanwhile, amid the chaos, Nagato’s desperation peaked.

His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, his body trembling as the chakra rods pulsed faster along his back.

The world blurred before his eyes, faces, rain, corpses, and all that remained was the hollow weight of loss.

“Why did it have to end like this? Why is everything in this world built to hurt?”

His voice cracked under the strain. “We wanted peace… and they gave us this?”

The despair in his words wasn’t just grief; it was the collapse of everything he’d ever believed.

Konan could barely watch him. Her hands trembled, her eyes wide with horror.

The statue, the spectral dragon, the black rods piercing Nagato’s spine, his skeletal frame draining away with every pulse, it was all wrong.

She knew his eyes were special, powerful, ancient in ways she couldn’t explain, but she had never seen them devour him like this.

Back when they were younger, those eyes had flared to life only in moments of danger, usually when Nagato’s emotions exploded, rage, fear, desperation, even then, they always left him pale and shaking for a long time afterward.

But this was something else entirely.

The sheer output, the size of the statue, the way his soul seemed to flicker with each passing second, his body physically getting fragile, it terrified her more than the enemy closing in.

“Stop, Nagato—please. You’ll kill yourself if you keep doing this. Yahiko wouldn’t have wanted it. We can still run, leave, live,” Konan cried, voice breaking as she reached for him. He didn’t answer.

He just kept staring ahead, tears mixing with the rain as his power tore the battlefield apart.

Danzo, meanwhile, saw only opportunity. His pulse quickened with excitement as he sensed the boy’s weakening chakra.

He moved with precision, directing his Edo Tensei like a general commanding an army, tightening the noose with mechanical calm.

Each second, each strike, brought him closer to his goal.

Then, without warning, something erupted from the ground beneath him.

A mass of tree roots, slick with moisture and chakra, tore through the mud, wrapping around his legs before he could react.

At the same time, a black organic mass, like a net of tar mixed with flesh, spread in all directions, and a cloud of white spores burst around him, clinging to his skin and armor.

Danzo cursed, spinning sharply. “What—!?”

He sensed it then: a second chakra signature, alien yet familiar, right beside Nagato. It wasn’t from Konan.

It wasn’t from the Gedo Statue either.

“Who the hell is that? No… I can’t lose sight of the Rinnegan, not for even a heartbeat!”

He flared his chakra violently, forcing partial Wood Release from his arm.

Roots exploded outward from his own body, tearing through the ground and scattering the spores.

The air filled with the sharp scent of resin and blood.

“Baku!” he barked.

The monstrous elephantine beast appeared in a swirl of smoke, its vacuum-like roar pulling in the spreading black tendrils.

Danzo used the recoil from the suction to leap clear, forming quick seals mid-air. “Wind Release: Vacuum Great Sphere!”

A massive burst of compressed air detonated, clearing his surroundings and propelling him straight toward Nagato’s location.

As the smoke cleared, he saw them, Nagato and Konan, both on their last legs.

But they weren’t alone.

Two masked figures stood beside them, cloaked in black, faces hidden beneath ceramic masks.

One of them, the taller one, was whispering something directly into Nagato’s ear.

The other figure, Danzo realized, was the same one who had launched those earlier attacks, yet he was already standing there, impossibly fast, as if space itself had bent to his will.

His chakra felt wrong, unnerving, layered in a way Danzo couldn’t comprehend, part human, part something entirely different, also as though two existences overlapped within one body.

Danzo froze. He couldn’t hear what was said, but he didn’t need to.

Nagato’s eyes widened instantly, and his trembling hand moved into a seal.

The Gedo Statue vanished in a heartbeat.

Danzo’s stomach dropped.

“No. No, stop! Who are you?!” he shouted, his voice sharp with fear and anger.

The masked figure turned toward him but didn’t answer.

Danzo’s instincts screamed danger.

He quickly gave mental orders, “Mito, barrier! Now! Izuna, full manifestation!”

Mito’s chains shot outward, glowing gold as they weaved a dome of pure blue barrier energy around them next.

From the opposite side, Izuna’s Susanoo rose to full height, its magenta armor gleaming under the rain, its blade pulsing with Yin energy so dense it cut through the air like a mirage.

Every swing could slice through matter and mind alike.

For a moment, the barrier held, and Danzo exhaled, regaining some composure.

His voice, however, shook with fury.

“You think you can walk in here and ruin my plans? You’ll regret ever setting foot on this battlefield!”

That was when the taller masked man finally spoke.

“Quite the grotesque sight, that arm of yours,” the voice said, low and calm, carrying through the rain with a strange mixture of mockery and curiosity.

“A collection of stolen eyes, grafted onto your own flesh. Tell me, does the Uchiha clan know what you’ve done with their legacy?”

Danzo stiffened.

The man continued, his tone almost playful.

“You even know about Izanagi… and you’ve already activated it just now secretly, haven’t you? How bold. I wonder, did you learn it by torturing one of them? Or did you desecrate their graves yourself?”

Danzo’s grip on his cane tightened. “You—”

“Ah, no need to explain,” the voice cut him off, amused.

“You’ve already failed today, and you don’t even realize why. Because men like you, trapped in the mud of their own ambition, will never see the world as it truly is. You’re still a frog at the bottom of a well, Danzo Shimura, dreaming of the sky.”

The rain fell harder.

For a second, Danzo thought he saw a faint red glow behind the one eye spot on that mask—like a Sharingan watching him.

Then the man’s voice dropped lower, colder.

“Goodbye, Danzo Shimura. You were never worth my time.”

Space twisted.

A vortex of spiraling energy enveloped the masked man, the smaller one beside him, and the battered figures of Konan and Nagato.

The air warped as they disappeared—swallowed whole by nothingness.

Danzo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “No… what—what is that jutsu?!”

He lunged forward, grasping at empty air as the last trace of the vortex vanished.

There was nothing left. No chakra trail. No residual signature. Just silence.

He stood there, shaking. Then his rage erupted.

“No! The Rinnegan was mine! Mine!” His voice cracked as it echoed through the dead clearing. “How—how is there a jutsu in this world that does that?! Where did he go!?”

His Edo Tensei stood motionless around him as he screamed, the rain beating against his face.

When his fury finally dimmed, he turned slowly toward Hanzo, who still stood frozen a few dozen meters away.

“What are you staring at, coward?!” Danzo roared, his voice raw.

“If you hadn’t hesitated, if you’d acted when I signaled, then perhaps the Rinnegan would be ours! What use are you now?!”

Hanzo’s jaw tightened, hand twitching toward his weapon, but he stopped.

The sight of Danzo’s undead army, still intact and standing, made his next move clear.

He lowered his hand.

“I’ll… I’ll issue a search order immediately,” Hanzo said at last, voice stiff.

“We’ll find them across the Land of Rain, Danzo. I swear it.”

Danzo snorted, waving dismissively.

“You’d better. From now on, you deal with me directly, not Konoha’s Hokage. Consider this your punishment.”

Hanzo clenched his fists but bowed his head. “Understood.”

The rain kept falling, muffling the world in a heavy, gray silence.

Danzo stood unmoving in the mud, surrounded by corpses, staring at the place where the vortex had vanished.

The sound of it still echoed in his head, the rush of warped air, the mocking and dismissive tone and words of that masked man, and what he swore was the faint pulse of a Sharingan.

“The Rinnegan,” he muttered, voice raw and low.

“That Uzumaki… that man… I’ll find them. I’ll find them all.”

His breath came unevenly, fury simmering beneath the surface.

The truth clawed at him; he’d been outplayed.

His perfect path to power, the one that would have cemented his dominance over the shinobi world, had been shattered by a jutsu he couldn’t anticipate or counter.

He paced in tight circles, whispering curses, that mocking farewell replaying in his mind until it became unbearable.

Each memory fanned the fire in his chest, turning humiliation into obsession.

When the rage finally dulled, what remained was the weight of loss and the realization of what had slipped through his grasp.

His thoughts returned to the masked man, to that spiraling void that consumed everything.

Space-time jutsu on the level of Minato’s Flying Raijin. Impossible.

‘Who was he? How could anyone wield that kind of power? And that chakra… it felt like Mangekyō Sharingan.’

The idea unsettled him to his core.

Someone outside the Uchiha clan possessing both Sharingan and Rinnegan.

It overturned every certainty he’d built his life around recently.

For the first time in years, Danzo felt the faint edge of fear.

The world was shifting beyond his control.

He took a slow breath, forcing calm back into his voice.

“No matter,” he whispered, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll find them… and reclaim what’s mine.”

Then he turned and began walking through the rain, Edo Tensei shadows trailing silently behind him, his figure fading into the storm, anger, fear, and ambition blending into one.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep