Ryusei answered with his usual narrow-eyed look, though this time there was steel in it.

“That sector’s already stabilized. I helped turn the tide there. It’ll hold. But looking at the state of this battlefield, it won’t last if things keep going like this. If we want a decisive victory, someone has to take a risk. I’m going after their commander.”

Okabe squinted, studying him. Just now, he had deliberately again thrown Ryusei into the most dangerous small skirmish for Konoha, expecting him to be torn apart.

By Root’s reports, someone of “low jōnin” strength shouldn’t have been able to break out of that slaughter, much less swing the fight in Konoha’s favor.

But here Ryusei was, alive, stronger, and apparently aiming higher. That meant only one thing: the boy had been hiding his true strength, and now he’d revealed it.

For Okabe, that realization stung. It meant Ryusei had just surprised him, outgrown the box he’d been shoved into.

Okabe felt his chest tighten with anger. If he’d been put in the same position Ryusei just survived, even he might not have escaped unscathed.

This was why he already thought that Ryusei surpassed him and had entered a high jonin level, perhaps.

But alongside the anger came calculation. He made a mental note to report everything directly to the Hokage.

Ryusei’s hidden growth would not go unnoticed.

Yet, the thought of him charging straight into the enemy commander drew out something like grim amusement.

What idiot tries to throw themselves at a top-tier commander head-on? That was a death sentence.

So Okabe’s tone softened, almost encouraging, though it carried a mocking undercurrent. “If that’s your decision… then make it count.”

Ryusei gave a small nod, no more than his usual calm acknowledgment, and turned away, slipping back into the chaos.

Ryusei eventually cut through the chaos and found Renjiro locked in with three enemies at once. Renjiro’s tanto flashed with lightning, his movements sharp but stretched thin, unable to close in as their formation kept forcing him back.

When Ryusei suddenly appeared at his side, Renjiro glanced at him in surprise. “Where the hell were you?”

Ryusei smirked, narrowed eyes gleaming. “Not much time to explain. If you trust me, and if you’re hungry for a big fish, follow me.”

One of the enemy chūnin barked a laugh. “You brats? Big fish? You’ll be corpses before the hour’s over.”

Ryusei tilted his head and shot back dryly, “Strange words coming from a man who’s about to be fileted.”

Renjiro’s lips twitched despite himself. “Hn. Fine. Let’s gut them first.”

Together they surged forward. Renjiro’s shadow clones burst from the ground, trying to collapse the enemy formation, but the Kusagakure squad scattered and cut them down before he could close in.

That was when Ryusei slipped past, faster than even Renjiro could track.

His Lightning Body Flicker, now fully mastered, combined with the First Gate, turned him into a blur.

Renjiro blinked once, registering the sudden shift. “He’s even faster than just earlier… Did he master it…”

Freed from having to break their line himself, Renjiro returned to his own ruthless Hatake style, erasing his presence mid-swing, unpredictable footwork, tanto strikes guided by lightning chakra flow, his blade honed through precision shape transformation until each cut threatened to sever tendons.

Ryusei, meanwhile, revealed a new style he’d forged in this very crucible. Thanks to the First Gate amplifying his body and his complete mastery of Lightning Body Flicker, he moved like a beast let loose, every step a sudden blur, every strike heavy and raw.

Wolf Fang Style.

His limbs whipped out in claw-like arcs, heavy kicks breaking guard, chakra-charged palms crashing against joints and weak points with violent precision. It was brutal and fast, overwhelming before the enemy could think.

And then he unveiled a technique that made Renjiro’s eyes widen.

“Shatter Palm.”

Chakra condensed in Ryusei’s strikes, not refined like Gentle Fist, but bludgeoning.

When his palm slammed against an enemy’s shoulder, the force overloaded the joint. Bone cracked, and the man dropped his weapon with a strangled cry.

Renjiro gave a low whistle as he cut another down beside him. “What the hell did you cook up now? A more brutal version of Gentle Fist? Crude… but it works.”

Ryusei only grinned, mad-eyed, blood dripping from a nick on his cheek where one enemy had managed to tag him. “Call it what you want. It’s faster to break them than seal them.”

Renjiro snorted. “You’re insane.”

And Ryusei proved it, because despite being clipped a few times by counters—small cuts and bruises stacking, he just kept smiling like a man possessed.

Every time his body screamed, Yang Palm knit him back together.

The damage never lasted. Instead of slowing, he seemed to grow sharper, stronger, as if pain only carved the style deeper into him.

Renjiro saw it, the way Ryusei honed himself mid-battle, refining moves on the spot.

Constantly evolving, pushing forward. He gritted his teeth. “Tch… if I don’t keep up, he’ll leave me behind for good.”

After a few more minutes of coordinated strikes, Ryusei and Renjiro cut down the last of their opponents.

The air was thick with smoke and the metallic stench of blood, but neither slowed.

They moved forward through the battlefield, side by side.

Renjiro finally broke the silence, panting lightly. “Alright, Ryusei. You gonna tell me where the hell we’re heading now?”

Ryusei kept his narrow-eyed smile, tone almost casual. “Simple. We’re going to kill the enemy commander.”

Renjiro faltered for a step. “…The commander? You’ve lost it.”

Ryusei glanced at him and smirked. “What’s the matter? Scared?”

Renjiro clicked his tongue, glaring at him but unable to shake the challenge. “…Tch. Fine. I’ll follow your madness. Just don’t cry when I outshine you.”

Ryusei chuckled, then added smoothly, “But before that, we’re picking up Kanae.”

Renjiro shot him a sharp look. “Kanae? Why drag her into this? She’s strong, but against a commander—”

“She’s the only other one I can trust right now,” Ryusei interrupted, voice light but firm. “And even if she’s still a bit behind us, I’ve got another present for her.”

Renjiro raised a brow. “Present? What are you talking about?”

Ryusei only smirked wider, deliberately vague. “You wouldn’t understand anyway.”

Renjiro stared at him, speechless for a beat, then groaned. “You’re insane. First the commander, now this… tch, whatever. Just don’t drag me into your mess with her.”

Ryusei’s grin didn’t fade as they cut through the chaos toward Kanae’s position, which was not far from where Renjiro had been fighting earlier.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep