Ryusei’s clone wasn’t nearly as durable as the main body, so he couldn’t go all out.

Pushing his limits too far risked overloading the chakra balance and causing the clone to dissolve at the worst possible moment.

Even so, his physical speed still remained overwhelming.

The palace corridors blurred around him as he closed in on the Daimyo’s quarters.

But just as he reached the door, his senses flared—someone else was there.

Not Hiruzen, but an ANBU, from among the ones who accompanied him this time.

Young. Fast. Skilled.

Before Ryusei’s hand could even touch the sliding door, a shadow on the wall rippled unnaturally.

From it, a masked figure stepped out—Nara Hisamichi.

In that split-second, Ryusei’s eyes narrowed. “Tch—”

The clone lunged forward, palm already glowing with chakra, but Hisamichi vanished again, melting straight into the floor’s shadow.

His sudden movement distorted the light in the corridor, and in the next instant, he reappeared inside the Daimyo’s room.

“Move!” Hisamichi shouted, grabbing the terrified ruler by the arm.

Shadows pooled beneath his feet like ink, and both he and the Daimyo sank into the darkness just as Ryusei’s strike tore through the doorway, splitting the floor in half.

The clone stepped in, scanning fast, chakra spreading through the room like a radar wave—but Hisamichi had already reemerged several meters back, the Daimyo clutched securely against him.

His breathing was calm, his stance perfect.

The technique Hisamichi used was one of the Nara clan’s most closely guarded secrets—one that only he had ever mastered since the village’s founding.

Blessed with exceptional Yin Release control and a rare affinity for spatial jutsu formulas, he had perfected the Hidden Jutsu: Shadow Rift Step, a fusion of the clan’s shadow manipulation arts and advanced space–time ninjutsu.

It allowed the user to sink into any nearby shadow and reappear from another within range, effectively turning darkness itself into a network of gateways.

For a brief moment, the user’s body existed in a thin layer between dimensions, a “shadow realm” where ordinary attacks couldn’t reach.

The jutsu’s weakness lay in its range; shadows grew unstable the farther they stretched, limiting movement to a localized field.

But within that field, the user was nearly untouchable, able to evade, reposition, or strike from any direction in an instant.

This was one of the things that made him so trusted by the Sarutobi father and son and the youngest captain in Anbu’s history so far.

“What—space–time?” Ryusei muttered, recognizing the afterimage of the technique.

From the flicker of his chakra, he understood instantly—shadow manipulation fused with teleportation.

Impossible mobility within a limited range.

He was a bit surprised that there was a Nara who could wield a technique like this in the village currently.

Before he could attack again, Ryusei felt several more signatures approaching rapidly from behind.

Hiruzen. Enma. The others were near too.

They materialized in sequence, forming a tight semicircle around Hisamichi and the Daimyo.

Hisamichi straightened, nodding once toward Hiruzen. “Target secured, Hokage-sama.”

Ryusei clicked his tongue softly, his expression darkening as his slit-eyed glare swept across them all.

“So… you finally crawl out from the shadows.”

At the same time, Ryusei’s sensory net flared again.

Pakura was already engaged in battle nearby, her chakra burning hot and wild.

The signatures she clashed with were all too familiar: those same two ROOT operatives, the annoying Aburame and the brash young Inuzuka, who were among the very ones who had once tried to kill him on the Kumo front at that time.

On another side, his uncle Kazuo’s chakra spiked as well, pressed hard by another ANBU, in his early to mid twenties, fast and disciplined.

The battlefield inside the palace was spreading fast.

And in the center of it all, Ryusei’s clone finally came face to face with Hiruzen Sarutobi.

The old man stood in full battle gear, staff of Enma in hand, his expression calm and resolute.

The air between them was heavy, filled with the weight of everything unspoken.

For the first time, there were no masks, no polite smiles, no polite tone, no pretending.

Hiruzen wasn’t the great elder now, not the wise guardian of the village; he was simply a man who had decided his enemy must die.

And Ryusei was no longer the polite, deferential boy who had once stood before him in the Hokage’s office, before that “mission” to the Grass Country.

No more pretense. No more titles, formalities, or the act of elder and junior.

Only the truth between the two greatest enemies.

“You really went this far yourself,” Ryusei said, his grin sharp and mocking, though his chakra pulsed like a blade beneath it.

“The great Hiruzen Sarutobi—playing executioner himself now. Tell me, old man, do you regret it? Not dealing with me, in your full capacity, like this, directly earlier, when you still had the chance? Letting me reach the point where even you can’t sleep because of me?”

Hiruzen’s eyes didn’t waver. There was no anger in them—only a deep, weary resolve.

“I do regret it,” he said simply. “But one boy, no matter how cunning or treacherous, can’t overturn an entire village. You may think you’ve surpassed me, but your real body… It’s already dying as we speak. In another part of the world right now.”

Ryusei’s grin faded. His expression sharpened, his eyes narrowing.

He didn’t believe him, but the calm in Hiruzen’s voice forced him to get serious as well.

He knew that the moment the Daimyo was taken, the objective had narrowed further.

The priority now was clear: at least get Kazuo and Pakura out alive.

Even with this clone’s weakened body, he had to make it happen.

His chakra reserves had been replenished moments earlier through the slug, but they were still nowhere near the main body’s level.

As Hiruzen and Hisamichi lunged forward to cut off his path, Ryusei’s hands blurred through a rapid series of seals.

First, he summoned two additional shadow clones.

Sparks and heat rippled through the corridor as they all exhaled sharply then.

“Thunderfire Smog Cloak!”

Fire and wind fused together first, blooming into a scorching wave of smoke that filled the hall.

Then came the crackle of lightning, threading through the haze like veins of light.

The charged vapor expanded violently, filling every inch of the palace wing with sizzling energy.

The air shimmered with heat, the entire area wrapped in a volatile, blinding smog that burned the skin and numbed the senses.

It was one of his new, three-elemental combination fusion jutsu.

He dissolved the clones right away.

However, dozens of Fūma shuriken then suddenly tore through the smoke from ahead—so many that the air seemed to scream.

Hiruzen had already countered.

His voice cut through the roar of crackling lightning.

“Shuriken Shadow Clone Jutsu!”

Tens or even hundreds of spinning blades multiplied midair, each as solid as the original, sweeping in from all directions like a storm of steel.

Ryusei’s eyes flashed. “Not bad—for a relic.”

He slammed his palms down, chakra pulsing beneath the marble floor.

“Crystal Flare Storm!”

The tiles beneath him ruptured as molten shards of crystallized earth erupted outward.

Fire release superheated them to a red glow, and lightning crackled over their surface.

The crystal flares burst outward in waves, detonating midair.

Each explosion shattered Hiruzen’s cloned shuriken, filling the corridor with fire, smoke, and static bursts.

The resulting chaos broke the line of shadows Hisamichi had already extended toward him, scattering their path and forcing the ANBU to retreat back into cover.

Ryusei moved instantly, slipping through the blast cloud toward the western wing—where he sensed Kazuo’s chakra flickering.

But Hisamichi wasn’t done.

From the smoke, he emerged again, shadows writhing beneath his feet like liquid tar.

He moved unnaturally fast, closing the distance by merging into every available patch of darkness.

In his right hand, his kunai gleamed with a concentrated black aura—a focused Yin Release channel that twisted the air around it like a vortex.

At the same time, Hiruzen and one of his clones finished weaving hand signs, combining elemental releases in perfect synchronicity.

“Typhoon Water Vortex Technique!”

A violent surge of wind and water erupted ahead, spiraling together into a roaring cyclone that tore through the palace hall.

Steam and mist exploded outward, devouring the heat and scattering the electric haze Ryusei had created earlier.

The wind barrier spun like a miniature hurricane, stripping away visibility once more.

Hiruzen’s voice carried through the storm, calm and unshaken. “You can’t run forever.”

He followed immediately with another attack.

Compressed air bullets tore through the mist, ripping apart walls and pillars.

Then, with a stomp, he raised an enormous barrier between them.

“Earth Release: Earth-Style Wall!”

A massive slab of stone burst upward, cutting Ryusei off from the rest of the hall.

But Ryusei didn’t slow down.

Chakra surged around his body, coating his limbs like a storm.

With one strike, he shattered the earthen wall completely, debris exploding in every direction.

“Too slow.”

He unleashed twin bursts of chakra, Water Release and Wind Release, combining in front of him into a twisting shield of air and liquid pressure.

It absorbed the vacuum bullets, then burst outward violently, clearing a path straight through the mist.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep