CHAPTER 191: THE OLD FOX'S AMBUSH
Tsuchikage Onoki's intervention in the battle caught every single ninja on the field completely off guard.
Even Onihei, the Tsuchikage's own assistant, hadn't known. Wasn't the Tsuchikage supposed to be guarding the village far behind the lines? This wasn't like that foolish young Third Kazekage, who had committed an entire village's forces and then personally rushed to the front lines like some reckless genin.
"..."
Onihei's eyes went blank. He didn't know whether to feel happy or sad, relieved or terrified. The war had just taken another impossible turn. Could it really be played like this?
Rakshasa had become a god in a single battle. He had destroyed the combined forces of two villages, killed a Jinchuriki and his tailed beast, and crushed the Third Kazekage into near-death. This level of combat power was unparalleled in the world—unmatched by anyone alive!
The ending had seemed so clear.
But who could have predicted that while the mantis stalked the cicada, the oriole waited behind?
Tsuchikage Onoki—that bad old man who looked like a dwarf—had actually played the role of the oriole perfectly. And he had done it with no warning whatsoever.
The timing was perfect. Rakshasa's physical strength was almost exhausted, his combat power reduced to a fraction of its peak. His Great Buddha form had faded. His flames had dimmed.
Then the Dust Release descended. Perfect aim, no blind spots, caught completely off guard.
Dust Release. The bloodline elimination that claimed it could annihilate all matter. The fusion of three chakra natures—Earth, Wind, Fire—into something beyond normal comprehension. Only Iwagakure possessed this ultimate technique. Every other village only had bloodline limits, the mere fusion of two elements.
Was Rakshasa really dead this time?
Onihei stared at the center of the Dust Release, that four-cornered square of crystalline light. Rakshasa's figure was gradually being swallowed by the white radiance, consumed from the edges inward. There seemed no possibility of survival.
This... there was no reason he wouldn't die.
It was like a sword through the chest, piercing the heart itself. Could anyone survive that?
"ONOKI!"
"YOU COWARD!"
Even the famously gentle Hatake Sakumo lost control of his temper. Foul language erupted from the White Fang's mouth—something his comrades had never heard in all their years. For a dignified Tsuchikage to attack from behind like this... it was shameful beyond words.
Ragnar's strength had grown so fast, so impossibly fast, that it frightened even some in Konoha. But he was still a member of the village. The Third Hokage's gentle nature would never have persecuted him. Under Hiruzen's protection, Ragnar could have lived a normal life, experienced a完整的 childhood, and truly taken root in Konoha's family.
Sakumo understood Ragnar's character. The boy wasn't interested in fame or fortune. He was simply a training maniac—a pure ninja in every sense of the word.
But now, under Dust Release, even Ragnar might not survive. And with the Third Tsuchikage himself personally executing the technique? The survival rate was practically zero.
The other Konoha ninja watched in frozen shock, unable to speak.
They seemed paralyzed, as if witnessing the destruction of a myth they had just seen born.
"Damn it!"
"Shameless bastard!" Jiraiya's voice cracked with fury.
"Ragnar..." Tsunade knew that cursing wouldn't solve anything. She could only pray silently in her heart. Please, just create another miracle. Like you always do.
But if something happened to Ragnar, Tsunade would make sure the Iwa Ninja village knew no peace for the rest of its existence. As the current princess of the Senju clan, she had the power to make that promise real. And she meant every word of it.
"Hmph."
Onoki's voice floated down from above, carrying cold disdain.
"This is war. There is nothing shameful or shameless about it."
He hovered in the air, his small form somehow seeming massive against the sky.
"As ninja, don't you have any awareness of what that means? If you can't accept reality, then why fight at all?"
The truth was, Onoki had arrived on the battlefield long ago. He had watched everything from hiding. He witnessed Rakshasa defeat the Third Kazekage. He saw the Great Buddha suppress the tailed beast. He observed the Jinchuriki's death with his own eyes.
And what he saw terrified him.
This boy's strength... could it be that Senju Hashirama had been reincarnated?
The power Rakshasa displayed shook Onoki to his core. It made him feel something he hadn't felt in decades—genuine fear. And that fear crystallized into absolute certainty: this boy could not be allowed to survive.
So he waited. He watched. He calculated.
And when the perfect moment for a sneak attack finally arrived, he took it without hesitation.
Was a sneak attack glorious? No. But if it meant victory, what did glory matter?
History was written by the victors. The dead had no voice, no stories, no legacy. They were quickly crushed by the torrent of time and forgotten.
The God of Ninja, Hashirama—forgotten by most. Uchiha Madara—remembered only as a villain and a failure. The current Rakshasa would not escape this fate.
On the mountaintop—
"This Onoki boy is truly cunning," Madara observed, his ancient voice carrying a hint of dark amusement. "I remember when he was just a trembling, fearful grandson groveling at my Uchiha feet."
Black Zetsu studied the scene below. "Rakshasa is in grave danger, Madara-sama."
"If he cannot survive a mere Dust Release, then it proves my judgment of him was wrong." Madara's tone remained calm, indifferent.
But even as he spoke the words, he knew he was performing. Maintaining the facade of absolute detachment was necessary. He had to project the mentality that everything and everyone was beneath his notice.
Yet in his heart, even Madara felt uncertainty.
Dust Release was not to be underestimated. Old Man Onoki's grandson still had some tricks. In the original timeline—Madara knew this from what Black Zetsu had shared—the Five Kage had fought against him. Onoki had used Dust Release to break through his Wood Release: Deep Forest Emergence. Even his Susano'o had been threatened by that power.
Dust Release could cut through anything. It could annihilate anything. It transcended the normal boundaries of ninjutsu entirely.
SNAP!
Onoki brought his hands together, and the quadrilateral crystal of Dust Release began to compress.
Within its range, everything was filled with dazzling white light. The compression intensified, the light growing brighter, more intense, more absolute.
When the true power of Dust Release erupted, there were no earth-shaking explosions. No roaring reverberations echoed across the battlefield.
Instead, all the light in the world seemed to converge on that single point. It was like the rising sun after a snowfall—beautiful, pure, and utterly deadly.
BUZZ—!!!
At the center of the battlefield, Dust Release exploded to its absolute极限. It was as if an extremely dazzling sun had been born in that space. As if a bright star had completely detonated at ground zero.
Countless eyes watched with horror and shock. Then the white light struck them, stinging their retinas, forcing them to close their eyes. No one could look directly at that radiance.
In that moment, the white light seemed to replace everything. It became the only thing in this world. The entire battlefield fell into a momentary stillness, as if time itself had paused.
The Land of Rain was always shrouded in dark clouds and drizzle. Its people almost never saw the sun.
But at this moment, white light illuminated the earth. It reached the sky. Ordinary people in distant small towns looked up in wonder. Ninja in faraway Amegakure turned their heads toward the glow.
The power of bloodline elimination had fully bloomed, revealing its true light to the world.
Inside the center of Dust Release, where matter itself was being unmade—
A whisper of life spread outward:
"Indestructible Golden Body."
The next moment—
Dust Release's annihilation expanded for miles. When the light finally faded, nothing remained in that zone. No grass. No earth. No stone. No trace of anything that had existed there before.
In its place: a massive sinkhole, carved into the very bedrock of the Land of Rain.
This was power on the level of a Tailed Beast Bomb. Perhaps greater.
Every Kage was truly a peak-level existence. Their strength was always abnormal.
In the air above, Onoki folded his arms across his chest. His expression was indifferent as he looked down upon the destruction below.
Hmph. Dust Release takes action, and I have the world.
Even if Senju Hashirama himself were resurrected, I would annihilate him before your eyes.
(End of Chapter)
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