CHAPTER 194: TWO PILLARS SIDE BY SIDE
"Onoki! Your opponent now is Konoha's White Fang! Don't be too arrogant!"
Hatake Sakumo raised his head, his gaze calmly fixed on the Third Tsuchikage hovering above. His posture was neither humble nor arrogant—neither bowing nor challenging beyond necessity. His aura, while not as overwhelmingly powerful as the Tsuchikage's, was restrained and hidden. A blade kept carefully in its sheath. But everyone knew: once that blade was drawn, it would shake heaven and earth.
"And I," Ragnar added, his voice cutting through the air like steel, "am Konoha's Rakshasa."
Hearing this, Sakumo glanced back at the boy beside him. He noticed something in that moment—the tenderness and youth that had once lingered on Ragnar's face were completely gone. Long gone. In their place stood perseverance, courage, and absolute fearlessness.
This is what a Konoha ninja should be.
Two people standing side by side. Invincible.
In the eyes of every Konoha ninja watching, this scene detonated the entire battlefield.
"WHITE FANG! RAKSHASA!"
"WHITE FANG! RAKSHASA!"
"WHITE FANG! RAKSHASA!"
The chants began slowly, then built like thunder. Soon the entire battlefield shook with the shouts of Konoha ninja. They were all excited, their wills connecting, their bonds intertwining into something greater than any single fighter.
"Oh... I'm so moved!" Jiraiya covered his eyes, but tears still streamed down his face. This scene—this moment—was truly touching beyond words.
"This is the transition of eras," Orochimaru observed, a rare genuine smile crossing his features. He looked at the two figures standing side by side on the field—two persevering souls back to back against the sky. To witness such a moment was significant. Historic, even.
"Yes," Tsunade agreed softly.
She had never seen her grandfather dominate the ninja world in his prime. That era was before her time, lost to history. But in this moment, watching Ragnar, she understood. This was what it must have been like.
Everyone united. Everyone fighting together against foreign enemies.
No abandonment. No surrender. The Will of Fire burning bright in every heart.
That was how a peaceful, stable ninja world had been built.
Though that world had faded with her grandfather's death, though peace no longer existed... the world moved in cycles. Different times. Different places. Different people. But they were doing the same thing—striving tirelessly toward that great goal, offering their lives with smiles for something greater than themselves.
"Konoha White Fang. Konoha Rakshasa."
Tsuchikage Onoki hovered in the sky, his expression dark and complex. He spoke the names slowly, tasting each syllable with a strange tone.
He looked at the Konoha ninja below—their intense morale, their burning spirits. Then he looked at his own forces. Low wills. Depressed hearts. Broken fighting spirits.
Strength—being weak—was not the real terror.
The real terror was losing the will to fight altogether.
How could a person without fighting spirit, without soul, overcome any difficulty?
You could never wake someone who was pretending to sleep.
What infuriated Onoki most was that he had been this close. His decisive killing blow had been interrupted by Sakumo. He could see that Ragnar was at his absolute limit—chakra drained, physical strength nearly gone. One more Dust Release would certainly take the boy's life!
But that opportunity was slipping away moment by moment.
While Onoki's mind churned with frustration and calculation, Ragnar made no move to attack. He stood silently, letting the little slug's power work through his system, restoring his strength ounce by ounce.
After all, that little glutton had consumed a significant amount of his magical chakra during the battle. Everything in the world followed cause and effect—no natural energy was ever given freely.
And as he recovered, Ragnar's mind worked calmly on a different question.
Why was the Tsuchikage here?
Under normal circumstances, a village's Kage remained in the village. That was their primary duty—command and defense. They were not easily dispatched to front lines.
Once a Kage left, the rear defenses became vulnerable. If another village took the opportunity to raid... wouldn't Iwagakure be destroyed? Even if not completely destroyed, it would be devastated.
The Land of Thunder and the Land of Earth were not directly adjacent, but the distance between them was not insurmountable. The Raikage was famously ambitious—he had never joined the Second Ninja War. If he saw an opening now...
A village's Kage almost never moved out unless another Kage moved first. And even then, a powerful combat force remained behind—ANBU captains, Kage assistants, elite forces.
But on this battlefield right now: the Tsuchikage, the Tsuchikage's assistant, the Jinchuriki—they were all here. Almost the entire leadership of Iwagakure, concentrated in one place.
Was Onoki abandoning his village?!
The Third Kazekage was young and hot-blooded. After suffering such a massive loss, it was somewhat understandable that he would charge to the front personally.
But Onoki? That cunning old fox? He understood these truths better than anyone.
Ragnar glanced at Hatake Sakumo. Their eyes met—and in that instant, their minds connected. They had both reached the same conclusion.
The truth was exactly as Ragnar suspected.
Onoki was gambling. The biggest gamble of his life. His decades of ninja experience had whispered to him that the Second War might see unexpected developments. So he had secretly departed Iwagakure, executing a perfect "golden cicada sheds its shell" strategy.
No one knew. No information leaked.
And the outcome of the war had unfolded almost exactly as he anticipated. One-sided slaughter. The Kazekage defeated. The Iwa forces completely crushed.
But Onoki had been hiding in the darkness, preparing a fatal blow, hoping to reverse the entire war's outcome with a single strike.
A hundred percent winning strategy!
He had even thought: if he had attacked Konoha's White Fang first instead, there would be no White Fang in the ninja world anymore.
But Rakshasa—Ragnar—this singular existence, had shattered all his calculations.
Dust Release had not destroyed him!
Now, three of the ninja world's peak powerhouses stood in confrontation. Ragnar was the youngest among them by decades, yet the killing intent he had developed through countless battles was in no way inferior to the other two. And with Hatake Sakumo's aura叠加 beside him, they actually projected a momentum that slightly exceeded the Tsuchikage's alone!
Onoki's eyes gradually turned cold.
Sakumo was manageable. Strong, yes—but he had nearly reached his peak. There was limited room for further growth.
But Ragnar... Ragnar could not be allowed to remain in this world alongside Sakumo. At his age, at his growth rate—it was too terrifying to contemplate.
"I have walked the ninja world for many years," Onoki spoke slowly, his voice carrying across the entire battlefield. "I have faced every kind of opponent. Even Uchiha Madara—I fought him in my youth. You are merely juniors."
"We are aware of your seniority, Tsuchikage," Sakumo replied calmly. Beneath his polite words, however, hidden sarcasm lurked. "That does not make your actions against Rakshasa any less unreasonable."
The longer you live, the more shameless you become. You have no shame left to spend.
"Fought Uchiha Madara?" Ragnar's voice cut in, sharp with mockery. "I imagine a despicable ninja like you—one who only knows sneak attacks—must have been beaten to tears by Madara back then. Scared out of your wits, I'm sure."
In the original timeline, Ragnar knew, Onoki had indeed faced Madara as a young man. And it had broken him. He hadn't emerged from the village for a long time afterward. He had become autistic, denying himself, refusing to acknowledge his own identity—nearly becoming a complete cripple psychologically.
And now he had the nerve to bring it up? Perhaps he thought that with Madara gone, he could strut around again.
Which was exactly the case. When Onoki heard that Madara was dead, he had celebrated. As if Madara's death meant his personal nightmare was finally over.
"YOU! NONSENSE!"
Onoki's face transformed. It shifted from its normal complexion to something resembling a pig's liver—dark purple mottled with black, twisted with rage.
(End of Chapter)
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