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[NTU] [ARC-20] Chapter : 269
🕑 Added 2025-03-08 07:34:39 +0000 UTCIt was a shame to be bound like this—tied to a battlefield, only to be buried and forgotten.
Even with Toshiro’s help, transforming the surroundings into a treacherous swamp, the situation remained precarious. Among the opposing shinobi, some possessed formidable skills, and let’s not forget—the Three-Tails was still in play.
"All of you… Leave them to me—!"
Shiromari was just about to unleash his fury when—
Whoosh!
A ripple in space distorted the air above its head. In the blink of an eye, a figure in a black cloak and a patterned mask materialized, landing directly on its back.
The intruder wasted no time.
Hands blurred through a rapid sequence of seals.
"Wood Release: Piercing arrows!"
A sharp wooden spear erupted from the figure’s right arm, shooting straight into Toshiro’s chest.
"You dare!"
Shiromari’s roar was a mix of shock and rage. Without hesitation, its massive claws lunged toward the masked attacker, intent on crushing him.
But—
"Damn it… too late!"
A deep, guttural growl rumbled from Shiromari’s throat, his enormous eyes flickering with uncertainty—and a rare trace of panic.
How had the enemy appeared so suddenly?
And worse—would its attack even make a difference?
Then—
Snap!
A sharp, crisp snap echoed through the battlefield.
Obito’s gaze flickered with an as-expected expression as he watched a ring of crimson bones manifest around Toshiro’s body.
He had never been naive enough to assume his dear elder brother would recklessly throw himself into Yagura’s sealed space without any defensive precautions.
Such countermeasures were only natural.
"Wood Release: Tree Binding and Eternal Burial!"
Without missing a beat, Obito shifted his hands into another rapid series of seals. His previous piercing technique had been merely a test—now came the real strike.
Thick wooden tendrils burst forth, twisting and coiling toward Toshiro.
In the entire ninja world, if anyone possessed a true mastery of Wood Release, it was Senju Hashirama. But beyond him, only one other name stood at the pinnacle—Uchiha Madara.
And as Madara’s shadow, Obito had inherited that very legacy.
Against Susanoo, few jutsu could break through its defense—but Wood Release was one of them.
As for the massive claws lunging toward him from behind?
Obito didn’t even bother acknowledging them.
"What’s this?"
Shiromari’s claws swiped through empty air, missing their target entirely.
Before it could even process how the enemy had evaded its attack, a sudden, intense itch spread across its head.
Its eyes widened in shock as an enormous forest of thick, twisting trees sprouted from its skull, coiling around Toshiro like living vines.
The vibrant green canopy flourished, dense and abundant—giving Shiromari the absurd appearance of wearing a giant leafy crown.
"My chakra!"
That wasn’t the worst part.
It could feel its chakra being drained, siphoned away as these trees fed off its energy, growing stronger with every passing second.
A chilling realization struck—it was clear that Toshiro was the primary target of this jutsu.
If the enemy had truly set their sights on it instead, the situation would be far worse.
Suddenly, a deep unease took hold.
"This is… Wood Release!"
The tension wasn’t limited to Shiromari.
Watching from a distance, the Third Hokage, who had been closely monitoring Toshiro’s battle, stiffened. Across from him, Mei, who had been observing with wary amusement, also tensed at the sight.
The battlefield fell silent for a moment—Wood Release had always been an anomaly, a power tied to Senju Hashirama and believed to be nearly extinct.
"Konoha… still holds the secrets of Wood Release, huh?"
Despite the gravity of the situation, Mei Terumi couldn’t resist a wry smirk.
Even now, she found time to taunt her opponent.
Mei Terumi’s expression shifted into something amused yet intrigued as she scrutinized the Third Hokage. A knowing smile curled at the corner of her lips.
"It seems… not everyone in Konoha supports an Uchiha as Hokage."
To her, the situation was beyond fascinating.
A wielder of Wood Release, one of the rarest Kekkei Genkai, had taken advantage of the ongoing battle between the Fifth Hokage and the Fourth Mizukage—launching a sudden ambush on the Hokage himself.
The layers of this conflict ran deep.
Wood Release. Sharingan. The identities of those involved… Just how big was this hidden power struggle?
The mere thought sent a thrill through her veins.
"Third Hokage, do you intend to step in?"
With deliberate ease, Mei shifted her stance, gracefully stepping aside. As a gesture of good faith, she even reined in the turbulent chakra surging within her.
"Sarutobi, whether you choose to assist the Fifth Hokage… or the assassin who suddenly appeared, I won’t interfere."
She let out a soft, melodic laugh, her gaze flickering between the Third Hokage, Toshiro in the distance, and the unknown attacker.
"Please… do as you see fit."
A flicker of curiosity, tinged with amusement, flashed through Mei Terumi’s striking green eyes.
She had already sensed turmoil brewing within Konoha’s leadership when she led the mission to capture Uchiha Shisui. The recent news of an Uchiha ascending to the position of Hokage had only reinforced that instability.
And now, before her very eyes, the descendant of the legendary Wood Release was attacking the Hokage—while wielding the Sharingan no less.
This unfolding spectacle was far more intriguing than she had anticipated.
"This just keeps getting better…"
—
For a brief moment, the Third Hokage lowered his gaze, the gleam in Mei’s eyes perhaps a little too sharp for his liking. A complicated expression flickered across his face as he hesitated. Then, with a swift motion, he leaped forward—heading straight for Toshiro.
Whether he was aiding Toshiro against Obito or supporting Obito against Toshiro, only the Third Hokage himself knew the answer.
Mei made no move to stop him. Instead, a flicker of anticipation crossed her face.
After indulging in her thoughts for a moment, she scanned the battlefield one last time before vanishing into the shadows.
She had more pressing matters to attend to than lingering over Konoha’s internal power struggles.
—
Elsewhere, Uchiha Itachi, carrying Uchiha Izumi on his back, wiped the blood trickling from the corner of his eye. Across from him, Mangetsu Hōzuki remained half-kneeling, visibly weakened.
Without a word, Itachi leaped into the air and disappeared, leaving behind the remnants of battle in his wake.
"Mangetsu, are you alright?"
Hazy and disoriented, Hozuki Genko stood protectively in front of Mangetsu. She had barely caught sight of the guy vanishing into the distance when the tension in her body suddenly unraveled.
Her knees nearly buckled.
Had it not been for the unique abilities of his Kekkei Genkai, which rendered him immune to physical attacks, she wouldn’t have lasted more than a few exchanges against Itachi's assault.
She shuddered at the thought.
“…I’m not dead yet.”
The words came out hoarse and weak. Mangetsu’s face, already deathly pale, had been drained of every last trace of color. He looked like someone who had endured a relentless battle for days on end without rest.
Genko exhaled deeply. "That’s… a relief. You scared me for a moment."
The encounter had lasted only a fleeting moment, yet just from a single glance, Mangetsu had nearly been crushed. His body felt battered, his legs barely able to support him.
And those eyes…
Genko clenched her fists, still shaken.
She had almost called that Uchiha brat a "little devil," but the words died in her throat. The unfathomable power behind those eyes... it was nothing to mock.
Her mind replayed the image—just a fleeting glimpse, but she had seen the shift in his gaze.
"It must be the Mangekyō Sharingan… like Shisui…"
After responding to his girlfriend’s question, Mangetsu dropped to one knee, his body trembling uncontrollably. His legs, once steady, now shook under his weight, barely able to support him.
"Is he... really gone?"
"Yes, he's gone."
Genko’s affirmation should have been reassuring, but the moment the words left her lips, Mangetsu's strength abandoned him. His body slumped forward, collapsing into her arms.
“…Withdraw.”
The command was barely more than a whisper, but as soon as the word left his lips, his eyes dulled, unfocused and distant. He could barely register Genko’s frantic shouts beside him.
Even with her and Samehada by his side—monitoring him, ready to break the illusion at a moment’s notice—he had still fallen into the enemy’s trap.
A violent shiver ran through him as he recalled the illusionary torment he had just endured. For what felt like three endless days and nights, he had been subjected to relentless stabbing and agony in that fabricated world.
His body trembled involuntarily.
If this weren’t a battlefield, he might have simply closed his eyes and given in to exhaustion.
He was completely drained.
Not just physically—but mentally shattered.
If he didn’t find a skilled medical-nin soon, he suspected he would be bedridden for months.
