The three puppets worked in perfect harmony—two closed in with razor-sharp weapons, engaging in close quarters combat, while the third remained at a distance, throwing tools to disrupt and distract.
But Kazuki was convinced this wasn't the full extent of his opponent's power. If this was all the puppeteer had, he wouldn't act so brazenly. That kind of arrogance usually came with deep, unshakable confidence—like Uchiha Madara, who would never bother hiding unless it served a greater plan. True strength carried its own swagger.
Kazuki drew his blade. He'd dance with these puppets for a while, see what his sword style had built up to—maybe discover the hidden function of the techniques he'd been honing. At the very least, he'd gather some intel.
The red-haired puppet lunged with unnatural posture, swinging its blade at Kazuki's face with vicious speed. Kazuki gripped his sword with his left hand and parried instantly, diverting the blow. At the same time, the blond puppet's fingers extended—razor-sharp and whistling through the air—aimed directly at Kazuki's side.
"Bastards," Kazuki swore inwardly. A hit to that spot would wreck his kidneys—crippling for anyone, especially a man.
And no, he did need those kidneys.
Fortunately, Kazuki was ready. After deflecting the frontal attack, he twisted his torso and dodged the stabbing fingers, countering with a slash—but had to halt mid-strike to deflect a shuriken aimed for his eyes and throat.
Then came the next wave—the blade and the fingers again.
Kazuki's expression remained calm. The puppet coordination was flawless. No wonder people said fighting a master puppeteer felt like taking on an entire squad solo.
But Kazuki wasn't alone.
A deafening screech like a thousand birds erupted, and lightning lit the forest canopy. A bolt of blue-white light streaked across the clearing, bringing with it the smell of scorched air.
Kazuki used the Body Flicker Technique to evade the attack from behind, just as those needle-fingers lunged again—only to freeze midair.
Kazuki slashed in return, and the blond puppet's claw took a strange turn—ripping into the red-haired puppet's torso, revealing pale flesh and the wooden structure beneath.
Kazuki's eyes narrowed.
Human puppets.
These weren't ordinary wood-crafted tools. These were corpses—turned into puppets. No wonder they looked so damn uncanny. In the dark, their expressions alone would invoke pure uncanny valley horror.
But there was no time for disgust.
The shadow clone's Chidori had failed to land a critical blow—lacking the Sharingan, it couldn't adjust mid-strike. It merely pierced the puppet's arm.
Against a normal ninja, that'd be a success. But against puppets?
A wasted effort.
Kazuki stole a glance at the other fight.
The purple-haired puppet, which had been lobbing tools from a distance, was now locked in close combat with the clone—sword in hand. Meanwhile, the puppeteer was still seated, roasting meat... even flipping it calmly.
Kazuki knew then—he hadn't applied nearly enough pressure.
He intensified his strikes, the Hatake Sword Style flowing with increasing speed as he focused all efforts on the blond puppet. Break one, and he'd turn the fight into a manageable two-on-one.
His movements grew lighter, faster. Wind visibly coiled around his blade with each swing.
The red-haired puppet lifted its weapon to block—but Kazuki, empowered by a raging gale, struck first. His blade cleaved straight through the puppet's skull, exposing wood and a hidden mouth that spewed purple gas.
"Poison." Kazuki's mind locked onto the obvious.
Sand-nin loved their poisons. Even Chiyo, the old hag of Sunagakure, was a master of it.
Once, Kazuki would've backed off.
Now?
"Lightning Lock: Aka Drive!" Kazuki slashed down, unleashing a violent whirlwind from his blade. The wind swallowed the poison gas and the puppet in a single breath.
Inside the vortex, wooden limbs shredded, pale flesh torn from the body—until the puppet went still.
"The chakra threads snapped?" Kazuki noted, just as the blond puppet attempted a sneak attack—only to freeze up for half a second. Enough for Kazuki to dodge easily.
He prepared to strike the blond one next—when a flood of memories surged through him.
Instinct screamed.
He leaned back—and a barrage of Wind Blades slashed past, nearly cutting him in half.
More poison mist followed, along with those damn needle-fingers aimed for his eyes.
"Goddamn it, are we back to three-on-one again? What is this, a damn family reunion?" Kazuki cursed—and lightning crashed down from above.
The blond puppet's arm disintegrated under the strike. The poison dispersed.
From the bolt's afterglow, a figure emerged—wreathed in fire.
Kazuki's eyes darted to the purple-haired puppet.
Next to it stood a man. Pale face. Blank expression. Jet-black hair.
The meat-roasting bastard.
But Kazuki's pupils shrank.
He was a puppet too.
"What a fascinating technique," the puppet-man spoke, voice gleaming with excitement despite the dead look on his face. "You must be Konoha's Flame Demon."
Four puppets.
High-level puppetry.
And the puppets were distinct, stylized, crafted with unique flair...
Sasori of the Red Sand.
Kazuki's face darkened.
He'd hit the goddamn jackpot.
Sasori—member of the Akatsuki. Partnered with Deidara as one of the "Art Duo." Deidara chased explosive, ephemeral beauty; Sasori sought permanence, eternal stillness. That's why he made himself into a puppet. A twisted monument to his ideal of everlasting art.
His technique, Performance of a Hundred Puppets, was legendary. He'd destroyed a small country solo. Among the Akatsuki, his strength ranked high.
And these weren't even his trump cards.
No Third Kazekage Puppet.
No Hiruko.
Maybe they weren't finished yet.
Kazuki figured Sasori had been hunting shinobi on the border to harvest bodies—raw materials for future creations. But didn't Sasori usually avoid incorporating actual flesh?
Was this an earlier iteration of his craft?
Either way, Kazuki had a problem: how the hell was he going to survive this?
"Who are you?" Kazuki asked casually, his hands flashing through seals—testing Sasori's reflexes.
No response. No counter seals.
His jutsu launched.
Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu. A blazing inferno surged forward.
Just as hundreds of needles filled the air.
Kazuki flickered away.
The clone cast Mind Sand Control in tandem.
"Well done. You'd make a fine puppet," Sasori's voice floated out.
Kazuki scowled.
The fireball hit nothing. Sasori's real body wasn't in any of the puppets.
Of course. Fire didn't faze soulless husks.
But Kazuki remained calm.
He still had his ace: the shadow clone. A last resort escape.
So why not test himself a bit more?
"You afraid to face me?" he taunted.
Silence.
The blond puppet, mangled and smoking, lunged at him once more.
Poison needles rained from behind. A scorched black-haired puppet charged, blades flashing.
Kazuki had no room to move.
Still—he could respond.
A Rasengan bloomed in his palm. In a blink, Kazuki appeared behind the blond puppet and drove the spiraling sphere into its spine.
The explosion tore flesh and wood apart. Kazuki used the ruined puppet's body to shield himself from the incoming darts.
The black-haired puppet's blade came down. A hail of kunai launched from its arm.
Not a real threat.
Kazuki's body splintered—revealing a substitution log.
A sharp tail pierced the wood.
"Oh?" Sasori's voice turned curious.
Kazuki crouched atop a tree, flame dancing at his heels. The entire trunk ignited.
Hiruko? No... not quite.
A prototype?
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
He raised both hands. A massive fireball descended, igniting the forest in a ravenous blaze.
Sasori gave no answer.
Kazuki grimaced.
If that was just a prototype Hiruko...
Could this be because Kakuzu had leaked intel about him?
No time to ponder. More puppets materialized—swarming.
They fought like a hive mind. Coordination near-perfect.
Thankfully, Kazuki had been using Hatake Sword Style all along—chakra reserves still solid.
Puppet arms surged from every angle. Needles returned.
The burning body was grabbed—restrained.
More needles honed in on his skull.
Sasori wanted him intact.
He admired the Flame Demon's uniqueness. A worthy addition to his collection—on par with the Kazekage puppet.
So he had to preserve Kazuki's mind, his form.
The puppet arms latched on—Kazuki couldn't move.
But he wasn't afraid.
His chakra was still full.
He had backup plans.
The forest erupted with light—a sun blooming in miniature. Puppet arms burned to ash.
The needles pierced Kazuki's skull—then passed straight through.
"What... is this?" Sasori's voice trembled with delight.
A crater opened. A hand of flame reached out.
And from it rose a beast.
Kazuki's head transformed—bone-like features framed burning eyes. Fury roared in his chest.
The surrounding inferno swelled with his will.
Flame Demon Form—Second Stage.
Kazuki towered over the battlefield, his enemies now tiny before him.
He raised a Great Fireball, massive and seething, and pressed it to the ground.
Sasori trembled with rapture.
So this is the Flame Demon.
From far away, atop a spire, Konan watched.
"There's a battle," she said. A pillar of fire soared skyward—visible even from here.
"Let's move," said Deva Path.
Anger laced his voice.
He would not permit such chaos in the Land of Rain.
This was Akatsuki's domain—home to countless innocents.
Reckless fighting like this...
It could only mean one thing.
Arrogant shinobi from the Five Great Nations.
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