Jin-Woo's army outnumbered all the present shinobi combined — the imbalance was clear, but even so, Nagato didn't want to stop. Then, with a single hand gesture, he commanded his Six Paths of Judgment to attack:
Minato, faster than lightning, blinked from the ground to the sky with a sonic crack that tore the air. His white cloak with the Hokage inscription flapped violently, and in his right hand, a marked kunai formed, while in his left, a Rasengan spun hungrily.
Tobirama, with cold and calculating eyes, moved with surgical precision, jumping between shadows and elements, invoking seals at superhuman speed. His strategies bloomed on the battlefield like silent explosions of certain death.
Madara raised his hand arrogantly, as if calling the heavens themselves to kneel.
The Susano'o burst into a monstrous, colossal form, its skeleton forming with a roar of chakra that cracked the ground.
The armor followed, flaming in purple hue, covered in giant swords, while the creature's face seemed to carry the fury of the universe itself.
Shisui, in turn, did the same — and his emerald green Susano'o, more compact, more agile, with eyes glowing in Mangekyō, emerged abruptly, elegant and destructive. His movements flowed like a deadly river, as if dancing between worlds, cutting through everything with unmatched precision.
And then… Hashirama smiled.
With an ancestral roar, he summoned the Thousand-Armed Buddha. The earth cracked. The forest responded.
A pillar of wood ascended to the skies as if the world itself lifted it. In moments, the wooden colossus took shape — its thousand arms ready to crush entire armies, its serene face hiding a power that echoed through time. The ground trembled. The sky darkened.
In response, Jin-Woo's Shadows took formation.
Igrit, with his flaming spear, led the left flank, eyes fixed on Hashirama as if he already knew the legend.
Iron, the giant clad in black steel armor, stomped the ground, pounding his chest and roaring — a sound that reverberated like dark thunder.
Tusk, the orc mage, began conjuring, his hands charged with mana runes, preparing spells that never existed in any ninja scroll.
Then, the Six Paths of Shadow — the former bodies of Pain now reanimated under Jin-Woo's command — stepped forward.
The Deva Path, leading, manipulated gravity with the same coldness as before. The others followed like loyal shadows: the Asura Path, with explosive arms, the Human Path, extracting souls, and the Naraka Path, already summoning the King of Hell.
Jin-Woo remained still in the rear, his eyes glowing with shadowy violet. Observing. Calculating. Waiting.
On the other side, Nagato did the same, atop a stone structure, his red hair swaying in the chakra-laden wind.
Then…
THE WAR BEGAN.
The ground shook with the initial clash.
Madara's Susano'o brought down one of its swords on the shadow flank but was intercepted by Igrit, who spun his flaming spear and created a blazing barrier, absorbing part of the impact. Still, he was hurled dozens of meters back, opening a crater in the ground.
Shisui advanced at high speed with his Susano'o, trying to pierce the enemy lines' center, but was surprised by a strike from the Shadow Animal Path, which summoned a flying beast that bit his blade, slowing his advance.
In the sky, Minato teleported in sequence, planting explosive seals across the entire Shadow rear.
But Tusk raised a purple mana field around Jin-Woo, and when the marks exploded, they were completely absorbed by the magical shield.
Minato narrowed his eyes. That wasn't chakra. It was something else.
Tobirama appeared beside the Shadow Preta Path, trying to absorb its abilities. But before he could finish, he was ensnared by black tentacles — it was Igris, returning faster than expected, launching Tobirama into a stone wall.
Meanwhile, Hashirama's Buddha began delivering thousands of punches in sequence against the shadow army.
The ground sank with every blow.
But Iron held its fists.
One. Two. Three arms. Five. Ten.
The steel titan held the Buddha's advance with sheer brute force, supported by dozens of smaller shadows reinforcing him with weapons driven into the earth.
On the right flank, Konan flew with her paper wings, launching explosive projectiles shaped like piercing spears.
But a winged shadow — the reincarnation of Kaisel — intercepted the attacks midair, spewing black flames and disrupting her flight.
Kisame spun in, his Samehada thirsty for chakra, smashing shadows on the ground with blind fury.
But then… the Shadow Asura Path exploded half the field around him with missiles, forcing Kisame to retreat, blood covering his face, laughing with pleasure.
Hidan ran in circles, drawing his ritual in blood already spilled by Kakuzu, who launched chakra threads and elemental hearts at the shadow generals.
But the Naraka Path once again summoned the King of Hell, which devoured the attacks and spewed black flames at the two Akatsuki members, forcing them to hide behind shattered rocks.
Zetsu moved across the battlefield like a specter, trying to manipulate the earth and stab shadows from behind.
But he was surprised by Bellion, who descended from the sky with his spinning dual blade, slicing Zetsu in half before he could react.
The White Fang and Itachi Uchiha stood side by side, facing a line of shadows advancing like a living tide. The shadow warriors attacked silently, with empty eyes and precise movements, as if obeying a will greater than instinct.
Itachi moved among them with coldness and perfection. His crimson eyes analyzed every shadow, anticipated every strike. With a quick motion, he launched a volley of shuriken, all hitting vital points — but the shadows simply rose again. A katana strike severed one's neck, but another appeared immediately behind.
The White Fang, at his side, fought with ferocity. His saber tore through enemies, and his reflexes were like a wild predator. For a moment, it seemed they would hold out.
But then, Beru fell from the sky like a bolt of lightning.
The earth shook beneath his sharp claws, the impact lifting dust and rock fragments. He charged like a ravenous beast, ignoring the White Fang and focusing directly on Itachi.
Itachi turned, eyes alert — but too late.
Beru struck with a clean slash. Itachi's body was split in half.
For a second, everything went silent.
Then, the body dissolved into dozens of black crows that flew in every direction, filling the sky with wings and screeches. It was only a copy.
Beru stood still, eyes glowing with indifference. He showed no surprise. Made no move to pursue the real one. He simply let it go.
Itachi vanished from the battlefield.
And high above, hidden in the shadow of a twisted tree, Itachi observed.
— I've seen enough.
He pressed two fingers to his forehead, invoking a crow-based teleport seal.
In a breath, he disappeared.
Beru looked around. Expressionless. Unhurried.
Meanwhile, Sung Jin-Woo stood, watching like an ancient general witnessing the collapse of an enemy wall.
The shadow army marched like a black wave upon Nagato's shinobi. Every battle was a massacre. The warriors of the Final Judgment fell one by one — and were welcomed as shadows.
Hashirama fell, then rose again with eyes emptied by eternal loyalty.
Tobirama, defeated by a group of shadow beasts, was reborn with his hand on his sword hilt, now serving a new master. One by one, they were assimilated.
The battlefield was turning into a nightmare.
All around, the shinobi of the great nations just watched.
Their eyes were wide. Some trembled. Others, paralyzed.
— What is this...? — murmured a Kumo shinobi, voice barely leaving his throat.
— He's... creating an army with the dead... — said an Iwa kunoichi, hands covered in blood, unsure whether to fight or flee.
— This... isn't a war anymore... it's extermination... — spoke a Suna jounin, falling to his knees.
Shock. Fear. Incomprehension.
Some tried to retreat. Others knelt, as if hoping it would spare their lives. No one dared attack. What they were witnessing was not human. Not shinobi. It was from another world.
And amidst the chaos, Jin-Woo watched with his glowing black eyes.
Calm.
Ready.
Invincible.