The rain lashed down on the battlefield. Each drop struck the masks of the Suna shinobi, the metal shells of Chiyo's puppets, and Hanzo's black cloak, already drenched.
A heavy silence preceded the storm.
Then Chiyo raised her hand.
*Snap!*
Twenty puppets burst forth around her, suspended by threads of blue chakra. Their arms unfurled into serrated blades, mechanical spears, and whirling saws. They encircled Hanzo.
Beside him, Pakura formed a hand seal. Her chakra exploded, crackling like a furnace.
"Shakuton: Ōka Gekiryū—Fiery Wave of the Red Flower."
A spiral of heat rose, vaporizing the rain around her with a sinister hiss.
Hanzo took a step back.
His pupils analyzed.
Chiyo in the rear. Pakura to the left. Three Jonin approaching fast. Twenty puppets…
He slid his black scythe from the ground.
The metal vibrated against his fingers.
"Let's go."
A Jonin from Suna lunged at him.
Hanzo pivoted, his elbow slamming into the attacker's throat. A twist of his wrist, and his scythe sliced through a second opponent's leg before he could react.
The third threw a kunai at his blind spot.
*Clang!*
Hanzo blocked the blade barehanded. His other hand struck the attacker's neck, shattering vertebrae.
Three dead. In ten seconds.
But this was only the beginning. The puppets attacked.
A swarm of blades and spears sliced through the air. Hanzo rolled under the first wave, his scythe carving an arc. Two puppets lost arms, a third was cleaved in two, but others took their place instantly.
He leaped back, formed a hand seal.
"Kuchiyose no Jutsu—Ibuse!"
A cloud of smoke exploded, revealing a massive salamander, its black, viscous skin glistening and its maw foaming with poison. It roared, then spewed a toxic jet in a wide arc.
The puppets retreated.
But Pakura leaped into the air, her hands crackling with burning chakra.
She launched five compressed spheres of heat.
Hanzo shouted:
"Dodge!"
The salamander jumped to the side. Two explosions tore through the ground. The cobblestones literally melted under the temperature.
The heat pierced even through the rain.
Hanzo squinted.
Her Shakuton is more dangerous than I thought. Every direct hit = instant death.
A strategic thought surfaced.
Chiyo controls all the puppets. If I cut her strings…
But time was running out.
A puppet lunged at him from behind.
He turned just in time to raise his arm—a blade buried itself in his left shoulder. He growled, grabbed the puppet's arm, and smashed it against another.
Blood flowed, hot and sticky.
The salamander charged to cover him. Hanzo seized the opening.
Smoke bombs.
He threw two capsules to the ground. Thick black smoke enveloped the area. Under the cover, he formed a quick hand seal.
"Suiton: Water Barrier!"
A wave of water surged behind him, blocking two puppets charging through the fog.
But Pakura's heat gradually dissipated the smoke.
Hanzo reappeared, gasping.
"You want to dance? Then dance with death."
He hurled his scythe, attached to a chain, toward Chiyo.
But she dodged effortlessly, her puppets forming a protective wall.
"Pathetic," she murmured.
A volley of glowing chakra threads shot toward him. The puppets dove.
Hanzo leaped… too late.
One struck his thigh, tearing through muscle.
He crashed to the ground, on his knees, but raised his arms:
"Suiton—Hari Danmaku!"
Dozens of aqueous needles burst from his palms. Chiyo retreated, three of her puppets pierced.
Pakura reappeared then.
"Too slow!"
She hurled a ball of Shakuton.
Hanzo jumped back, landing awkwardly.
The heat grazed his chest. His skin smoked. A hole had melted through his cloak.
He panted, breath short.
Not good. Not good at all. I'm at 30%. My chakra's dropping fast because of the summoning. My leg's bleeding. If this keeps up…
But his eyes fixed on Chiyo again.
If I neutralize her, the puppets fall. She's the core of the problem. Pakura's just a thorn. It's her… I need to target.
Hanzo clenched his teeth.
Next attack… I'm going all in.
The salamander was impaled by five puppets at once.
It screamed, retreated, then vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Hanzo stood alone.
The wind swirled. The rain fell. The ground was riddled with blades, needles, and ash.
Before him: Chiyo, implacable. Pakura, blazing. And fourteen puppets remaining.
He spat a stream of blood.