Sarutobi Naoshi was still resisting with grim determination.
He was completely surrounded by a dense swarm of bees—so thick that even the falling rain was blocked out. The surrounding trees had already been gnawed down to bare stumps. Only the tree beneath his feet remained barely intact.
But his condition was terrible.
The earlier explosion had rattled his internal organs, and a single mistake afterward had gotten him stung by the bees. Though he'd swallowed an antidote in time, it only suppressed the poison—it hadn't eliminated it.
If he couldn't break through the swarm, he would be dragged to death right here.
And that was exactly Murakami Hana's plan.
Murakami didn't possess a decisive, one-hit killing technique. Wearing the enemy down until death had always been his preferred tactic.
"Bee Clone Technique!"
The bees rapidly condensed into one Murakami clone after another, surging forward to continue their assault, steadily draining Sarutobi's stamina and chakra.
Sarutobi's hands flew through seals so fast they were nearly smoking.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
Several massive fireballs blasted out in succession, smashing into Murakami's clones. The shockwaves incinerated countless bees—but new ones immediately filled the gaps.
Great Fireball's power… just wasn't enough.
His chakra was draining rapidly. His injuries worsened. The poison inside his body was starting to break through suppression.
"Damn it!!"
Sarutobi's hands blurred once more as he drew in a deep breath.
This was his last gamble.
"Fire Release: Great Flame Technique!"
This was the only jutsu capable of breaking the deadlock—the Sarutobi clan's inherited technique. Only this could burn a path through the swarm. Every previous escape attempt had relied on it.
Violent flames erupted from his mouth, forcibly carving a passage through the bees.
But after this—
his chakra was completely empty.
"I've only got a little left… just enough to move."
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
Bang!
A burst of smoke exploded outward. More than a dozen Sarutobi Naoshis shot out through the opening in the swarm, fleeing in ten different directions.
His comrades were already dead.
Now, survival was his only goal.
Within the swarm, Murakami Hana revealed himself, his expression grim as he watched Sarutobi flee.
His control over the bees had a limited range. He couldn't split them up to chase every clone—once they exceeded that distance, control would be lost.
He could only pick the one that looked most like the real body.
"Don't think you're getting away!!"
The battlefield was left in ruins—charred trees reduced to ash, a massive clearing carved out of what had once been forest. Flames still burned on broken branches, quickly extinguished by the falling rain.
The only sound left was the steady patter of water.
Bang.
Smoke puffed up.
A thick, broken tree trunk transformed into Sarutobi Naoshi.
While using Shadow Clones, he had also layered in a Transformation Jutsu to hide his true body.
"Cough… cough…"
He spat out a trace of blood.
Poison.
The toxin was surging again. His chakra reserves were nearly gone. His trembling hand reached toward his ninja pouch.
Then—
A fireball suddenly shot in from afar, interrupting his movement.
Sarutobi dodged clumsily to the right, barely avoiding it.
But that was only the first.
Fireballs followed one after another, streaking toward him relentlessly.
He raised his kunai to block, but each impact carried terrifying force. Every deflection forced him back another step.
While defending, his eyes desperately searched for the attacker.
He could sense the direction—
but he couldn't see a single figure.
"Damn it…"
He was completely spent now. His defenses slowed. One fireball slammed into his shoulder, blasting him off his feet.
At that moment—
"Fire Release: Great Dragon Flame!"
Hyūga Akira's hands flashed through seals as he charged forward. He inhaled deeply and unleashed a blazing fire dragon that roared toward Sarutobi.
"This is—!"
The reflection of the fire dragon filled Sarutobi's pupils.
"Konoha's Fire Release?!"
BOOM!
The dragon swallowed him whole.
This time, there was no strength left to resist.
Akira watched the system notification scroll past his vision.
[Experience +12,548]
"Worth every bit of it," he laughed. "A single jōnin gives over ten thousand experience."
That amount alone was enough to raise three levels—and still max out a skill.
His chakra was completely empty after that final burst, so he immediately spent five thousand experience to level up once, refilling his chakra pool. Only then did he let out a relieved breath.
He walked forward, looking down at the corpse that had been burned into charcoal.
A jōnin's drops were never meager.
Three items lay waiting—boss-tier rewards, without question.
[Skill: Shadow Clone Jutsu]
[Skill: Fire Release · Great Flame Technique]
[Sarutobi Bloodline: Increases Fire Attribute Damage]
"A bloodline drop…" Akira murmured.
He immediately learned both skills and equipped the bloodline without hesitation.
In the Naruto world, most bloodlines dropped as equipable items—only one could be equipped at a time, but they could be swapped freely. Kekkei Genkai, on the other hand, functioned more like innate skills.
Killing one jōnin—
absolutely massive gains.
He heard faint movement cutting through the air.
Murakami Hana rushed back from the distance. The shadow clone he'd chased had already dispersed into smoke—confirming he'd picked the wrong one.
For the second time today.
When he arrived, he saw Akira standing beside the charred corpse.
"What… is this?" Murakami asked uncertainly, staring at the body.
"The ninja you couldn't finish," Akira replied casually. "I just picked up the scraps. He was already at his limit—one Fire Release finished him off."
"The mission's complete."
Murakami finally relaxed.
Who got the kill didn't matter.
What mattered was that the mission succeeded.
"But Yuki and Yuka are dead," Akira added with a look of regret.
Of course, he didn't mention how they died.
Dead men couldn't speak—and they'd given him a generous amount of experience on the way out. Those details were best left unspoken.
Murakami's smile vanished, replaced by quiet sorrow.
"Take their bodies," he said heavily. "We withdraw immediately."
Murakami and Akira each carried a corpse back to the base.
"We're not heading back to Amegakure directly?" Akira asked, genuinely curious.
He'd actually been looking forward to seeing the Rain Village—famous landmark, future site of Jiraiya's death. By that logic, it definitely counted as a tourist attraction.
"Now isn't a good time for us to return," Murakami replied, his expression complicated.
More accurately—
he wasn't in a position to return.
"Someone else will deliver their bodies."
Any comrades who died outside but could be recovered would be returned to the village for burial.
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