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Chapter 154n
🕑 Added 2025-09-08 15:02:01 +0000 UTCChapter 154n
2-in-1-chapter
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“What the hell? It’s precisely because I never underestimated Konoha that I wanted to accumulate an advantage in advance…” Darui’s grumbling, however his grumbling could not be heard by Yugito, who had already left. He stopped midway through, unused to voicing complaints aloud.
Even so, her words about having more important matters to report piqued his interest, and he still had no clear understanding of what that “Susanoo” truly was.
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“Shisui, are you alright?”
“It’s nothing. I’m used to it. Just a bit of blood loss—given time, I’ll recover.”
“…”
Seeing the steady trickle of blood seeping from Shisui’s eyes, the others found themselves speechless.
Could anyone really get used to this?
If the blood had come from another part of the body, it would not have been so shocking. Injuries were the daily reality of shinobi. Of those serving on the front lines, even if one in a hundred managed to go a full year without being killed, ninety-nine would still end up hospitalised for a month or two.
The difference was that ordinary injuries struck the body, which could recover quickly. The eyes, however, were fragile and indispensable. Damage to such a vital organ often meant the end of one’s shinobi career. Vision and hearing were essential to a shinobi’s work—lose either, and missions could no longer be carried out.
And yet—
Contrary to what they imagined as forced bravado, Shisui truly did not care.
The bleeding eyes were the result of overtaxed ocular power. Once he borrowed Samehada from Rēn and replenished his chakra, the problem would be resolved. It was not a matter worth worrying over, though the true details involved the clan’s secret of the Mangekyō Sharingan and could not be openly explained.
Besides, the bleeding now was not even due to using Susanoo.
Why did my dōjutsu have to be Kotoamatsukami…
He sighed inwardly.
He never grew accustomed to using that power to bend another’s will. The guilt it caused weighed heavier than the pain in his eyes.
After a moment of silence, Hyūga Hiashi shifted the subject. “From the looks of it, the Cloud-nin have not pursued us.” Seated cross-legged on the grass, he could still see the raised ridges of the Kusatsu Highlands to the north. They had retreated here and halted, remaining to observe the enemy’s movements.
The Cloud-nin did not seem inclined to press their advantage.
“Their goal was to seize the Kusatsu Mountains, leaving us without terrain to rely on. That way, we would be forced to face them on the open plains,” Hiashi observed.
Nara Shiosui spoke quietly. “Terrain has its uses, but what truly matters is relative strength. Before, we were at a disadvantage and had to rely on the land to fight. Now, even without the highlands, with fresh reinforcements our chances of holding back the Cloud-nin are much higher.”
Hiashi’s gaze turned toward Uchiha Shisui.
At this point, he understood clearly. Whether they could endure the Cloud’s next assault until the second wave of reinforcements arrived would depend on Shisui’s ability to withstand the power of the jinchūriki. “Shisui, can you still use Susanoo? If the Cloud sends their jinchūriki against us, can you hold them off?”
“As long as I’m not facing both jinchūriki together, one-on-one is not a problem. If they join forces, it will take considerable effort and carry significant risk. If possible, it’s best to avoid that situation.”
Shisui left his words measured, accounting for unforeseen dangers.
But to the others, his answer brimmed with confidence. To call the combined assault of two jinchūriki merely troublesome—where they expected him to admit outright defeat—only underscored the overwhelming might of the Uchiha’s Sharingan.
“That is reassuring. In that case, we can face the Cloud-nin with greater certainty,” Hiashi said.
His eyes flicked to Might Guy, pressed to the edges of the group. He was another formidable trump card, one who could trade blows with Darui evenly. Coupled with the reputation his father had left behind, in a moment of crisis he might prove decisive.
They also had Aburame Shibi, Inuzuka Gaku, Akimichi Tōdō, and several others in their prime or seasoned by experience. This was far better than when Hiashi and Aburame Shibi had been left to hold the line with difficulty.
“As long as the Stone-nin don’t interfere, driving the Cloud back to the Land of Lightning is only a matter of time. The situation is improving,” said Aburame Shibi, speaking at last after remaining with his eyes closed in silence to conserve strength.
“The Stone-nin…” Hiashi let out a sigh.
Konoha’s plight was ever the same. Surrounded on all sides, its strength was constantly divided, unable to concentrate force against any single enemy. Worse still, under the Third Hokage’s policy of lenience abroad, even victories had rarely allowed Konoha to replenish its losses by extracting resources. Instead, the village had steadily bled strength, surviving only on the vast reserves built up by the First and Second Hokage.
“Hopefully the Third Tsuchikage will keep still this time,” Hiashi murmured without conviction.
After that, the group fell into quiet rest, conserving their strength. When Hiashi and Aburame Shibi had recovered enough to move, they set out once more, heading toward the new encampment of Konoha’s main forces.
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The temporary command center of Kumogakure had been set up inside a small inn, but the atmosphere there was unusually heavy. The Cloud-nin standing guard at the office door barely dared to breathe. He could not understand why. After all, they had just repelled Konoha once more, seizing control of the Kusatsu. By any measure it was a complete victory, yet Lord Dodai’s expression remained grave.
“Konoha’s reinforcements, then? At this time it is not strange. If Konoha does not want us to push into the Land of Fire, of course they would send reinforcements. That much is expected. But Yugito, you said you had urgent intelligence to report, so urgent you abandoned the task of establishing a defensive line in the Kusatsu Mountains. What exactly happened?”
The Fourth Raikage, A, that fitness-obsessed warrior, stood by the window, lifting two dumbbells as though they were barbells.
Besides A, several others were present. Dodai, the Raikage’s assistant and the strategist of Kumogakure, wore a solemn expression as he sat on the sofa, half-lidded eyes deep in thought. Beside him sat Darui, who had returned with Yugito. Influenced by Dodai’s demeanor, even his usual air of indolence was gone.
On the sofa across from them sat a fair-skinned young man with golden curls. His name was C. Like Darui, he was a rising talent, regarded as one of the most outstanding of their generation and highly valued by A. For this campaign, the Raikage had not chosen the elders of the village, but had instead brought Darui and C to temper them in battle.
“Yo, Yugito, your face doesn’t look too good!”
The speaker sat on the windowsill, his skin dark, his hair pale yellow, a scar of a horn mark on his left cheek, the character for “iron” tattooed on his right shoulder, sunglasses covering his eyes, and seven swords strapped across his back. Coupled with his peculiar way of speaking, there was no mistaking him: Kumogakure’s other jinchūriki, the Eight-Tails host, Killer B.
Nii Yugito stood in the center of the room.
At this moment, all eyes were upon her.
It was because she had said she had information of the utmost importance to report that they had all gathered here.
“What I am about to say comes mostly from Matatabi.”
Yugito began speaking, naming the Two-Tails outright.
“Konoha’s reinforcements were Uchiha, and not just any Uchiha—one who had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan. I was no match for him. Had he not seemed in a hurry to rescue someone and chosen to disengage, I might not be standing here now.”
Her words sent a shock through the room.
Everyone knew what sort of person Yugito was. To phrase it politely, proud; less politely, stubbornly unwilling to lose face. She had suffered setbacks before, but never admitted defeat to anyone. She would always find her own way to redeem herself.
Now she had openly admitted she was not her opponent’s equal. It was as if the sun had risen in the west.
But immediately afterward, the weight of her words struck them all. Yugito was a perfect jinchūriki, one who had mastered her tailed beast’s power. For such a person to admit she could not match an enemy—how powerful must that enemy be?
“Sigh.”
Darui exhaled heavily.
He had already witnessed her strange lapse during the battle and thus was not as shaken as the others.
“Mangekyō Sharingan? That name… it feels like I’ve heard it before.” The Raikage set down his dumbbells, frowning in thought. But clearly he could not recall. So he turned his gaze toward Dodai, who still sat with eyes half-shut. “Dodai, do you know what this Mangekyō Sharingan is?”
“I have never seen it myself,” Dodai replied first with a shake of his head, then added, “But the Second Hokage once said that the three-tomoe Sharingan is not the true limit of the Uchiha clan’s power. Beyond the three tomoe lies a higher evolution, known as the Mangekyō Sharingan. It is said that Uchiha Madara awakened this power, and only then could he stand as an equal to the First Hokage.”
The thousand-year history of the shinobi world was too distant to recount in full.
But within the last century, Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara had swept across the ninja world unmatched. As they stood at the very pinnacle, naturally the eyes of all shinobi were upon them. Hashirama’s Wood Release and Madara’s Mangekyō Sharingan were no secrets in that era. Any Jōnin knew that when those two fought, it meant the very map of the shinobi world would be redrawn.
That was no exaggeration.
Each time Hashirama and Madara clashed, the powers of the ninja world had to update their maps, whether by sending their own scouts or stealing the records of other villages. Every great village maintained such notes.
The reason even the Raikage now knew so little of the Mangekyō Sharingan was simple. Since Madara’s time, no Uchiha had displayed the Mangekyō Sharingan on the battlefield. To be precise, none had revealed its abilities openly. With generations of shinobi dying like crops cut down, too many elders who remembered the old days had perished.
Those who survived had no habit of constantly telling the young how fearsome Hashirama and Madara had been.
And so, the Mangekyō Sharingan, like Wood Release, had become a legend of the past.
Other than a few old men, or those like Dodai who read deeply, most had no chance to learn what the Mangekyō Sharingan truly was. Compared with the straightforward concept of Wood Release, the Mangekyō Sharingan was too complex to explain. Even in Madara’s time, understanding of it was fragmentary at best.
