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Chapter 112n
🕑 Added 2025-07-28 18:35:10 +0000 UTCChapter 112n
2-in-1-chapter
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By disguising himself as a water clone using the Hydrification Technique, he had stealthily approached Uchiha Shisui. Then, using the Water Gun Technique, which required no hand seals, he intended to send Shisui straight to the Pure Land. The tactic seemed simple, but that was what made it effective.
Simplicity meant fewer openings.
Mangetsu was confident that no one could dodge his Water Gun Technique at such close range.
Until the liquid, powerful enough to pierce solid rock, did not penetrate through flesh and bone but rather tore through the trunk of a large tree. He was still in disbelief that his attack had been evaded.
Was this Shunshin Shisui? That nickname was truly fitting.
Uchiha Style: Sword Flame Leap
Shisui’s counterattack followed immediately.
The failed strike from earlier and the opponent’s liquefied body gave him enough information to identify the attacker’s origin—clearly a shinobi of the Hōzuki clan from Kirigakure. Most likely, it was that so‑called prodigy, Mangetsu.
He was also a bit baffled. First came Momochi Zabuza, then Kisame, and now Mangetsu—had he been surrounded by all of Kirigakure’s elite?
Suppressing the chaotic thoughts in his mind, he executed his technique according to the four principles: speed, stability, precision, and ruthlessness.
The blade edge, glowing with a fiery aura, slashed diagonally toward Mangetsu’s body. The strike was angled to ensure that the cut would be wide enough to deal real damage.
This was his first time facing a member of the Hōzuki clan. His knowledge of the Hydrification Technique had only ever been theoretical, so when he struck, he naturally chose the most reliable method.
And one must never forget Shisui’s surname.
He was a Uchiha. Back when he had repelled the Kirigakure shinobi led by Ao, it wasn’t merely thanks to his Body Flicker Technique, so fast it nearly rivaled space–time ninjutsu, but because of the Uchiha clan’s Sharingan. His genjutsu was every bit as formidable as his mastery of the Body Flicker.
As his blade fell, the tomoe spun in his crimson eyes. When his gaze locked with the unprepared Mangetsu, Demonic Illusion: Shackling Stakes activated. Iron stakes appeared out of thin air, piercing Mangetsu’s body and stripping the Hōzuki prodigy of all control.
He stood frozen, awaiting the strike.
Fortunately, Mangetsu was not fighting alone this time.
Water Style: Water Fang Bullet!
Compressed water spun at high speed, drilling forward with terrifying piercing power, winding with serpent-like agility. Guided by Hoshigaki Kisame hidden in the dense mist, two spiraling torrents shot at Uchiha Shisui from different angles.
“A third one as well?”
Shisui felt a touch of exasperation.
Judging from the timing and strength of the Water Style, the unseen attacker was no weakling. Facing three highly skilled assailants at once, even he felt some pressure.
Catching the approaching spirals in his peripheral vision, Shisui’s short blade could not fully display its edge.
The fire-wreathed sword only severed one of Mangetsu’s arms. As fire and water collided, a sharp hiss rang out like a boiling kettle. But when the severed limb hit the ground and dissolved into water, Shisui frowned slightly.
Another wasted strike.
No chance for a second—by then the torrents were already upon him. But his left hand had already finished forming seals. The Body Flicker answered his will; the instant the water touched him, Shisui vanished, reappearing an instant later atop a nearby treetop.
“Too fast.”
Within the mist, Kisame’s brows tightened.
That his Water Fang Bullet had missed was no surprise. If Shisui of the Body Flicker could be caught so easily, he would never have earned such a name. The problem was that Uchiha Shisui’s Body Flicker was too fast—so fast Kisame could not think of a way to strike him.
As these thoughts spun, a Water Clone appeared at Mangetsu’s side. With a single punch it shattered Mangetsu’s body, forcing him back into liquid form. The violent shift in his chakra flow freed him from Shackling Stakes.
Reforming, Mangetsu once again stood at Kisame’s side, arms intact, body unscathed. This was the Hydrification Technique of the Hōzuki clan—able to nullify nearly all physical attacks, a survival ability of the highest order.
“Kisame. Zabuza. Do not look into the Sharingan.”
Mangetsu wasn’t certain whether the Kisame before him was the original or a clone, but he knew both Kisame and the hidden Momochi Zabuza could hear him. Having just crossed blades with Shisui at close range, he knew they hoped to learn something from him.
“Absolutely do not meet Uchiha Shisui’s eyes. His genjutsu… we cannot resist it.”
His expression was grave, more serious than Kisame or Zabuza had ever seen. In their impression, Mangetsu’s mouth always carried a mocking, bloodthirsty smile, arrogance born to his bones that made him hard to like. Yet that did not stop them from acknowledging his strength.
But to see him this shaken after a single lost exchange—this was a first.
“Just that terrifyingly fast Body Flicker is troublesome enough. And then the genjutsu…”
Kisame shook his head.
This was too difficult to fight.
Hidden in the mist, Momochi Zabuza said nothing.
“This time is different. If we’re not careful, we’ll become the prey. If you don’t want to die, stay alert.” As Mangetsu spoke, more than ten Water Clones split from him, joining Kisame’s clones to harass Shisui.
Then he produced a large scroll and summoned the twin blades Hiramekarei from the camp tent.
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At the center of the nameless island’s forest lay the Kirigakure camp.
Inside, White Zetsu—disguised with Transformation Jutsu as Yagura Karatachi—sat restless. The booming explosions and columns of smoke from the island’s west were constant reminders that the mission’s end might be near.
Uchiha Rēn had arrived. With the few Mist-nin here, they weren’t nearly enough to withstand Susanoo.
Just as he resolved to flee, a commotion rose outside the tent.
Water Style: Water Colliding Wave.
Outside, Yagura unleashed a powerful Water Style. Torrents like a tidal wave surged forth, sweeping away trees, supplies, and even the Mizukage’s own tent. The ground itself was scoured, a layer stripped away. White Zetsu, still disguised as Yagura, failed to escape and was caught in the current, swept into the air.
“How magnificent.”
Rēn stood upon a mound of Mist-nin corpses, gazing upward at the massive ellipsoid water prison. By his estimate, its diameter exceeded ten kilometers. The Mist camp was nearly flattened. Fortunately, most of the Mist-nin had already been drawn west to repel the invading Konoha shinobi. Only about a hundred remained.
Yagura’s mastery of Water Release was formidable. Water Colliding Wave served both to defend and entrap. Those caught inside were not immediately killed; Yagura expelled them quickly, leaving only the disguised White Zetsu trapped within.
The super‑massive ellipsoid water prison created by the Water Colliding Wave loomed over the flat terrain of the unnamed island. From anywhere on the island, one only needed to raise their head to see it—provided the thick mist didn’t shroud their vision. Because the Mist shinobi had cast Hidden Mist Technique, the western side of the island was blanketed in fog, like a sea of clouds.
To be honest, even the Mist shinobi themselves were nearly disoriented, unsure of east, west, north, or south.
With so many casting Hidden Mist simultaneously, chakra sensing was heavily dulled. As a result, the Mist shinobi’s movements slowed considerably. In contrast, they discovered that the Konoha shinobi they faced this time each seemed to have at least one or two sensory techniques: the Sharingan, the Byakugan, the Aburame clan’s insects, the Yamanaka clan’s mental arts, the Inuzuka clan’s noses… Fighting in coordinated squads, the Konoha shinobi pressed the Mist shinobi hard, preventing them from forming proper formations.
Even though the Mist shinobi had the clear advantage in numbers—nearly a thousand stationed on the island—
Including Rēn, Konoha had dispatched fewer than seventy shinobi for this mission.
The numerical gap looked overwhelming, but in reality it wasn’t as large as it seemed. Of those thousand Mist shinobi, nearly a hundred were still recovering from injuries in earlier battles and hadn’t been sent back to the village yet. Subtract the Chūnin and Genin used as expendable cannon fodder, and there were just over a hundred Jōnin‑level combatants.
Furthermore, one must not forget the iron law known throughout the shinobi world:
To deal with one Uchiha, at least two shinobi of equal rank were required. As for Uchiha Shisui, he was holding his own against three of Kirigakure’s prodigies simultaneously. And it wasn’t just the Uchiha; every Konoha shinobi in this operation had been carefully hand‑picked by Rēn from various clans.
Shinobi like Aburame Shihei, Inuzuka Gaku, and Yamanaka Mokuren—all were seasoned elites, the very best distilled from the thousands under Rēn’s command.
Calculated this way, Konoha’s victory was virtually assured.
And indeed, this was the reality.
The limited space of the island greatly constrained the effectiveness of the Hidden Mist Technique. The mist released by so many shinobi clashed and disrupted each other. Of course, Kirigakure had techniques to coordinate large‑scale Hidden Mist, but such methods required preparation and proper conditions.
Now, rushed into battle without the direct command of the Mizukage, the Mist shinobi had no time to prepare.
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A little while earlier, before Rēn and Yagura Karatachi could break into the Mist camp’s “headquarters”
“No! At this rate we won’t be able to hold them!”
A battered Mist shinobi staggered out of the blast radius of an Uchiha Fire Style, hair singed yellow from the heat. Barely surviving, he croaked a hoarse warning.
“Damn it! We can’t hold them?”
Mei Terumī gritted her teeth.
Her heart was full of unwillingness. If only the shinobi from the other two bases were here. But to force the Konoha shinobi to exhaust themselves racing up and down the long border, the Fourth Mizukage had split the massive force into three, stationing them separately.
“Watch out!”
A warning from behind snapped Mei Terumī back to her senses. There was no time to berate herself for her lapse of focus in battle. The wind‑chakra‑laced shuriken whirling toward her looked like a giant windmill. She had no doubt that its edge, sharp enough to slice stone, could shred her body into pieces.
Lava Style: Dissolving Monster Technique!
Attack met with attack—this was Mei’s choice.
She exhaled a stream of sticky, highly corrosive acid. Much of the acid was flung away by the spinning wind blade, but enough splashed onto the core shuriken. Within a single breath, the forged steel melted away completely.
With its medium destroyed, the wind chakra dispersed.
The razor wind vanished half a meter before her, leaving only a rush of air that lifted her reddish‑brown hair, swaying gently in the gust.
Having neutralized the ambush from the forest on her right flank, Mei focused her gaze, hoping to spot the Konoha shinobi who had used the Wind Style. Instead, she saw two young kunoichi burst through the treeline into the clearing.
Wind and lightning collided.
Two blades, moving at blinding speed, clashed in midair.
The combatants were Uchiha Chihaya and Ringo Ameyuri—bitter rivals meeting yet again. This was their third duel in recent days. The previous two had both ended in Ameyuri’s defeat. With Wind’s natural advantage over Lightning, Uchiha Chihaya had held the upper hand.
But two losses had not discouraged Ringo Ameyuri.
Ironically, the two girls were very much alike—dedicated wholly to their chosen paths, immersing themselves in what they loved, indifferent to social niceties, awkward at interacting with others. Despite their striking appearances, they had little success with men.
Not that it mattered. For girls like them, battles full of danger and excitement were what they truly lived for.
Two defeats only made Ringo Ameyuri more determined.
And twice losing her quarry only made Uchiha Chihaya fix her eyes on Ameyuri all the more.
So, when they crossed paths a third time, there was no wasted breath.
Their blades flashed as they launched into their third fierce clash.
