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As Second Tsuchikage 38
🕑 Added 2025-07-28 16:00:07 +0000 UTCChapter 38: Combined Attack
He was Madara’s only friend, the only brother he had ever known. If he didn’t avenge him, what would Madara think of him from the Pure Land? A heavy sigh slipped from his lips.
If he abandoned his pursuit of vengeance, he would be turning his back on Madara. But if he held on to it, he would be betraying the villagers who had placed their hopes in him. The fragile peace they had fought to build would shatter, replaced by an all-out war.
And it wouldn’t be some brief clash between a few scattered clans. It would be a full-scale war, dragging in all four of the great nations and plunging the entire shinobi world into bloodshed once again.
Even so, he couldn’t erase Madara from his heart. He couldn’t forget those sorrowful eyes, filled with unspoken emotion. Most of all, he couldn’t forget the way Madara had looked at him in that final moment before his supposed death. The image haunted him.
Hashirama stood in silence, deep in thought. Slowly, his eyes opened. In that instant, a sharp, deadly intent surged from within them. The warmth that usually filled his gaze was gone, replaced by cold resolve.
He had made up his mind.
Looking out across the vast shinobi world, Hashirama reached one stark, irreversible conclusion: kill. Wipe them out, every last one. Cleanse the battlefield completely. It would ease the pressure on the village and fulfill the promise he owed Madara.
Even if a thousand enemies stood in his path, he would still press forward without hesitation.
In that moment, Hashirama made his choice. Things were no longer the same. This time, he wouldn’t choose the village over Madara. This time, he would forsake the world itself for Madara’s sake.
If he abandoned revenge, the shinobi world would no doubt rejoice at avoiding war. But there would be one person who would remain forgotten, one soul left without justice, Madara. He wouldn’t allow that. His best friend would not be erased from history, disregarded and dishonored.
Even if the entire world turned against their bond, Hashirama would stay by Madara’s side without flinching. He owed Madara too much to ever walk away now. This time, no matter who stood in opposition, he would fight for the man who had once stood beside him.
Maybe... maybe that’s what being a true best friend really meant.
Clap!
Hashirama brought his hands together in a sharp, decisive motion. A tidal surge of chakra erupted from his body, massive and overwhelming. The markings on his Sage Mode mask deepened, his hair lifted into the air despite the windless field, and his chakra roared around him like an unleashed storm.
“Come! The final battle begins now!”
In that instant, everyone on the battlefield froze.
This chakra... it dwarfed all of theirs combined.
“Sage Art: Wood Style: True Several Thousand Hands!!!”
Hashirama’s voice boomed like thunder.
The ground trembled as though the earth itself was in pain. Stones flew in every direction, mountains cracked and split, and then a colossal wooden figure surged from the earth. Towering like a giant, it loomed above the battlefield, radiating overwhelming power. Each of its hands, thick as ancient pillars, carried a pressure that left even seasoned shinobi breathless.
Each massive palm rivaled the Nine-Tails in size.
The Allied Shinobi Forces were struck dumb, pale-faced, and paralyzed. Their entire formation crumbled under the weight of the pressure bearing down on them. Even the four Kage at the front lines were visibly shaken.
Damn it. If we’d known he still had this up his sleeve, we never would’ve jumped forward just to show off...
You were hiding something like that and didn’t bring it out earlier?!
They had assumed Mū’s squad had already pushed Hashirama to the brink.
They had planned to arrive just in time to deal the final blow, to end things with style and demonstrate the strength of the current generation of Kage. None of them had anticipated that Hashirama had been hiding a trump card of this scale. The colossal wooden construct had thrown everything into disarray.
The four Kage turned to Mū with pitiful, desperate eyes, silently pleading for some kind of answer.
Mū: “......”
He had no words. He had expected the four of them to unleash some grand, earth-shattering jutsu to match Hashirama’s wooden giant. Now it looked like the burden would fall entirely on him once again.
Still, he couldn’t completely blame them. If they had confronted Hashirama before he had activated True Several Thousand Hands, maybe they would have stood a chance. But with this monster looming over the battlefield, everything had changed.
“Can we still fight back?”
Ishikawa’s voice broke the silence as he glanced at Mū with a flicker of hope. Behind them, the Allied Forces stared as well, eyes wide and fearful, like a crowd of frightened children looking to a lone adult for salvation. The range of the wooden colossus was enormous. Unless someone possessed a space-time technique, escape was impossible.
Their only hope now was that Mū-sama had one more card to play.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I even have enough chakra left...” Mū said, his eyes shut tightly as he tried to focus.
“What if we add ours to yours?”
Two voices rang out in unison.
Ginkaku and Kinkaku stepped forward without hesitation and placed their hands on Mū’s shoulders, sending a stream of chakra into his system. Mū’s eyes snapped open in surprise. How could he have forgotten about these two fools?
At that same moment, the Yatagarasu Crow perched on his shoulder began channeling chakra into him as well.
In an instant, Mū’s reserves were fully restored. The familiar sensation of Sage Mode returned, flooding through his system.
Mū clenched his fist. He was ready.
Now he had three options for counterattack: the Yata Mirror, the Totsuka Blade, and Particle Style.
The Yata Mirror? Useless in this scenario. It might survive the impact, but Mū himself wouldn’t. The mirror could only defend so much.
The Totsuka Blade? No good either. It was too short. He wouldn’t survive long enough to initiate a sealing strike.
That left only one option—Particle Style/Dust Release.
He would pour everything he had into one massive-scale Dust Release technique. With Sage Mode amplifying his power and his chakra replenished, he was confident. It might not kill Hashirama outright, but it could destroy the giant statue before it crushed them all.
As the colossal wooden hands began to descend, Mū wasted no time. He summoned a clone immediately. The two of them clapped their hands together in perfect synchrony.
“Sage Art: Particle Style: Double Original Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique!!!”
Twin beams of five-colored black light erupted from their palms. They surged across the battlefield, tearing through the air as they closed in on Hashirama’s monstrous creation.
Vrrrrrrrrrrr—!!!
Wherever the Particle Style beams passed, space twisted violently. Matter disintegrated on a molecular level, stripped down to nothingness.
The twin beams struck the True Several Thousand Hands with a deafening crash. Thunder rolled through the sky as the collision released a torrent of raw energy, swirling and tearing through everything in the vicinity.
Boom boom boom!!!
Hashirama furrowed his brow as he pushed even more chakra into the wooden colossus, reinforcing its structure and power.
But Mū, with Sage Mode active and his chakra bolstered by allies, held nothing back. The Particle Style didn’t retreat in the slightest. It roared forward with unwavering force, matching the strength of Hashirama’s colossal jutsu head-on.
The entire sky blazed as if touched by the sun, illuminated by the sheer force of their clash. Behind the two titans, the Allied Shinobi Forces stood rooted in place, stunned into silence. Their mouths hung open, eyes wide with disbelief and awe.
Was this really a shinobi battle?
Weren’t ninja fights supposed to involve a few well-timed jutsu, a kunai tossed at the right moment, or maybe a flurry of shuriken exchanged between opponents?
Then what in the world was this?
This wasn’t a battle, it felt like alien warfare.
“Ahhhhhh!!!!”
“AAAHHHHHH!!!!”
Mū pushed his chakra output even further, blood bursting from his mouth, yet he continued pouring power into the Particle Style without hesitation.
Vrrrrrrrrr—!!!
Vrrrrrrrrr—!!!
Hashirama’s eyes widened as he watched the blinding beams of black light drawing ever closer.
Not good. This guy’s Particle Style isn’t something I can overwhelm with sheer numbers... that piercing power is insane. If I don’t strike at the source...
But it was too late.
Mū had already funneled every last ounce of his energy into the attack. In the next instant, a deafening explosion tore through the battlefield.
The shockwave temporarily deafened everyone in the area.
The blinding flash washed out their vision completely.
And when the brilliance and chaos faded—
The massive Buddha still stood, but it was a shattered echo of its former glory. The base had been obliterated, and countless arms were gone, torn away by the Particle Style. A massive hole had been blasted clean through its chest.
“Hah... hah... hah...”
Hashirama knelt atop the wooden giant’s head, panting heavily. His limbs trembled. This time, his chakra truly was drained. Maintaining the True Several Thousand Hands had consumed almost everything he had left.
On Mū’s side, things weren’t much better. He was barely standing, his light-gray wrappings drenched in blood. His clone had long since disappeared, overused and dismissed by necessity.
“We can’t stop now!”
Mū gritted his teeth. He knew better than to let Hashirama recover. Without delay, he began forming a Rasenshuriken, or tried to. He quickly realized he didn’t have enough chakra left to finish it.
Clap.
A hand reached out, steadying his from below.
“Let me help.”
Hozuki Gengetsu, barely upright, gave a weary grin as he lent his strength to Mū.
“This time, I’ll let you hog the glory. Just make it count.”
“And don’t forget me!”
The Second Raikage stepped in, placing his hand beside theirs, flooding the technique with lightning chakra.
“The credit doesn’t matter,” Samon added as he placed his hand over Mū’s as well. “But we must be part of the victory.”
With their help, the Rasenshuriken began to grow rapidly. Stabilized by Mū’s expert chakra control and boosted by Water, Lightning, and Wind Release, the jutsu swelled into a monstrous form.
“Sensei! Lower it a bit! I want to help too!”
Ōnoki, standing nearby, stretched upward on tiptoe, arms flailing as he tried to reach the enormous jutsu. He hadn’t yet mastered flight and could only hop and strain, trying to contribute.
“Thank you... all of you. This jutsu... let’s name it...”
“Sage Art: Great Ninja Alliance United Rasenshuriken!”
Mū inhaled deeply. The Rasenshuriken now towered above them, perfectly formed, swirling with multicolored energy, stabilized and massive, infused with elements from all of them. It radiated raw destruction and unmatched precision.
“Hashirama Senju, take this!”
Together, the four launched the massive Rasenshuriken.
“Wood Style...!”
Hashirama’s pupils shrank. He tried to raise his hands and call on his chakra, to summon one last defense.
But he couldn’t.
His body was sluggish, his reserves nearly gone. Sage Mode had already faded, vanishing along with his great wooden construct. He had nothing left to fall back on.
And the Rasenshuriken, fully enhanced, carrying the weight of four Kage-level shinobi, was already upon him.
Too fast.
Too powerful.
In that final moment, standing in the shadows of the broken Buddha, the God of Shinobi had nowhere to run.
