"Puff!"
Blood spurted out violently, staining the ground beneath him as Rōshi made the agonizing decision to sever his left arm.
In that moment, there was no hesitation. Survival demanded sacrifice, and the spreading black flames of Amaterasu left him with no other option. Allowing the unquenchable fire to consume his body would mean certain death, and Rōshi was not ready to meet that fate.
Pain surged through his body, sharp and unforgiving, as if his nerves were being torn apart. The act of cutting off his own arm sent shockwaves into his brain, momentarily clouding his vision and causing his breath to hitch. His entire body trembled as dizziness threatened to overtake him.
But amidst the haze of pain, something burned brighter—rage. His anger ignited like a volcano, erupting within him and banishing the fog of agony. His eyes, blazing with fury, locked onto Uchiha Yoruki.
Lava flames flared around his severed arm, cauterizing the wound and halting the relentless flow of blood. The sickly scent of scorched flesh filled the air, but Rōshi's focus was unshaken. Like a wounded beast, he raised his head, his gaze carrying an unyielding murderous intent.
At the same time, Uchiha Yoruki struggled to steady himself. His body swayed, exhaustion weighing heavily on him as he forced himself upright. His vision, still blurred from the strain of overusing his eye techniques, offered him only a distorted view of Rōshi.
Rōshi, now armed with the very kunai he had used to sever his limb, lunged forward with unrestrained ferocity. Blood still dripped from the blade, trailing in his wake as he charged at Yoruki. His movements were wild, fueled by desperation and the residual power of the Four-Tails.
Despite his blurry sight, Yoruki's years of combat experience honed his instincts. He immediately began to retreat, though his body felt sluggish. Reaching into the pouch at his waist, he drew a kunai to defend himself.
However, it became clear that Rōshi's speed was superior. While Yoruki had drained his chakra and eye power to dangerous levels, Rōshi had drawn on the Four-Tails' chakra. Even with his injuries, Rōshi's pace outmatched Yoruki's.
Rōshi swung his kunai with reckless abandon, the blade whistling through the air. Relying on sound and instinct, Yoruki raised his own kunai to block.
"Clang!"
The two blades collided, sparks flying as metal scraped against metal. Yoruki staggered, his energy nearly depleted.
Despite his weakened state, Yoruki retaliated with a swift punch. Though his movements lacked their usual precision, the fact that Rōshi had only one arm left played to his advantage.
The two engaged in a brutal melee, their physical strength the only weapons they could now wield. Each strike carried the raw fury of survival, neither man willing to relent.
Their fight devolved into a savage exchange of blows. Defense was abandoned, each willing to endure injuries if it meant landing a decisive strike. Blood splattered the ground as their battle escalated, their eyes wild with determination.
"Stop!"
"Stop!"
A thunderous voice cut through the chaos, halting the deadly exchange. Yoruki's blurred vision caught sight of a figure descending from the air, and another materializing beside him.
The voices belonged to none other than the Third Tsuchikage and the Third Hokage. Both had been observing the duel, and the life-or-death intensity of the battle forced them to intervene.
The Third Tsuchikage floated above the battlefield, his sharp eyes scanning the scene. His gaze lingered on Rōshi's severed arm before shifting to the black flames still burning nearby. Finally, his focus rested on Yoruki, and his expression darkened with murderous intent.
Yoruki had not only survived but had gravely injured the Four-Tails' Jinchūriki, a feat that clearly enraged the Tsuchikage.
The Third Hokage, however, stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Yoruki. His eyes, heavy with years of experience, locked onto Rōshi. A glint of steel flashed in his gaze—a warning and a promise.
"Sarutobi Hiruzen, do you intend to eliminate me now?" Rōshi growled, his voice low and menacing.
The Third Hokage did not respond immediately. Instead, Uchiha Yoruki's voice, strained but resolute, broke the silence.
"Third Hokage," Yoruki said, his tone defiant. "Get rid of him now. If the Tsuchikage wants to kill me, let him come."
As he spoke, Yoruki's Sharingan activated once more. The three black magatama in his eyes rotated slowly, though the strain of using his depleted eye power was evident.
Despite his determination, Yoruki could not fully activate the Mangekyō Sharingan. His earlier overexertion had drained him, leaving him incapable of utilizing the advanced form of his Dojutsu.
The Third Hokage shook his head, his expression softening slightly. "You don't understand this man's methods. In your current state, you would only throw your life away."
A faint smile appeared on the Hokage's face, and he added, "The Four-Tails' Jinchūriki has lost an arm. Next time, you will defeat him."
Yoruki was taken aback. In his experience, the Third Hokage had always treated him with a distant coldness, a product of the strained relationship between the Uchiha faction and the Hokage faction. Yet now, the Hokage's words carried an unexpected warmth—a sign of respect and recognition.
Understanding the wisdom in the Hokage's words, Yoruki reluctantly deactivated his Sharingan and nodded.
The Third Hokage then turned his attention to the Third Tsuchikage, whose face was etched with anger. "What now?" the Hokage asked with a smirk. "Do you still wish to fight?"
The Tsuchikage's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding audibly. After a moment's hesitation, he descended and placed a hand on Rōshi's shoulder. Rōshi, though seething with rage, understood the unspoken command and suppressed his fury.
The Tsuchikage lifted Rōshi and floated upward, retreating from the battlefield.
As they disappeared into the distance, the Third Hokage allowed his weapon, the Staff, to return to its dormant state. Turning to the monkey summon Enma, he said, "Enma, this one is in your hands now."
Enma nodded solemnly.
With that, the Third Hokage dashed toward the battlefield, leaving Enma to support the exhausted Yoruki.
"Good job, little one," Enma said, his tone surprisingly gentle as he steadied Yoruki.
For a moment, the cold and reserved Uchiha Yoruki felt a warmth spread through him, a feeling he rarely experienced.
The battlefield lay in ruins, its once flat terrain reduced to a scarred wasteland. Corpses littered the ground, their bodies bearing the marks of a brutal and merciless war. The air was thick with the stench of blood and charred earth, yet neither side wavered in their resolve.
Above the chaos, the Tsuchikage's voice boomed across the battlefield.
"Iwagakure, retreat!"
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