As the situation continued to deteriorate, Ōnoki finally made his move. His muscles swelled, radiating the aura of a seasoned warrior. In the blink of an eye, he appeared behind Gaara, leaping high into the air and slamming his fist down toward Gaara's head.
Gaara's eyes remained indifferent. In an instant, golden sand enveloped his entire body, forming a protective armor that left only his deep-set eyes exposed.
Against Ōnoki, Gaara didn't dare be as casual as he had been with the Raikage.
He took the hit head-on, barely staggering back a few steps. Then, without a word, he countered with a punch of his own. Ōnoki caught the strike with one hand and was pushed back through the air, retreating beyond the boundary of the sea of sand.
Gaara made no move to chase him. Instead, he stepped forward, and the sand morphed into a massive serpent that crashed into the Raikage's chest. Blood spurted from his mouth as he was blasted backward, his fate uncertain.
Ōnoki couldn't help but speak up. "Boy, I heard you're the Fourth Kazekage's son. Why would you side with demons?"
To describe those who wield powers outside the chakra system, shinobi often used a single word: "demons."
"There's no why," Gaara replied inwardly with disdain, though his expression betrayed nothing. This Ōnoki still thought he was a pure shinobi? How laughable.
"The shinobi world is doomed to perish. If you want to survive, come find me. Come to my City of No Worries. I'll take away all your fears and burdens," Gaara's voice echoed in the minds of every shinobi, thick with temptation. Those whose wills weren't firm immediately began to waver.
"Don't listen to his nonsense!" Tsunade shouted angrily. "You all know exactly what kind of place that so-called city of peace really is. A city built by demons… it's probably just another hell!"
The shaken shinobi snapped back to their senses.
Gaara let out a sigh, as if disappointed.
"I offered you a chance to live… and this is how you repay me?"
"Enough talk!" Ōnoki bellowed. "The demons clearly want to wipe out both the Allied Shinobi Forces and the Akatsuki in one fell swoop! The fate of the shinobi world hangs in the balance—fight with everything you've got!"
As soon as he finished, Ōnoki brought his hands together, forming a colossal, transparent cube that he hurled directly at Gaara.
It was a massively enhanced version of the Dust Release—its power astonishing. Wherever the cube passed, even Gaara's sand vanished into nothingness. The expansion of the desert slowed dramatically.
Whoosh!
The Raikage, who had collapsed moments ago, suddenly sprang to his feet. His face was pale as he forced his way out of the encircling sea of sand. He cast a fleeting glance at Ōnoki—one filled with thinly veiled resentment.
Ōnoki was powerful. The moment he acted, the tide of battle shifted. But why had he waited until their forces had taken such heavy losses? Even in a crisis, he couldn't let go of his desire to suppress other villages. Did he really think he was guaranteed to win?
Ōnoki certainly believed so. With the Box of Ultimate Bliss in his possession, even if they lost, he could still escape unscathed. Not that he expected to lose in the first place.
The Dust Release began shredding through the sea of sand, pushing it back with each blow. Victory seemed almost within reach. But neither Tsunade nor the Raikage looked pleased. Ōnoki's strength had surpassed their expectations, and now a new question loomed: once the demons were defeated, what would become of Kumogakure and Konohagakure? Would Ōnoki become the next tyrant?
...Victory hadn't even arrived, and already the seeds of future conflict were being sown. Internal strife truly was an eternal theme.
Thin wisps of fog began to drift across the battlefield, so subtle at first that no one noticed.
With all the dust and smoke in the air, no one thought much of it—until the fog thickened and visibility dropped. Tsunade suddenly snapped to attention.
"This is bad… Sasuke's here!"
As if exposed by Tsunade's words, the fog dropped all pretense. In an instant, it expanded, transforming into a vast net that covered the entire sky.
The heavens were blanketed in mist. Every member of the Allied Shinobi Forces found themselves caught beneath it. Atop the clouds sat Uchiha Sasuke, arrogance written across his face. Billowing black mist swirled behind him as he looked down at the battlefield, cold and haughty.
"Your death has come."
The sand and the mist intertwined—touching either could injure or kill. A wave of suffocating despair began to spread uncontrollably. The shinobi forces, already fighting tooth and nail, now saw no hope at all.
"Don't waste time entangling with the fog or the sand—focus all efforts on eliminating the manipulators!" Ōnoki roared. "Kill Gaara and Uchiha Sasuke, no matter the cost!"
His words made sense—but the Allied Shinobi Forces didn't seem uplifted. Their morale had already been broken.
Driven by the encroaching mist, the battlefields of the Allied Shinobi Forces and the Akatsuki began to converge. No words were exchanged, but a silent understanding emerged—they would stand together, at least for now. They were all shinobi. Their differences could be settled after the war.
The Raikage continued coughing up blood. Mei Terumi grabbed him and pulled him back, narrowly avoiding a sweep of the deadly mist.
This decaying fog shared certain properties with her own Mist Jutsu, but Mei had no time to analyze the similarity—nor to admire any handsome faces.
The Raikage had lost an arm, and his chest was beginning to cave inward. Each heartbeat brought fresh agony. Still, he grit his teeth and showed no weakness. Only when Tsunade managed to spare a moment to use her Healing Jutsu did his pallor ease slightly.
The two battlefields finally merged. Waves of energy clashed and exploded into clouds of dust. Filthy, dark water collided with pristine sheets of paper; embroidered needles whirled through the air, entangled with mechanical puppets; and everywhere the heavy mist passed, it became a zone of certain death...
"Something's not right…" A flash of suspicion crossed Ōnoki's eyes as he scanned the battlefield.
"Where's the demons' leader?"
There had to be one. No way the enemy was coordinating this well without a commander.
But judging by the ones who had shown themselves so far… none of them seemed to be the one in charge.
A chill crept into Ōnoki's heart. The confidence he had once radiated began to fade.
He turned toward the Akatsuki's side of the battlefield. They hadn't even used their full strength yet. The man with the Rinnegan hadn't moved. The Akatsuki had taken heavy losses, and even suffered betrayal—but they still seemed to hold the upper hand.
Sasori of the Red Sand had engaged that sharp-tongued old crone. Konan was locked in combat with Beelzebub, her Paper Release techniques especially effective in this kind of chaotic terrain. Not far from her, Pain stood ready, guarding her...
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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