Without half of Kurama's chakra, Minato Namikaze actually lacked the proper means to directly counter a beast like the Three-Tails—massive, heavily armored, and built like a fortress.
And yet, leveraging the time-space capabilities of the Flying Thunder God Technique, Minato managed to use the Three-Tails' strength against itself—delivering a masterclass in tactical combat that ended in the tailed beast's defeat.
Even Yoru had to admit—this kind of timing? Truly worthy of the "Man Who's Never Late."
But now…
As the Three-Tails' chakra began to recede and the beast reverted to its Jinchūriki form, this weapon of mass destruction—this "strategic nuke" of the ninja world—was, for a fleeting moment, left in its most vulnerable state.
And Minato, the ultimate timing specialist, didn't hesitate for even a second.
Yoru—and everyone else on the battlefield—witnessed a moment that could alter the entire history of the shinobi world.
Before the tailed beast's chakra had fully dispersed, Minato appeared behind the host of the Three-Tails, guided by the mark of the Flying Thunder God.
To guarantee the kill, he activated Sage Mode—orange pigmentation flaring around his eyes—and his Rasengan shimmered with an almost divine brilliance.
"Sage Art: Rasengan!"
"No!!"
As the last traces of tailed beast chakra dissipated, the Sage-powered Rasengan slammed violently into the Jinchūriki's back.
At that very moment—
A howl of pure anguish and fury erupted from across the battlefield.
A boy in tattered black robes, face hidden behind a white mask with one exposed eye, charged into the fray, screaming.
His gaze locked on the girl now coughing up blood from the Rasengan's impact, her body tumbling helplessly through the air.
"Rin…? Why… is it you…?"
Minato froze in place, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Rin… Rin…"
Beneath Yoru, Kakashi's confusion vanished.
His eyes went wide. Disbelief overtook him.
Sensei… killed Rin…?
It was as if time stopped.
Two pairs of Sharingan—on two very different people—spun violently. And with the rise of a cold, suffocating chakra, both sets of tomoe began to shift.
The evolution began.
Mangekyō Sharingan.
"That chakra…!"
Yoru, still seated on Kakashi's back, felt the surge instantly. The three tomoe in his own eye—hidden behind his mask—spun rapidly.
"I had that chakra surge too… not long ago. So why—why didn't my Sharingan evolve into the Mangekyō?" His gaze fixated on Kakashi's eyes. "That eye was transplanted too—just like mine. We're the same."
He had the same grief.
The same chakra.
So why did Kakashi awaken the Mangekyō… while he remained stuck at three tomoe?
As Yoru struggled to understand, a sharp cry tore him back to reality.
"RIN!!!"
"RINNNNNN!!!"
A scream—part human, part monster—ripped through the sky. The boy in the mask howled like a beast, the sound shaking the entire Higashimatsuyama battlefield.
"Who are you?! Are you with the Mist?!"
A Konoha jōnin stepped forward, trying to engage the frenzied intruder.
But the answer he got—
Was thorns.
Twisting, gnarled branches exploded from the boy's body like living spears, snaring and impaling every Konoha ninja within reach.
Blood splattered everywhere. Even the moon above, veiled behind storm clouds, seemed to turn crimson.
"W-Wood Release?!"
"No way… Why do you have Wood Release?! Who the hell are you?!"
"That's the First Hokage's kekkei genkai…!"
The gruesome massacre immediately drew the attention of every Konoha shinobi present—including Sarutobi Shin'nosuke, who had been maintaining the Three-Way Sealing Formation.
Wood Release.
The same bloodline the First Hokage once used to bring the Warring States Period to an end.
And now it was manifesting in some unhinged stranger on the battlefield?
"He's completely lost it," Yoru muttered, watching Uchiha Obito descend into madness.
He rose from atop Kakashi and, with one clean stroke, severed the silver-haired chunin's head.
Ding! S-Rank Objective: "Kakashi Hatake" (Phase 2 + 3) — Completed. Rewards: 250,000 Points.
Ding! Enemy Jōnin eliminated. Bonus: 2,000 Points.
Even in his youth, Kakashi was worth as much as Jiraiya in terms of points.
That's the legacy of the Hatake line—powerful enough to go toe-to-toe with the Sannin even in death.
Pocketing the reward without hesitation, Yoru pulled out a prepared scroll and vial, dug out Kakashi's Sharingan, and sealed it with practiced ease.
"You bastard…"
Shin'nosuke's fury reached its peak.
This was one of their own.
The son of the White Fang.
The wielder of a Sharingan—one of Konoha's most treasured bloodlines—and this rogue was treating his corpse like a tool to be plundered.
"You've got time to glare at me? Maybe focus on that Wood Release monster instead," Yoru said calmly, not even bothering to stand.
He gestured casually toward the rampaging Obito.
"Sharingan and Wood Release in one body. The legacy of both Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha... fused into one freak of nature. That's who you should be worried about, not me."
"We'll deal with him," Shin'nosuke growled, "but you're not walking away either, Yoru!"
"Heh."
Yoru chuckled. With a lazy kick, he knocked Kakashi's headless corpse aside.
Then he drew Hyōrinmaru—his blade.
Frost bloomed from the edge of the sword, so cold it made the very air crackle.
The supposed S-rank barrier around him began to tremble.
And then—
Shattered.
"You—!"
Shin'nosuke's face twisted in shock. He'd known Yoru could break free… but this easily?
With barely a glance at the stunned Konoha ninja, Yoru looked to the distance.
Obito had gone berserk, charging directly at Minato.
Master and student. Grief and fury.
The tragedy was unfolding exactly as foretold.
But Yoru?
He wasn't interested in that anymore.
All he could think about…
Was testing his blade.
And racking up more points.
He raised his sword.
"Bankai…"