“Heh…”
Fugaku let out a soft chuckle and raised a hand, pointing toward the battered figure with the single crimson eye.
“Everyone!”
“The man before you is the mastermind who manipulated the Fourth Mizukage of the Hidden Mist for years and dragged the entire village into the hell known as the Bloody Mist era!”
“At the same time, he is the true architect behind the Nine-Tails Incident in Konoha!
The culprit responsible for the death of the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, and the destruction of countless innocent families!”
“The source of his power… is that mysterious Mangekyō Sharingan.”
Fugaku’s gaze swept across the surrounding shinobi as he raised his voice.
“To put it simply…”
“He can ignore all attacks.”
“Ninjutsu.
Taijutsu.
Genjutsu.
As long as he wishes it, every attack passes through him as though he were nothing more than a phantom.”
“Of course, no ability in this world is truly invincible.”
“His power has a weakness as well.”
“The instant he launches an attack—the instant he intends to physically strike someone—his body must become tangible.”
“And if you seize that fleeting moment…”
“You can truly injure him.”
“The slash I landed earlier is proof of that.”
He slowly spread his arms.
“So, everyone!”
“For the Fourth Mizukage, who was manipulated for years against his will!”
“For the comrades and loved ones slaughtered under the Bloody Mist policies!”
“For every humiliation and tragedy the Hidden Mist has suffered!”
“The time for revenge… has come!”
“…You bastard.”
Obito slowly straightened his body.
The horrifying wound through his abdomen had already healed without anyone noticing.
Hearing Fugaku’s speech, he almost laughed from sheer disbelief.
“You’re the first person I’ve ever seen who can dress up jumping someone as something righteous and heroic.”
“Oh, come on now.”
Fugaku casually leaned back against Mei, wrapping an arm around her shoulders without the slightest restraint.
His fingers even idly kneaded her shoulder as though he were completely relaxed.
“When dealing with someone like you—a monster who throws the entire shinobi world into chaos and treats human lives like dirt—there’s no reason to talk about fairness or rules.”
“A summer insect could never understand the meaning of ice.”
Obito snorted coldly, not bothering to argue.
“Since you already know part of my ability…”
“Then you should also understand this.”
He swept a disdainful glance across the Hidden Mist shinobi slowly surrounding him.
“With this bunch of trash?”
“If I want to leave…”
“Who here can stop me?”
“Then…”
Fugaku smiled faintly.
“Why don’t we find out?”
As soon as the words fell, he raised his right hand slightly.
The Blade of the Underworld Mire embedded in the distant wooden gate suddenly trembled violently.
The ancient black blade instantly shattered apart, dissolving into a torrent of thick black mud that surged back toward Fugaku’s hand before condensing once more into the shape of a long sword.
CLANG!
Then—
With a sharp twist of his wrist, Fugaku drove the blade straight into the ground beneath his feet.
“Secret Technique—”
“Abyssal Swamp of Underworld.”
“Enjoy.”
The moment his voice faded—
The world changed.
From the point where the blade pierced the earth, pitch-black mud erupted outward like a living tide of ink.
It spread with terrifying speed across the ground, swallowing everything in its path.
The plaza.
The camp.
The open earth.
Even the edges of the surrounding tents.
Within moments, the solid ground beneath everyone’s feet had transformed into a vast sea of rippling black mire.
“…What is this?”
“Wait—”
“Are we sinking?!”
The shinobi standing atop the black mire—whether from the Clan Alliance or the assassination corps—could all clearly feel a strange force rising from beneath their feet.
It wasn’t simple sinking.
It was a pulling force.
An invisible current dragging them toward a single point, as though a massive whirlpool existed beneath the swamp.
And at the center of that whirlpool stood Fugaku himself—face pale, leaning on his blade.
Everyone was being slowly, irresistibly pulled toward him.
To remain standing in place required constant effort and chakra expenditure.
At the camp entrance, Obito narrowed his lone eye, his Sharingan fixed on the mire beneath him and Fugaku in the distance.
He could feel the dragging force too.
But for him?
It still wasn’t enough to restrict his movement.
“Cheap tricks…”
He sneered inwardly and activated Kamui.
His body seemed unchanged.
But in reality, part of him had already shifted into his personal dimension.
The activation succeeded flawlessly.
That confirmed it—
Within this swamp, his intangibility still worked perfectly.
His absolute defense remained intact.
However…
The moment he tried to use Kamui’s spatial transfer to teleport himself outside the swamp’s range—
Something felt wrong.
Kamui possessed three core abilities.
The first: Intangibility.
By partially or completely shifting his body into another dimension, all attacks in reality would harmlessly pass through him.
The second: Absorption.
Drawing objects or enemies into the Kamui dimension.
The third: Spatial Transfer.
Once fully inside the Kamui dimension, he wasn’t required to exit from the same location.
He could freely choose another point nearby in reality to emerge from.
The distance had limits, of course.
But escaping battlefields or encirclements?
Normally effortless.
For years, he had toyed with countless powerful enemies using that overwhelming mobility.
But now—
The instant he attempted short-range transfer, he felt an unprecedented resistance.
A locking sensation.
The coordinate link between reality and the Kamui dimension was being distorted by the black mire beneath his feet.
Then he realized the horrifying truth.
Within the range of this so-called Abyssal Swamp of Underworld, he could enter the Kamui dimension from anywhere…
…but no matter where he attempted to reappear—
The result was always the same.
Either he emerged from the original location…
…or closer to Fugaku.
To put it simply—
Before this, space to Obito had been like flat ground.
He could move freely wherever he pleased.
But after Fugaku activated this bizarre technique…
Space itself had become a massive funnel.
And Fugaku stood at the center.
Coordinates could remain still—
But the moment they moved, they slid downward toward him.
For the first time in years, cold sweat formed beneath Obito’s mask.
Because he knew his own situation better than anyone.
Ninety percent of his power came from that eye.
“Damn it… if I still had my other eye…”
A fierce surge of regret and anger welled up within him.
Directed at a certain silver-haired man from the past.
If both of his eyes were intact, he could have broken free from this deadlock.
He could even have used Susanoo—
Summoned the divine weapon belonging to his own Susanoo.
But reality had no “ifs.”
“Attention, all shinobi!”
Mei’s voice shattered the brief silence.
“From this moment onward, battlefield command is fully entrusted to Senior Kisame Hoshigaki!”
“All forces will follow his orders!”
Kisame gave no refusal.
“All clans—form up by family units!”
“Assassination corps—support by squad formations!”
“Establish encirclement immediately!”
The Clan Alliance hesitated briefly before moving.
Soon, the alliance shinobi mixed together with the elite Hidden Mist assassins under Kisame’s command, rapidly splitting into twelve squads.
Layer after layer, they surrounded the lone figure standing in the swamp.
“Water Release!”
“Full power!!”
Kisame swung one gigantic arm.
In an instant, countless Water Release techniques roared toward Obito.
And the greatest strength of Water Release immediately became clear—
It required no elaborate synchronization.
No complicated combination ninjutsu like Konoha’s.
“Water Release: Great Waterfall Technique!”
“Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet!”
“Water Release: Wild Water Wave!”
Shouts erupted from every direction.
Massive torrents surged toward Obito from all sides, crashing together, merging, and exploding into a chaotic vortex of raging water.
There was no blind spot.
No escape angle.
Just overwhelming quantity.
Yet standing at the center of that devastation—
Obito didn’t even move.
“BOOOOOOM!!!”
The violent torrents passed harmlessly through his body before colliding with one another behind him, creating towering explosions of muddy spray.
The battlefield became a domain of destruction.
And still—
Obito stood there untouched.
Or rather…
The water never touched him at all.
It was as though he and the water existed in entirely different worlds.
“Kisame… what the hell is this ability?!”
In the distance, Raiga Kurosuki stared in disbelief, even rubbing his eyes.
He briefly disturbed his own chakra flow, worried he had fallen into a genjutsu.
But when he looked around—
Most people wore the exact same expression.
It didn’t matter how clearly Fugaku had explained it earlier.
Nothing compared to seeing it with your own eyes.
Dodging attacks?
Blocking them?
Tank them head-on?
Those they understood.
But completely ignoring attacks as if reality itself meant nothing?
That utterly shattered their understanding of combat.
“You ask me, who am I supposed to ask?”
Kisame let out a deep sigh.
“In any case…”
“This is the power of the Mangekyō Sharingan.”
“The Uchiha truly deserve their reputation as the strongest clan in the shinobi world.”
“If Fugaku-sama hadn’t already severely wounded him and used this swamp to limit his mobility…”
“…this ability alone would have shattered everyone’s morale.”
“Then what do we do now?”
“What do we do?”
A savage grin spread across Kisame’s face as he drew the massive bandaged blade from his back.
Samehada.
“Now that we know this is a Mangekyō ability…”
“And now that Fugaku-sama is using an equivalent ocular domain to suppress him…”
“What else is there to say?”
“We fight.”
He glanced sideways at Raiga and Zabuza Momochi.
“What?
Scared?”
“Hah!”
Raiga’s temper instantly exploded, lightning crackling wildly along his twin blades.
“In this world, aside from the Eight Gates…”
“There isn’t a single ninjutsu I’m afraid of!”
“Funny,” Jūzō grinned viciously.
“Same here.”
“All forces, listen up!”
Kisame roared.
“Conserve chakra!”
“Close in and engage in melee combat!”
“A ridiculous ocular ability like this cannot possibly last forever without a cost!”
“If nothing else…”
“We’ll drag him down through sheer exhaustion!!”
The moment he finished speaking, Kisame charged first.
His massive body erupted forward with terrifying speed completely at odds with his size.
Dragging Samehada behind him, he rushed straight toward Obito.
And with him leading the assault—
The Hidden Mist shinobi, already infamous for their brutality and bloodlust, fully unleashed their ferocity as they charged together.
Facing the Hidden Mist’s close-range assault, Obito Uchiha finally moved as well.
Countless attacks rained down upon him.
Yet he barely dodged at all.
Instead, he moved as though casually walking through clouds.
A step.
A tilt.
A slight turn of the body.
Every movement effortlessly avoided countless attacks.
At the same time—
Sharp brown rods streaked from his palms at terrifying speed.
Wooden stakes etched with bark-like patterns.
The instant they pierced Hidden Mist shinobi—
Screams erupted.
The rods came alive.
They rapidly rooted themselves into the victims’ flesh, greedily devouring blood, chakra, and life force.
Within moments—
The victims became withered corpses.
“Kisame!
Mist Technique!”
Kisame roared while wildly swinging Samehada, unable to land even a single hit on Obito.
As a veteran of the Third Shinobi War, he understood immediately—
This seemingly effortless gap came from the Mangekyō Sharingan’s perception.
The weakness Fugaku had mentioned?
Ordinary shinobi simply couldn’t seize it.
But battles could be fought in many ways.
Especially against an enemy trapped within a limited range.
Hearing the order, Jūzō instantly flashed backward.
Holding his blade one-handed, he formed seals with the other.
In an instant—
Dense mist swallowed the battlefield.
The sounds of battle vanished.
Shouts.
Clashing steel.
Breathing.
All gone.
That was one of the defining properties of the Hidden Mist Technique—
It absorbed sound.
And the chakra-infused mist also obstructed dōjutsu vision.
Meanwhile, Hidden Mist shinobi could still navigate and communicate within the fog through specialized methods.
“Kisame.”
Jūzō’s voice echoed through the mist.
“He controlled the Fourth Mizukage for years.”
“To him, the Hidden Mist has almost no secrets.”
“He can hear everything we say.”
“Even coded signals won’t help.”
“I know!”
Kisame’s hair floated wildly like demonic serpents.
Empowered by Samehada’s enormous chakra reserves, those strands transformed into terrifying weapons, launching toward Obito like a torrential storm.
And just as Jūzō warned—
Even blinded within the mist, Obito continued moving freely.
So fast that even Jūzō couldn’t react quickly enough to warn the others.
All he could do was watch as the endless mass of attacking hair relentlessly pursued the mysterious masked man through the fog.
“…I only needed him to lose his vision…”
Kisame roared into the depths of the mist.
“RAIGA!!”
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