Kakashi, too, seemed to have had some shackle severed.
Father, you were right.
If you can’t protect your comrades, then you’re the scum of scum.
Kakashi leaped back a step, his hands forming seals.
Krrrkrrrkrrr!
The sharp cutting sound rang out incessantly, like the cries of thousands of birds crushed together in a single mass.
Kiyohara watched from behind, observing the process of Kakashi condensing the “Chidori.”
“The Chidori, huh.
If I learned it, I could use it all the way to the finale.”
Kiyohara stared unblinkingly at the azure arcs of lightning that had already erupted.
If he had a Sharingan, he could steal the technique by watching.
Unfortunately, he didn’t.
“I’m going to avenge Obito.”
Kakashi said this to himself.
His left eye opened, revealing two slowly revolving tomoe.
The powerful dynamic visual tracking granted by the Sharingan allowed Kakashi to slowly make out the movements of Kakkō’s blade swings.
He could also see the speed of the “Chidori” in his hand.
From this moment on, the technique’s greatest flaw was compensated for by the Sharingan.
Or rather, techniques like the “Chidori” were, from the moment of their inception, tailor-made for the Uchiha clan.
“This brat’s speed!”
Kakkō frowned.
He decided to bring his blade down first.
As long as he could sink his sword into Kakashi’s neck before Kakashi landed his hit, the chakra gathered in Kakashi’s hand would disperse, defusing the crisis.
It was at that very moment that Kiyohara hurled a shuriken wreathed in swirling wind!
The shuriken tore through the air, propelled by the wind’s flow, far swifter than an ordinary one.
“Kiyohara…”
Kakashi didn’t turn back, but the only person who liked to infuse “Wind” release chakra into shuriken was Kiyohara.
And Kiyohara was the only one among them with such a means.
His heart warmed.
He never expected the guy he’d barely paid attention to at first to have helped him time and again.
“Damn it!”
Kakkō also sensed that someone was covering for Kakashi with a feint.
But Kakashi was too fast; there was no running away.
His best option was to kill Kakashi first.
But doing so would mean being killed by that shuriken!
In the end, Kakkō decided to shift his stance, letting the shuriken strike his arm to avoid a vital spot.
Then he swung his sword down at Kakashi with all his might.
Shhk!
Kakkō had still underestimated the speed of the “Chidori.” His blade was shattered by the blue arcs of lightning, which pierced through his chest.
At the same time, Kiyohara’s shuriken buried itself in his forehead.
With the two-pronged attack, Kakkō was dead on the spot—as dead as dead could be.
“Hah…
hah…”
Kakashi gasped for breath.
That last strike had nearly drained every last drop of his chakra.
He estimated he couldn’t use the “Chidori” anymore.
If he forced it now, he’d collapse on the spot.
But…
Kakashi braced his body and made his way to Rin Nohara’s side, looking at Obito buried beneath the giant boulder.
Kiyohara, meanwhile, went to loot the body.
According to Rogue Ninja Kiyohara, more and more Iwagakure shinobi were already gathering outside.
If he didn’t loot the body now, there’d be nothing left to loot later.
“What the—this is chakra metal?”
Kiyohara was surprised as he looked at one of the blades that had been snapped off from Kakkō’s weapon.
Chakra metal was a rare metal.
Although chakra could theoretically be infused into anything—even a pencil could be reinforced to produce the effect of a hidden weapon—
the quality of the infusion still varied.
Chakra metal could assist the flow of chakra, drawing out even stronger effects.
He then collected the broken blade from the ground, gathered the remaining piece still strapped to Kakkō’s wrist, and picked up the other intact blade.
“Can these be forged into ninja tools?”
Kiyohara said to Rogue Ninja Kiyohara.
To be honest, something as precious as chakra metal—Kiyohara had only ever seen it on Asuma Sarutobi, the landlord’s spoiled son.
That odd ninja tool resembling a punch blade with an extra edge attached.
As for Kiyohara himself, he had never seen, let alone touched, such an expensive metal before.
That little prince had been the richest among Kiyohara’s graduating class.
Back in his Academy days, he’d written an essay titled “My Hokage Father,” which supposedly even startled the principal of the Ninja Academy.
It made Kiyohara sigh—Konoha, or rather the entire ninja world, was nothing but one giant social network built on connections.
“It should be enough.
If we re-smelt it, we should be able to forge a sword.”
Rogue Ninja Kiyohara nodded.
Neither of the blades Kakkō had used had hilts—they were bound directly to his wrists with bandages, like sleeve arrows.
Kiyohara could melt both blades down into a longer blade, then simply attach an ordinary hilt.
“But hiring someone to smelt and reforge it will cost a fair amount of money,” Rogue Ninja Kiyohara said.
A shinobi’s training required money in every aspect, inside and out.
That was why civilian shinobi faced not only limitations in their natural talents, but more importantly, limitations in resources.
No access to sources of ninjutsu, no enough money to buy suitable ninja tools.
A shinobi could unleash far greater strength when using ninja tools.
Some kenjutsu masters would lose the majority of their combat ability without their weapons.
“Good thing I have a habit of looting pockets.”
Hearing this, Kiyohara sped up his looting.
He mused that he should get himself a better sealing scroll—otherwise, wouldn’t it slow down his money-making pace?
During wartime, the biggest side income for shinobi was these spoils of battle.
Relying on mission pay?
When would he ever pay off his loan at that rate?
“Kiyohara, there’s movement outside.”
Kurenai Yuhi suddenly spoke.
Even she had sensed someone approaching from outside.
“I know.”
Kiyohara nodded, stowing everything into the sealing scroll.
“Say whatever you need to say quickly—we’re retreating.”
Kiyohara looked at Kakashi.
Unless someone present was skilled in Earth Release ninjutsu, or opened the Eight Gates, moving the boulder off Obito without hurting him was nearly impossible.
“Kakashi, take Rin and get out of here.
The enemy’s…
reinforcements are coming.”
Obito looked at Kakashi.
His sense of pain was gradually returning—his brain had registered the loss of his body and was sending out warnings.
Especially his lower half—the pain nearly made Obito lose his composure.
“Earth Release: Earth Flow Divide!”
Just then, an Iwagakure unit arrived, hands forming seals as they unleashed an Earth Release ninjutsu.
Rumble.
The ground split apart instantly, dust and smoke rising everywhere.
Left with no choice, Kakashi cast one final look at Obito, then followed the others as they left.
“Kakashi, I’m entrusting Rin to you.”
Obito spoke his final words.
His body was gradually buried under falling rubble, sinking into the fissure carved by the Earth Release ninjutsu.
Everything seemed to be buried.
…
On the front lines, Minato Namikaze’s expression shifted slightly.
For every special kunai he had marked with Flying Thunder God, Minato Namikaze maintained a sense of their coordinates.
Now he could feel that something had gone wrong over there.
He needed to go.