The devastation at Torisaka Pass—and the unbelievable reports of Dust Release—reached the desk of the Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki, with all possible haste.
Inside Iwagakure’s command headquarters, the atmosphere was as heavy as iron.
“Those damned fools!”
Despite his diminutive stature, Ōnoki exploded with terrifying fury.
He slammed a fist onto the stone table, instantly covering its surface with spiderweb-like cracks.
The frontline commander had been killed.
Nearly a hundred shinobi had vanished without a trace.
An entire supply route had been crippled.
But what enraged him most…
Was that the enemy had used Dust Release.
His Dust Release.
It was an open provocation—not only against him, but against the legacy of the Second Tsuchikage, Mū, and the pinnacle of Iwagakure’s power.
“A brat from Konoha…
dares to go this far?!”
His teeth ground together audibly.
His weathered face twitched with rage.
He would not tolerate it.
He could not tolerate it.
“Prepare for battle!”
“I’ll deal with that brat personally!”
There was no room for discussion in his command.
He would make that arrogant child understand…
Who the true master of Dust Release was.
Meanwhile…
After finishing his work at Torisaka Pass, Yu made no move to return to Konoha.
Instead, he stood quietly at the edge of the vast empty space carved out by Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique, as though waiting for someone.
In the distance…
A powerful chakra signature rapidly approached.
Its nature felt familiar.
It carried the same essence as Dust Release—
Yet it also felt…
impure.
Aged.
“Oh?”
A faint smile tugged at Yu’s lips.
“So the real owner has finally arrived.”
He wasn’t surprised.
After destroying one of Iwagakure’s most vital strategic positions, it would have been stranger if they hadn’t sent someone important.
He lifted his gaze toward the approaching chakra.
Rather than waiting passively…
He preferred to meet it head-on.
He was curious to see how the original Dust Release compared.
Moments later…
A short figure descended from the sky, hovering opposite him.
The Third Tsuchikage.
Ōnoki.
Several elite Iwa jōnin floated behind him, each radiating murderous intent.
His distinctive red nose was unmistakable even from a distance.
Ōnoki stared down at Yu.
The boy looked absurdly young.
That only intensified the mixture of anger and disdain welling inside him.
“So…”
“You’re the brat who stole my Dust Release?”
His voice carried the authority of a man who had ruled for decades.
Hidden beneath it, however…
Was unmistakable shock.
He could clearly sense the lingering chakra throughout the area.
There was no mistake.
It was Dust Release.
And it was frighteningly pure.
Yu lightly pushed off the ground.
Using chakra to float through the air, he rose until he faced Ōnoki at eye level.
“Stole it?”
He chuckled.
“I wouldn’t phrase it that way, Lord Tsuchikage.”
His hands slowly formed seals.
The sequence resembled Ōnoki’s…
Yet subtle differences made it unmistakably distinct.
“The same technique…”
He smiled faintly.
“…is always fresher when I use it.”
The words were spoken calmly.
Yet every syllable dripped with supreme confidence.
No…
It was condescension.
Ōnoki’s pupils contracted.
Arrogant little brat!
“You’ve got a death wish!”
He abandoned all further conversation.
His hands slammed together.
An overwhelming torrent of chakra erupted from his body.
“Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique!”
A massive translucent cube instantly formed before him and shot toward Yu.
Its shimmering edges radiated annihilation.
This was the technique that had made him legendary.
The pride of the Tsuchikage.
He refused to believe that some inexperienced youngster could possibly survive it.
Yu remained completely unmoved.
He didn’t even attempt to dodge.
“Then…”
“Allow me to show you.”
His own hands came together.
The same technique.
Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique.
Yet the cube born from Yu’s chakra was fundamentally different.
It was larger.
Far larger.
It formed almost instantaneously, engulfing not only Ōnoki…
But also the Dust Release cube he had just created.
Its boundaries were denser.
Like solidified crystal.
Perfectly stable.
Overflowing with pure destructive power.
Then…
Something completely unexpected happened.
There was no violent collision.
No explosion.
No mutual cancellation.
The instant Yu’s Dust Release manifested…
Ōnoki froze in horror.
His own Dust Release…
Was trembling.
No.
Not trembling.
Breaking apart.
Yu’s cube advanced like a living beast.
It compressed.
Overpowered.
Disassembled.
And devoured Ōnoki’s Dust Release.
“…!”
Pfft!
The moment his technique collapsed, the backlash struck him directly.
Blood surged into his throat.
He spat out a mouthful before his frail body was hurled backward like a broken kite.
Boom!
He crashed heavily into the ground, raising a cloud of dust.
The accompanying Iwa jōnin rushed toward him in panic.
“Lord Tsuchikage!”
“Are you alright?!”
They hurriedly helped him to his feet.
Blood stained the corner of Ōnoki’s mouth.
His face had gone deathly pale.
Yet he ignored his injuries entirely.
His eyes remained locked on Yu as the young man slowly descended from the air.
Those aged eyes…
Were filled with disbelief.
And fear.
“Impossible…”
“This is impossible…”
His voice had become hoarse.
“Your Dust Release…”
“…Why…”
“…Why is it stronger than mine?!”
This wasn’t a minor difference.
It was complete domination.
A difference in dimension itself.
He had devoted decades to perfecting Dust Release.
He had believed he had pushed the Kekkei Tōta to its absolute limit.
Yet before this young man…
His life’s greatest achievement seemed as fragile as paper.
Yu walked toward him at an unhurried pace.
Standing before the wounded Tsuchikage, he looked down calmly.
“There’s nothing impossible about it.”
His quiet voice reached every Iwa shinobi present.
“Perhaps…”
“…you’re simply too old, Lord Tsuchikage.”
The words pierced deeper than any blade.
After a brief pause, Yu tilted his head slightly.
Or perhaps he was simply stating a fact.
“Or maybe…”
“The Kekkei Tōta you’re so proud of…”
A faint smile appeared on his face.
One that sent chills down every Iwa shinobi’s spine.
“…is only average.”
Only average.
Those two words humiliated Ōnoki more than any curse ever could.
The Dust Release he had spent his entire life mastering…
The very symbol of his pride as Tsuchikage…
Was dismissed with nothing more than “only average.”
His heart shook violently.
Another mouthful of blood spilled from his lips.
At that moment…
He finally understood.
Konoha had produced something that should not exist.
A monster beyond all reason.
Not only did this young man possess Dust Release…
His version surpassed Ōnoki’s in every conceivable way.
It could even consume and suppress Dust Release itself.
If this battle continued…
He might actually die here.
The war at Kikyō Pass.
The conflict with Konoha.
None of it mattered anymore.
Nothing outweighed the future of Iwagakure.
Nothing outweighed his own life.
Breathing heavily, Ōnoki gathered the last of his strength.
“…Retreat.”
His voice was little more than a rasp.
“Everyone…”
“Retreat immediately.”
“End the confrontation at Kikyō Pass.”
He had to return.
He had to reassess this impossible Konoha prodigy.
Iwagakure had provoked someone it never should have challenged.
The accompanying jōnin were unwilling.
But after witnessing their Tsuchikage’s overwhelming defeat…
And sensing the immeasurable power emanating from Yu…
Not one of them dared object.
Supporting the injured Ōnoki, they prepared to withdraw.
Yu merely watched in silence.
He made no attempt to stop them.
As his subordinates carried him away, Ōnoki looked back one last time.
That youthful face…
Would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Slowly…
He forced himself to look away.