Chapter 300: The Final Charge

Before they could seal Hanzo, two sharp bones suddenly pierced the sealing shinobi's chest.

Their pupils shrank in shock as they collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

A voice came from behind them.

"This man serves Orochimaru-sama. He still has his uses. Did you really think I'd let you seal him away?"

After disposing of the two shinobi, Kimimaro turned to Mifune. "The general of the Land of Iron? No matter. Kill him."

He spread his fingers, and sharp bone bullets emerged from his fingertips.

"Ten-Finger Drilling Bullets!"

[Clang! Clang! Clang!]

A chain-linked scythe swung out, deflecting every single bone bullet. The weapon spun through the air before returning to its master's hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kimimaro's cold eyes locked onto Hanzo. "Orochimaru-sama's orders are clear. We're to eliminate as many enemies as possible."

Hanzo only stared at him coldly, silent.

Ever since his resurrection, he had felt like a hollow shell of himself—so he had chosen not to speak.

Just as Mifune had said… he was nothing more than a relic of the past.

"You…" Kimimaro narrowed his eyes, his expression turning colder.

[Crack! Crack!]

More bones erupted from Kimimaro's body, protruding from beneath his skin.

"Stand down!"

A voice echoed inside both their minds.

Hanzo's body jerked abruptly before going limp. The light in his eyes faded. His expression was now blank and lifeless.

Clearly, he had been forcibly controlled.

"Kimimaro, continue your mission. Hanzo is no longer a concern."

"Yes!" Kimimaro's eyes lit up with devotion.

He turned his icy gaze past Mifune—toward the remaining samurai.

"This is bad…" Mifune's heart pounded in his chest.

[Swish!]

Like a falling meteor, Kimimaro plunged into the ranks of the samurai with terrifying force.

[Bang!]

The moment he landed, a samurai was crushed beneath his feet. Without pause, he spun sharply, raising an arm.

"Dance of the Seedling Fern!"

Bone spikes erupted from the ground, impaling samurai one after another.

"No!" Mifune's eyes widened in rage. He let out a furious roar.

Countless bones shot upward, piercing samurai mid-charge.

In a single devastating move, Kimimaro wiped out nearly a thousand samurai.

For a brief moment, the battlefield fell silent. The surviving samurai stood in stunned horror—until grief was replaced by fury.

With battle cries, they charged again, splitting into two groups—one attacking the White Zetsu and Edo Tensei shinobi, the other rushing straight at Kimimaro.

"Pathetic."

With a mere sweep of his arm, Kimimaro cut down several samurai in an instant.

Now revived through Edo Tensei, his former afflictions were gone. His chakra was limitless. He was stronger than ever.

Then—

A flash of silver.

Kimimaro's instincts flared. He leapt back.

Kimimaro's chest split open.

Before him, Mifune stood, gripping his katana tightly. His expression was fierce, eyes burning with rage.

Kimimaro narrowed his gaze. "You?" He scoffed. "You're no Hanzo of the Salamander. You should already be dead. Instead of holding on to what little life you have left, you came here to die?"

Mifune's response was a single word—"Kill!"

He charged.

A lone warrior—yet his presence felt like an entire army.

His unyielding will reignited the spirits of his men.

The General still stood!

Fueled by his defiance, the samurai pressed forward. One by one, the Edo Tensei shinobi were struck down. One by one, the White Zetsu fell.

The sheer ferocity of their assault made both Obito and Orochimaru frown.

"Even after suffering such losses, they refuse to retreat?" Obito muttered darkly. "Mifune truly intends to die here."

Orochimaru licked his lips. "Had I known, I would've sent him out sooner. The casualties are becoming… excessive."

Obito's gaze sharpened. "You still have pieces left to play?"

Orochimaru let out a quiet chuckle but didn't answer. Instead, he turned his head. "Hizashi, have you found Uchiha Fūnan?"

"No." Hizashi replied in a calm voice. "The chakra here is too chaotic. Finding a single person in this mess won't be easy."

"True." Orochimaru didn't care and said: "Perhaps… Fūnan is already hiding beneath a samurai's armor, blending in with the rest."

...

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Mifune roared madly as he charged straight into the White Zetsu army, completely bypassing Kimimaro.

Their brief clash had already shown him the truth—Kimimaro was strong. Too strong.

This wasn't an opponent he could take down quickly. In fact, Kimimaro might even be stronger than him.

So, he abandoned the fight.

Instead, he turned his blade on the enemy soldiers.

Alone, Kimimaro wouldn't dare storm Konoha. No matter how powerful an individual was, unless they reached Uchiha Funan's level, they would eventually fall when facing overwhelming numbers.

That was why, when Obito and Orochimaru attacked Konoha, they relied on hordes of White Zetsu and reanimated soldiers to cover them.

In the original timeline, the Second Tsuchikage, the Second Mizukage, the Third Raikage, and the Fourth Kazekage—all formidable shinobi—attacked alone, without support. And in the end, they were sealed away.

To Funan, that was complete nonsense.

If they had just a few thousand ordinary shinobi backing them up, would the Allied Shinobi Forces have been able to seal them?

Not a chance.

They lost because they fought alone. That gave the enemy time to analyze their techniques, develop countermeasures, and eventually seal them away.

Obito and Orochimaru weren't about to make the same mistake.

Their strategy was simple: mix the reanimated shinobi with the White Zetsu, blending them among their strongest fighters. A battlefield so chaotic that no one could tell who was who.

That was why Mifune ignored Kimimaro and charged straight into the White Zetsu horde.

"If my life can take a thousand of them down, so be it!"

A sharp arc of sword energy flashed, slicing through several White Zetsu—and even a reanimated shinobi.

At that moment, Mifune's aura surged to its peak. Like a god of war, he tore through the enemy ranks.

His furious battle cries reached his fellow samurai.

And they roared in response.

Then, they charged.

"If we must die, let's take as many of them with us as we can!"

"Kill!"

"Samurai, show them our strength!"

They abandoned their own battles and threw themselves into the White Zetsu army.

By this point, only around two thousand samurai remained.

That wasn't nearly enough to hold the enemy back for long.

But what did it matter?

They were already as good as dead.

No need for tactics.

No need for strategy.

Just kill.

They were the last samurai.

And they would make sure the world never forgot them.

With one final charge, they cut down White Zetsu after White Zetsu.

They hacked apart the reanimated shinobi, scattering their limbs across the battlefield.

They didn't even spare them a second glance, letting their bodies regenerate.

They fought drenched in blood.

Even as their comrades fell at their feet, even as their own arms and legs were severed from their bodies, they never hesitated.

Kill.

Keep killing.

"You bastards!" Obito was furious.

The White Zetsu casualties were skyrocketing past his limit.

Sure, the samurai were dying too, but what did that matter to him?

His only concern was his own forces.

"Orochimaru!"

"You can shout all you want," Orochimaru replied without even looking at him, his voice calm. "This is their final stand. What do you expect me to do? The reanimated shinobi are already fighting. Do you want me to personally step in?"

His tone carried a sharp edge of mockery.

Clearly, he thought Obito had lost his composure.

But there was one thing Orochimaru didn't mention.

Even his reanimated shinobi were resisting him.

Somehow, the samurai's unwavering resolve, their unyielding spirit, was affecting them.

Even the dead—souls that should have been numb and hollow—were starting to stir.

This was bad.

He didn't need shinobi with thoughts of their own.

He needed puppets.

Just like Kimimaro—an obedient pawn who followed his orders without question.

A dark shadow flickered across Orochimaru's face.

Orochimaru had mastered Edo Tensei, but even he hadn't fully unraveled its mysteries.

Too many unknowns.

And if he was being honest—he feared this jutsu.

Just as Uchiha Madara had once asked him— "A technique like this… aren't you afraid it'll backfire on you?"

Of course, he was.

That was why he always exercised caution.

Senju Tobirama…

The name flashed through Orochimaru's mind.

As the jutsu's creator, Tobirama must have known things Orochimaru didn't.

Too bad.

...

Mifune's sword cut through the air again and again.

His body was beyond exhausted.

He wanted to stop.

More than anything.

But he couldn't.

He knew all too well—if he stopped now, he'd never lift his blade again.

So, he kept swinging.

Over and over.

His entire body felt numb.

Finally, Mifune planted his sword into the ground and took a moment to breathe.

The battlefield around him was silent.

Not a single samurai left standing.

Only White Zetsu and reanimated shinobi remained.

They surrounded him, leering, but deep in their eyes, he saw something else—fear.

"Am I the last one?"

Mifune muttered under his breath. He scanned the sea of White Zetsu.

Then, he grinned.

Satisfied now? You won't trouble the Land of Iron anymore, will you?

That should be enough.

Mifune pulled his katana free.

The sudden movement made him stumble.

His body was screaming for rest.

His wounds—too many to count.

He had lost so much blood that his vision blurred.

"Come on, then!"

With one last battle cry, Mifune swung his katana—

And it shattered.

He exhaled.

"Now… I am truly a samurai."

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