Chapter 27

A torrent of raw energy surged toward Itachi, wild and unforgiving.

His once-bright eyes had dulled, their clarity clouded under the immense pressure.

Staring down the devastating power of the Tailed Beast Ball, he forced out every last drop of his chakra. He clutched the sacred Yata no Kagami and was enveloped in the skeletal armor of Susanoo—renowned as the ultimate defense.

And yet, before the might of a tailed beast's concentrated attack, his figure looked as fragile as a leaf in a storm.

Behind him, Juzo could sense the overwhelming chakra fluctuations, but the intensity distorted his perception. Unable to discern what was happening beyond, he focused entirely on the enemies before him.

With unwavering determination, Juzo charged one of them head-on.

He needed to eliminate this obstacle—fast—so he could return to Itachi's side. Because no matter how strong Itachi was, Juzo remembered all too well how half a year ago, when Itachi had first awakened that terrifying power, he could barely maintain it for long before his chakra drained completely.

Only six months had passed since then. How much stronger could he possibly be?

Not far away, Obito stood silently on a high tree branch, watching the giant crimson figure with its glowing shield.

His expression was a complex mix of emotions, but somewhere beneath the turmoil, there was a trace of relief.

"So this… is your weakness?"

"Why are you trying so hard?"

"You weren't like this before…"

He whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

On the opposite side of the battlefield, a figure slowly rose from the ground.

"Uchiha Itachi…"

Zetsu's voice was low and serious as his gaze landed on the shield held by Susanoo. After a brief glance in Obito's direction, he vanished beneath the earth once more.

A brilliant flash erupted on the battlefield.

The moment had arrived—attack and defense collided.

"Looks like Juzo isn't the only one too stubborn to die."

The Tailed Beast Bomb slammed into the shield. There wasn't even a ripple on its surface.

Then—BOOM.

The blast erupted in a thunderous explosion that shook the earth like an earthquake.

Itachi remained motionless, his face grim.

The Yata no Kagami in Susanoo's grasp had turned faint—almost transparent.

Though the divine mirror possessed unmatched defensive abilities, it also demanded tremendous chakra. Every time it nullified damage, more energy was drained to activate its properties.

After all, it was a spiritual weapon, not a tangible one.

Now, the explosion's full force had been absorbed by Itachi alone. The Yata no Kagami reverted to its passive form, now hanging at Susanoo's waist like a ghostly relic.

Though seemingly uninjured, his eyelids drooped again, and the world around him blurred.

Twin streams of blood flowed from his eyes, harsh and crimson.

Sensing weakness, Yagura dropped to all fours and launched forward.

His beast-like form, driven by rage and instinct, moved with primal savagery. He looked ready to shatter the Susanoo remnant with one fatal strike—and kill the exhausted shinobi inside.

Itachi stared ahead, silent.

His Mangekyō Sharingan turned slowly—grinding on like a stubborn gear, refusing to give up.

His life force ebbed quickly, but he still stood.

This was a final gamble. Yagura, now lost in his tailed-beast rage, couldn't be subdued with Tsukuyomi. His chakra had become almost tangible, a cloak of wrath incarnate.

Then Itachi moved—quiet as a breeze.

His Susanoo had shattered, dissipating into drifting fragments.

Within the enhanced perception of his Mangekyō, Yagura's charge looked sluggish.

Their distance closed rapidly. Itachi's body, weak though it was, moved with calm precision, while inside, his heart churned with wild determination.

Time itself seemed to pause. Even the falling leaves froze mid-air.

And then—it happened.

His Sharingan stopped spinning.

Reality blurred and twisted. Itachi had entered Yagura's mind—or perhaps his soul. A world of nothingness greeted him, dark and endless.

And within it—a colossal red lantern flickered to life.

He exhaled slowly. He knew. He had succeeded.

Like an ancient strategist executing a flawless reversal, Itachi used the timeless tactic: strike the core, end the battle.

Had he failed, Yagura would've obliterated him without a second thought.

"So you hate that I'm changing the future?"

"Then let the storm rage even harder."

His life force ignited in one final surge, fueling the Mangekyō with everything he had.

The red lantern morphed, reflecting the intricate pattern of his Mangekyo.

Outside—Itachi froze in place.

So did Yagura.

The crimson cloak of chakra receded like a vanishing tide, revealing Yagura's battered body beneath—burned and confused, his eyes vacant and unfocused.

He didn't know what had just happened.

Step by step, Itachi approached.

An invisible force, cold and powerful, enveloped Yagura.

The tide had turned.

What Itachi had just done was unimaginably dangerous.

Yagura, still cloaked in the Tailed Beast's chakra, had already been under the influence of Mangekyō. His mind was consumed by rage and madness, and the beast's cloak only amplified those dark emotions.

Even Itachi was slightly surprised at how quickly he had entered Yagura's spiritual world.

But now that the gamble had paid off, there was a surreal calm in the aftermath.

"I've won... and I don't just mean the battle."

Itachi stood before the subdued Jinchūriki, his legs barely holding him upright. Slowly, he placed one hand over Yagura's stomach and whispered something inaudible.

In the shadows, Obito watched silently, puzzled.

What had Itachi done? How had Yagura fallen so suddenly?

By the time he registered the change, Itachi's pale hand was already pressed against Yagura's belly.

Obito didn't know what was coming next—but instinct kicked in.

His Mangekyō Sharingan activated reflexively. He was ready to step in and eliminate this unexpected threat.

But as a swirling vortex began to form around him, he hesitated.

The surrounding ninjas, who had fled from Yagura's earlier rampage, were now returning as the battlefield grew quiet.

Obito clenched his jaw, calming himself.

This wasn't the time to reveal his hand. If he exposed himself now, everything—his entire plan—would spiral out of control.

Still, unwilling to yield, he reasserted his grip on Yagura's mind, clinging to control like a drowning man.

He knew the battle was lost, but he wasn't ready to surrender Kirigakure. Not yet.

Not the village that had taken Rin.

For a moment, a flicker of Obito's Mangekyo appeared in Yagura's eyes.

But then—a glare from Itachi, close and unwavering—snapped Yagura out of it again.

And Itachi's hand plunged into Yagura's stomach.

Not piercing flesh—but into another space entirely.

From within, he drew out a swirling orb of blue chakra surrounding a small, thorn-covered turtle with three flat tails: Isobu, the Three-Tails.

Still under immense spiritual pressure, Isobu looked visibly subdued.

"I really just reached into his stomach and pulled that out..."

The absurdity of the moment flickered through Itachi's mind for the briefest second—but there was no time to dwell.

Forming a one-handed seal, he muttered:

"Fūinjutsu: Transfer Seal."

Seals, like squirming tadpoles, manifested across Isobu's form and began wrapping around him.

Then, lifting his shirt slightly, Itachi brought the small creature close to his bare abdomen.

Chains of sealing energy emerged from his skin, latching onto Isobu—and dragged the beast inside.

The glowing runes faded.

Itachi's stomach returned to its original, smooth appearance. Calm. Untouched. Almost unreal.

"Mizukage-sama...!"

The KiriShinobi finally arrived—too late, like cops in a movie after the final shootout.

Yagura lay motionless on the ground, staring at the dirt beneath him, his life force slipping away.

His consciousness returned, if only briefly.

He looked up at the boy standing over him, backlit by the golden light of the setting sun. To Yagura, Itachi looked almost ethereal.

"Thank you..."

Memories flooded back—fragments of horror, guilt, and confusion.

He didn't know how to face his people again, not after what he'd done.

Even if it had been under genjutsu, the damage was real.

The title of Mizukage wasn't just a rank. It carried the weight of an entire village's faith.

Yagura's quiet gratitude startled Itachi.

Inside the spiritual space where Isobu now dwelled, the young shinobi stared at the sealed beast—his thoughts heavy.

"You were taken by me... and your old host is dying. Do you want to help him?"

Itachi's voice was soft, almost sorrowful.

Isobu stared coldly at the shadow of the boy before him, reflecting on the battle, on everything that had come before.

"Let him die a warrior's death,"

"What waits for him in life is nothing but endless shame."

The beast's voice was calm—but its words hit like thunder.

Itachi nodded wordlessly and faded from the space.

"You're welcome..."

He had originally planned to use a portion of Isobu's chakra to preserve Yagura's life—there was still time, after all.

But he abandoned the thought.

Not out of cruelty or indifference—but because of Juzo.

The man now approached from behind, bloody and battered, his eyes locked on Yagura with a complicated mix of relief, anger, and sorrow.

"Juzo... you're back."

Yagura's soft voice brought Juzo to a halt.

Itachi glanced over at the man who had stood by him throughout the chaos.

He didn't speak.

He didn't need to.

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