Chapter 13: Utsusemi

"Ninja Art: Mind Body Switch Technique!"

Suppressing the grief of losing his comrade, Yamanaka Inoichi seized the perfect timing. His hands formed a rapid seal as he launched his clan's spiritual technique.

Yoru's body, mid-air and about to dodge, suddenly froze for the span of a single breath.

A single breath—ephemeral as it was—was more than enough for someone of Jiraiya's caliber to end the fight!

Even though, one breath later, Inoichi's eyes flew open in disbelief, blood gushing from his mouth as his face turned deathly pale—

Even though, one breath later, Yoru's eyes regained clarity immediately—

[Ding! Successfully completed A-rank target "Yamanaka Inoichi" Mission (II): Reward 5000 points.]

Even as the system notification echoed in his mind, Jiraiya's Rasengan had already slammed squarely into Yoru's chest!

Yoru was sent flying by the immense force, crashing backward into the forest. As he did, a swarm of kikaichū (Parasitic Insects) burst forth from the foliage, instantly engulfing and binding his airborne body in a living cocoon.

Jiraiya didn't hesitate for even a moment. As he landed and steadied himself, his cheeks puffed out.

"Fire Release: Big Flame Bullet!"

A massive torrent of flame erupted from his mouth, fueled by the oil generated through chakra manipulation—its power beyond conventional expectations. In seconds, both the kikaichū swarm and the bound body within were completely incinerated, not even ash remaining.

"Is it over?"

Akimichi Chōza, cradling the weakened form of Yamanaka Inoichi, stared solemnly at the scorched clearing.

"No."

Jiraiya shook his head, his expression grim. "He got away."

"The Shunshin Technique that guy uses is incredibly unique. Even with my kikaichū draining his chakra, we couldn't prevent his escape," said Shibi Aburame, adjusting the sunglasses on his face. "The moment Lord Jiraiya unleashed his Fire Release, that guy had already vanished. What my bugs captured… was just a piece of clothing."

"Vanished directly from within the swarm rather than breaking free…"

Jiraiya fell silent. That kind of method could only mean one thing—space–time ninjutsu.

But the fact that clothing was left behind during the escape? Clearly, he hadn't fully mastered the technique yet...

Still—

Even an incomplete space–time jutsu was space–time jutsu. The implications for war were enormous. Just look at his own student.

That boy alone had wiped out dozens of Iwagakure Jonin in a flash, severed the enemy's supply routes, and toyed with two of Kumogakure's top combatants.

Now imagine if this unknown enemy became that kind of threat to Konoha…

Just the thought made Jiraiya's scalp tingle.

"Cough! Cough!"

A violent fit of coughing pulled Jiraiya from his thoughts. He turned to see Inoichi, pale and dazed—clearly suffering the severe backlash of a failed Mind Body Switch.

That man… to break free from such a technique mid-fight—and inflict such a rebound on the caster—

Jiraiya's heart sank. If they couldn't take that guy down now, the next encounter could spell serious trouble.

"Chōza, Shibi, get Inoichi and Shikaku to Futada Village first!"

"Understood!"

A few kilometers away—

Having narrowly escaped death, Yoru continuously used Shunpo, weaving through the forest at high speed.

His condition was just as bad.

Though he'd used Utsusemi to evade the final kill shot, Jiraiya's Rasengan had struck him directly.

"Hsssss…"

Yoru clutched his ribs—sharp pain surged through him. At least two were broken. One had even punctured an internal organ.

And beneath the white bandage covering his right eye, fresh pain pulsed sharply—a sign that the Sharingan he had recently transplanted was already approaching its limit.

"Truly worthy of being the Legendary Sannin… and Konoha ninja."

Confirming he wasn't being pursued—and there were no kikaichū or tracking jutsu around—Yoru winced as he stopped beneath a tall tree. He raised his hand to his chest.

A soft, glowing light emanated from his palm, warm at first, then gradually giving way to tingling pain.

Moments later, he let his hand fall. The worst of the pain had abated.

"Using Kaidō to treat injuries like these is still troublesome… I'll need Hiromi to handle the rest."

Yoru had never specialized in Kaidō (healing techniques), spending most of his time mastering Hadō, Bakudō, Shunpo, Hakuda, and Zanjutsu—combat-centric arts from Soul Society.

Kaidō was support-only. He had only learned the basics.

After stabilizing his condition, he began heading back toward the Kirigakure encampment.

But before he could take more than a few steps, the forest ahead exploded with chakra—violent and overwhelming.

Yoru froze.

From that direction, he sensed several very familiar chakra signatures.

Jinpachi Munashi, Fuguki Suikazan, Kushimaru Kuriarare…

There was no mistaking it. These were the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. One of those chakra signatures belonged to his superior—he'd never get it wrong.

And if they were fighting—intensely, no less—and this was deep within the Land of Fire…

"Shit. You've got to be kidding me."

Yoru swore under his breath and turned around immediately.

What? Go help the Seven Swordsmen?

Are you insane? That's Might Duy over there—the man who turned the Seven Ninja Swordsmen into a comedy troupe with a single Dynamic Entry!

Yoru had learned his lesson during the clash with Jiraiya.

His combat skills weren't inferior to these top-tier shinobi. In fact, with Shunpo outpacing Shunshin, plus the strange, unpredictable nature of Kidō and his intel advantage, he could hold his own in close combat.

But winning? That was another story.

The problem was his body—just fourteen years old. No matter how far he'd pushed it, the bodies of top-tier shinobi had endured countless battles and chakra reinforcement.

And Might Duy—the man dedicating his life to taijutsu—was a different beast altogether.

You don't fight that. You run.

Yoru didn't hesitate. He turned tail to leave—

But before he could move, the forest in front of him exploded. A familiar figure with wild hair came hurtling out, crashing into the tree next to him with a thunderous impact.

Boom!!

That figure slammed into a stump right beside Yoru.

And his most beloved sword—Nuibari, the sewing needle blade—was driven straight through his own abdomen, pinning him to the tree like a grotesque trophy.

To be continued...