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Thinking this through, he reversed his grip on the blade and slashed sharply at the air.
Hum!
The chakra-forged ninja sword in his hand emitted a deep buzz. A pulse of chakra erupted from his body, condensing into an invisible gravity wave that surged forward. It deflected all incoming shuriken and even disrupted oncoming ninjutsu, sending them hurtling back in reverse.
"Scatter!"
Aburame Togen, leading the assault unit, was the first to dive for cover. That was the problem—they hadn't been able to subdue the target precisely because of these evasive tactics.
In close quarters, the enemy somehow suppressed the flow of ninjutsu with a bizarre ability—like a localized version of the Aggravated Rock Technique (Jūryō no Jutsu)—rendering any victim as helpless as livestock at slaughter.
At long range, one swing of that cursed sword was enough to reflect even coordinated jutsu and projectile attacks back at them.
This enemy's technique—or perhaps a unique Kekkei Genkai—was too perfectly balanced between offense and defense. It was overwhelming. But now that the mission order had been given, they had no choice. They had to push forward and eliminate him.
Crack!
"What?"
Ye Dou moved to strike again, but the chakra-forged blade in his hand couldn't handle the load. It snapped.
He reacted instantly—slamming his feet into the ground dozens of times in the span of a heartbeat. Leveraging the explosive recoil, he launched himself backwards, barely dodging the next wave of attacks.
"As expected... Mortal steel cannot endure the power of the Devil Fruit."
That was why he'd been hunting for a weapon that could withstand it. While Naruto's world boasted a variety of masterfully crafted ninja tools, very few blades could handle the full might of the Gravity Fruit's abilities.
He discarded the ruined sword and rolled back his sleeve, undoing a seal on his wrist. With a puff of smoke, a second, pristine blade materialized in his grasp.
The Root ANBU pressed the attack, and Ye Dou began fighting a retreating battle, his eyes scanning the terrain.
"There."
He suddenly halted and slashed at a seemingly ordinary tree. A faint shimmer—nearly invisible—ran across a network of nearly imperceptible threads. A trap he had laid in advance.
"Captain, over here!"
Ye Dou's sudden halt caused the surrounding Root members to pause as well, attempting to reestablish formation.
One ninja, wearing a tengu mask, crouched low and whispered urgently to Aburame Togen.
"Something's falling... Looks like shuriken. No, wait—there's chakra embedded in them."
"Fool! That's shuriken and kunai—booby-trapped!" Togen snapped, his composed demeanor breaking. He hissed, "Everyone scatter!"
But it was too late.
Hidden shadow clones burst forth from all four directions—north, south, east, and west—forming a square formation that enclosed the Root operatives in a perfect seal formation.
All four clones moved in unison, rapidly forming hand seals. Chakra surged visibly around them.
"Ninpō: Gravity Field—Tenfold Pressure!"
"Ninpō: Gravity Field—Tenfold Pressure!"
"Ninpō: Gravity Field—Tenfold Pressure!"
"Ninpō: Gravity Field—Tenfold Pressure!"
---
[Gravity Execution Zone]
"Ninpō: Gravity Field—Tenfold Pressure!"
The instant the Root ANBU stepped into the trap zone, all four shadow clones triggered their seals. The chakra network erupted.
"Damn it—it's a trap!" someone shouted. "Fall back!"
But their bodies froze.
The gravitational pressure intensified like a collapsing mountain. The ninja closest to the boundary were crushed to the ground in an instant.
They weren't paralyzed—but under such force, their movements became sluggish, snail-like. Compared to the barrage of senbon and kunai raining down, they had no chance to dodge.
A tenfold gravity increase might not immediately kill a well-trained shinobi—but paired with incoming projectiles, it turned into a massacre.
Though Root agents were elite—Konoha's black-ops backbone—even they couldn't endure this deadly setup forever.
Red-eyed and desperate, those outside the trap launched jutsu and hurled weapons at the clones, hoping to shatter the formation and release their comrades.
But the four shadow clones held firm, unfazed by the flurry of attacks, suppressing the entire trap field with unwavering focus.
"Die."
A cold voice rang out.
Ye Dou reappeared behind the formation, blade in both hands. He swung through the air as though carving reality itself.
Suddenly, the projectiles—kunai, shuriken, senbon—accelerated.
Their descent was no longer gentle.
They became the scythes of death itself.
Shunk!
Shlunk!
Thud!
Blood erupted like a fountain.
The Root operatives trapped inside the formation were impaled by hundreds of steel weapons, all at once. Screams echoed through the forest.
It was a vision of hell—like a swarm of chakra-augmented wasps stabbing every inch of exposed flesh: eyes, throat, mouth, chest, limbs.
Scarlet blood pooled on the ground.
The Nanhe River ran red—transformed into a purgatory soaked in death.
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