Konoha’s Five-Element Ninja

Chapter 64: Caught Between a Rock and a Hard Place

The relentless winter downpour, the chaotic clash of metal, and the agonized cries of the dying had turned what was once the serene landscape of Akiyahara into a hellish battlefield. Both sides had been driven into a frenzy, their eyes bloodshot, hands gripping their weapons with a maddening intensity—slashing, stabbing, and killing until their own bodies collapsed from exhaustion or fatal wounds.

Yet, amidst this chaotic carnage, Hayama and his squad remained still, standing in tense confrontation against a nearby group of Sand shinobi.

Without hesitation, Hayama lowered himself into a crouch, his hands weaving seals at lightning speed before slamming them onto the muddy ground.

"Earth Release: Antlion Pit!"

The waterlogged soil churned violently, consuming a tremendous amount of chakra due to its moist consistency. Yet, for someone with Hayama's chakra reserves, the increased strain was barely an inconvenience.

A massive whirlpool of sinking mud erupted beneath the Sand shinobi, dragging their feet downward, threatening to swallow them whole.

However, just as quickly, a massive stone pillar shot up from the earth, lifting the trapped Sand shinobi out of danger—countering Hayama's technique with an efficient, well-practiced response.

Having fought against the Stone shinobi in previous conflicts, the Sand ninjas had already devised counters for such earth-based entrapment techniques. The deadly Antlion Pit—which had once reaped lives so easily—was no longer an instant death sentence.

Of course, Hayama had anticipated this.

He never relied on just one attack.

"Detonate!"

To Fugaku's horror, the vividly colored chakra that had subtly seeped out of Hayama's body suddenly compressed violently around the Sand shinobi—before bursting into an explosive inferno.

The resulting wave of fire didn't just spread aimlessly—it behaved almost intelligently, shifting fluidly and constricting around its targets like a living creature before engulfing them completely.

Fugaku instinctively inhaled sharply, his expression betraying his disbelief.

Even though he had already witnessed Hayama's bizarre techniques before, seeing chakra manipulated with such precision and explosive force continued to defy his understanding of jutsu.

"How the hell does he do it?"

It wasn't just the sheer scale of the attack that unsettled Fugaku—it was the impossibility of it.

How could chakra, a mystical but inherently unstable energy, be so finely controlled?

How could Hayama manifest large-scale fire jutsu without seals?

Even the Sharingan, with all its analytical prowess, failed to decipher the mechanics of this technique.

Yet, even Hayama himself didn't fully understand it.

He had merely discovered that the chakra extracted from his heart had a unique property, allowing it to be molded, compressed, and detonated with unparalleled efficiency.

And that was all that mattered.

With a satisfied smirk, Hayama drew his short blade, channeling chakra along its edge, then vanished in a burst of lightning.

Fugaku, catching onto his movement, flashed forward as well.

Despite the spectacular fire jutsu, the Sand shinobi weren't easily defeated—they had reacted quickly and managed to evade the brunt of the flames.

One of them, a veteran-looking shinobi, had just landed from his desperate escape—his breath ragged, but his posture still battle-ready.

And then he heard it.

A shrill, crackling sound—like a thunderclap forming right behind him.

His blood ran cold.

But even before he could turn his head, the flash of silver in his peripheral vision told him everything he needed to know.

A blade, slick with rain and lightning, pierced through his heart.

"Guh—!"

The shinobi barely managed to register the pain before his body went completely numb.

His pupils contracted as he tried to process the unbelievably clean, efficient kill.

Hayama's voice whispered against his ear.

"Too slow."

With a quick flick, Hayama twisted the blade, tearing the man's heart apart, before viciously kicking his corpse away—pulling his weapon free in a single, fluid motion.

Blood splattered over Hayama's face, yet rather than flinch, he slowly ran his tongue along his lips, tasting the warm, metallic tang.

His eyes gleamed with something unsettling.

Something primal.

The other Sand shinobi stared in horror.

"Damn you! I'll kill you!"

"Jie-nii!!"

Their grief-stricken battle cries rang out—raw, unrestrained rage twisting their expressions.

Yet Hayama remained unfazed.

Hatred was nothing new.

Every ninja, from every nation, had their own grievances, their own long cycle of vengeance.

That was simply the way of this world.

---

With their puppeteer dead, the remaining Sand shinobi quickly fell apart, unable to counter the relentless assaults of Hayama and Fugaku.

One by one, they were slaughtered—until not a single one was left standing.

Yet even with their forces crumbling, the Sand shinobi refused to surrender.

Hayama found it odd.

They had already lost the battle—so why were they still clinging to their mission?

Were these shinobi personal enemies of the Kazekage?

Then, as if answering his question—

A red flare shot into the sky.

Hayama's heart sank instantly.

The flare's location—

The refugee convoy.

The moment the lead Sand shinobi saw the signal, he burst into raucous laughter, his expression twisting into triumph.

"Hahaha! Hatake Sakumo, they call you the White Fang of Konoha—yet you're nothing but a brainless thug!"

Konoha's shinobi bristled in anger, weapons poised to end this fool's life, but Sakumo raised a hand, stopping them cold.

"Rain Shinobi?" he asked evenly.

The Sand shinobi sneered. "You finally get it?"

Sakumo's expression darkened.

If the Rain shinobi had intervened, that could only mean—

The refugee convoy had fallen into enemy hands.

Despite the heavy downpour, a sense of suffocating pressure settled over the battlefield.

"Shall we negotiate, then, White Fang?" the Sand shinobi mocked.

"Negotiate?" Sakumo's voice was icy. "If you're surrendering, we may consider accepting."

The Sand shinobi grinned maliciously.

"Let's not kid ourselves. The Rain nin now control the refugees. The question is—are you willing to trade?"

Sakumo's brows furrowed deeply.

This was far worse than expected.

He had assumed the Rain shinobi would remain neutral—perhaps interfering only minimally.

But they had seized control of the situation entirely, using hostages as leverage.

Even if it was just one hundred out of thousands, the message was clear.

"If you persist in your mission—those hostages will die."

Hayama clenched his fists.

The choice before them was brutal—

Abandon the mission and fail the Fire Daimyo.

Or—

Continue the mission and doom innocent lives.

Sakumo exhaled sharply, his face grim.

For the first time in a long while—

The White Fang of Konoha was truly cornered.

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THANK YOU

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