Naruto : Blazing Legend

Chapter 45: Repel

The metallic taste of blood filled Kakuzu's mouth as he parried yet another kunai strike, the blade scraping against his hardened skin with a sound like nails on stone. Three against one—even for someone who had lived through decades of killing, the odds were grim. His muscles screamed in protest as he twisted away from Minato's lightning-fast assault, feeling the familiar burn of chakra depletion eating at his reserves.

'Should have taken the easier bounty', he thought bitterly, black threads writhing beneath his skin as his hearts pumped frantically to keep up with the demand.

The opening moments had been his—a perfect ambush that should have ended with three fresh corpses and a hefty payday. Instead, he found himself locked in a brutal dance of death with shinobi far more skilled than their ages suggested.

Lightning crackled through the air, and Gaku's scream cut through the forest like a blade. The boy's left arm hung useless, smoke rising from the charred flesh where the Lightning Style Masked Monster's attack had found its mark. The smell of burned skin mixed with the damp earth and rotting leaves beneath their feet.

But victory came with a price. Minato's technique was unlike anything Kakuzu had faced in his century of existence. One moment the blonde was meters away, the next he materialized beside the Lightning Monster with that spiraling orb of destruction. The Rasengan tore through one of his hearts like paper, and Kakuzu felt the familiar agony of death and rebirth as black threads scrambled to compensate for the loss.

"The Flying Thunder God Technique of the Second Hokage" Kakuzu's voice carried grudging respect even as he prepared his next assault. "I haven't heard that anyone has mastered it. Kid, you surprise me."

Speed had always been his advantage—in the original timeline, he'd overwhelmed even the famous Copy Ninja. But this? This was something else entirely. The boy moved like death itself, appearing and disappearing with the fluidity of a nightmare.

Minato's smile held no warmth, only the cold satisfaction of a someone who'd found worthy prey. "I know who you are. You're Kakuzu from Takigakure Village—the one who failed to assassinate the First Hokage and spent three days running from a Wood Style Clone like a dog with its tail between its legs."

The words hit harder than any jutsu. Kakuzu's jaw clenched, ancient pride warring with pragmatic survival instincts. That particular detail of his past was supposed to be buried, a shameful secret that contradicted the legend he'd built around himself. How could this child know?

"You're not simple to master Flying Thunder God," he admitted, forcing his voice to remain steady. "Tell me your name."

"Namikaze Minato." The boy's voice carried the quiet confidence of someone who'd already won. "My master is one of the invincible Sannin of Konoha—the Toad Sage, Jiraiya."

Of course. Kakuzu's mind raced, calculating odds and escape routes. The battlefield had shifted five kilometers from their starting point, and scattered across the torn earth were dozens of three-pronged kunai. Each one a potential death sentence, each one limiting his options further.

The smart play was retreat. Kakuzu had survived this long by knowing when to cut his losses, and nine million ryo wasn't worth dying for—no matter how much his pride burned at the thought of running again.

Wind Style chakra gathered in his throat as he made the call. His remaining Masked Monster unleashed a barrage of cutting winds, each blade sharp enough to slice through steel. The three shinobi scattered, diving behind trees that exploded into splinters under the assault.

Minato flickered forward, that damned technique making him untouchable. But Kakuzu had fought gods and monsters—he'd learned to adapt. Earth Style chakra flowed through his body like liquid iron, turning his skin into armor. The Rasengan that should have caved in his chest instead sent him skidding backward, his hardened body absorbing the impact.

"Rei, that guy's jutsu is too troublesome!" Minato's frustration bled through his usually calm demeanor. "Even the Rasengan can barely hurt him!"

"It's Earth Style!" Rei called back, dodging another barrage of attacks that left craters in the ground. "My Chidori can cut through it, but I can't get close enough!"

The dance continued, each exchange more desperate than the last. Kakuzu's Earth Armor technique kept him alive, but he could feel his chakra reserves dwindling. Every blocked attack, every regenerated wound, every breath—it all came with a cost.

Water erupted from the forest like a laser, Senzo's Water Breaking Wave slicing through trees like they were made of paper. Kakuzu threw himself sideways, but the technique caught him across the abdomen, and for a moment he was flying in two separate pieces.

Too close. His hearts thundered as black threads frantically pulled his body back together. Three centimeters higher and he'd have lost another heart—maybe the last one.

"Damn it," he snarled, his Masked Monsters forming a defensive perimeter as his body knitted itself back together. The process was agony, but he'd endured worse.

The covering fire from his remaining creatures bought him precious seconds, but he could see the writing on the wall. These weren't the fresh-faced genin he'd expected. They fought like veterans, coordinated like a pack of wolves. And that blonde—Minato—he was something special.

"It's too dangerous," Kakuzu muttered, making the hardest decision a proud warrior could make. "I'll take you when you're alone."

He absorbed two of his Masked Monsters, feeling their power flow back into him even as it left him more vulnerable. The remaining water-based creature turned to face his pursuers, buying him those final crucial seconds.

Ten seconds. That's all it managed before Minato's Rasengan tore it apart. But ten seconds was enough for a shinobi of Kakuzu's caliber to vanish into the forest, leaving only the echoes of his retreat and the bitter taste of defeat.

---

"Forget it," Minato said, exhaustion finally creeping into his voice. "Let's go back and check on the others. If they're attacked while we're chasing shadows..."

"Bastard hurt Daki," Senzo's hands clenched into fists, knuckles white with suppressed rage. The memory of his teammate's scream would haunt him for years to come.

"This guy is strong," Minato warned, recognizing the look in Senzo's eyes. "A single jonin really isn't his opponent. You have to retreat if you meet him alone."

"I know." But Senzo's voice carried the weight of someone who'd learned a hard lesson about the gap between confidence and capability.

Rei said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes. He'd been outclassed, pure and simple. All his training, all his potential—none of it had mattered when faced with a century of killing experience.

They found Gaku standing guard over Daki's prone form, the injured boy's face pale with pain and shock. The question in Gaku's eyes died when he saw their expressions.

"He escaped," Minato said simply.

The cave they found was barely large enough for all of them, damp and cold and smelling of bat droppings. But it offered shelter, and right now that was more precious than comfort. Rei's medical jutsu could only do so much—two broken ribs and internal bleeding required time to heal, time they didn't have but would have to take anyway.

As Rei worked, his hands glowing with healing chakra, the weight of their situation settled over them like a shroud. They'd survived, but barely. And somewhere out there in the darkness, a monster in human form was licking his wounds and planning his next move.

The battle was far from over. If anything, it had just begun.

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