Ōnoki's heart trembled the moment those arrogant words left Hatake Kyūjō's lips.
The trauma inflicted by the Hatake clan ran deep within him.
Aside from Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara—the two gods who once ruled over the shinobi world—there had been only one man who ever struck true fear into the heart of the Third Tsuchikage: Hatake Sakumo, the "White Fang of Konoha."
And now, another Hatake stood before him.
This young man... didn't look reckless or foolish. No one who spoke with such unshakable confidence could possibly be weak.
Could someone like him really say those words without the strength to back them up?
No—he couldn't.
Even without moving a single muscle, Kyūjō radiated a pressure far greater than his brother's ever had.
Ōnoki narrowed his eyes, glaring at the white-haired youth floating calmly in the sky, as if trying to crush him through sheer willpower alone.
Meanwhile, inside Kyūjō's mind, his Infinity Perception System completed its analysis of the Light–Weight Rock Technique that was keeping the Tsuchikage afloat.
The results flashing before his eyes made even Kyūjō blink in surprise.
When combined with Geppo, the Sky Walk technique he had mastered in another world, the Light–Weight Rock Technique produced a tremendous effect—turning simple flight into pure acceleration!
The speed, once barely near Mach 1, now soared to Mach 10.
Twelve thousand kilometers per hour.
Even on his old world—Earth—no aircraft had ever surpassed Mach 7.
Kyūjō exhaled softly, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. A ridiculous but entertaining idea flickered through his mind.
"Ōnoki," he said, his voice calm and unhurried. "You're quite an interesting NPC. Thanks for the gift—I like the skill you've just 'shared' with me. But even though I'm in a good mood today, I still need to give Iwagakure a lesson… so you don't forget who you're dealing with."
He crossed his arms.
"I'll give you thirty minutes. Evacuate your people. If you don't want them to suffer from what's about to happen, move them out of the village now."
A faint smile curved on his lips. "But if you think you're strong enough to protect Iwagakure, go ahead and try. Remember—you have half an hour."
Then he closed his eyes, floating silently in midair.
He wasn't bluffing. He was waiting.
Fortunately, Ōnoki wasn't a fool. Even if he didn't understand what Kyūjō meant by "NPC" or "skill," he could tell—this young man wasn't someone to provoke lightly.
Even if his power wasn't as terrifying as it seemed, his flight speed and aerial maneuverability alone made him a walking disaster.
For the sake of his people, and with logic overruling pride, Ōnoki turned back toward the village.
"Evacuate everyone," he ordered. "Now."
And so, the entire Iwagakure began to move.
Within minutes, civilians were fleeing to the mountains. At the same time, Ōnoki summoned every elite shinobi still in the village to assemble for battle.
Not because he believed they could win—
but because something deep inside him whispered that this man would change everything.
— — —
Thirty minutes later, Kyūjō's eyes opened again.
Below him, hundreds of elite ninja stood in formation alongside the Third Tsuchikage.
He gazed down with calm indifference. "Are you ready?"
The response was not words.
It was fire, earth, lightning—
a storm of Ninjutsu.
Hundreds of techniques lit the sky, colliding into one massive wave of destruction. Each attack was at least B-rank, most were A-rank, and among them shone one blinding white light—Ōnoki's Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique.
An S-rank jutsu capable of erasing matter itself.
Yet in the face of that apocalyptic barrage, Hatake Kyūjō only smiled.
Finally. A real fight.
The lightning mark on his forehead began to flicker.
His Sage Mode activated.
And deep within, the primal force of his Colorless Haoshoku Haki stirred awake.
Power flooded through his body—raw, invisible, divine.
He spread his arms wide, voice echoing across the heavens, deep and resonant, vibrating through the very air for miles around.
— — —
"Feel pain. Reflect upon it. Accept it. Understand it.
Those who do not know pain… will never understand true peace.
From this day forth—
The world shall know pain."
Sage Art: Shinra Tensei!
— — —
What happened next would remain etched forever in the memories of every shinobi who survived that day.
Every Ninjutsu—every flame, stone, lightning bolt—collapsed before it reached him.
Three meters. That was the barrier.
Within that invisible domain, the air itself rejected violence. Techniques shattered like glass, breaking apart before even touching him.
Even the Dust Release—the strongest weapon of Iwagakure—was utterly nullified.
Then, the moment his chant ended, the Senjutsu lightning inside him flared, condensing within his Thunder Eyes.
A magnetic field reversed polarity.
And the world broke.
From beneath his feet, a colossal repulsive force exploded outward, spreading in every direction.
The ground screamed. The air itself trembled.
Mountains cracked open; the land peeled like paper. Entire layers of earth rose and folded over one another, creating waves of rock that surged outward like an ocean of destruction.
Within seconds—
the entire Hidden Stone Village was gone.
Iwagakure… erased from existence.
High above the ruins, Kyūjō floated silently, the wind brushing his silver hair, his expression calm and unreadable.
He whispered softly, his words carried away by the storm he had created.
"Let this pain… bring peace."
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