After stepping through the shattered gates of Harunobu's mansion, Antares advanced only twenty or thirty paces before coming to a stop. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of burning wood. He stood still, waiting—letting all the guards of the mansion gather around him.
He didn't bother hiding his presence. His calm stance and faint smirk made it clear—he was confident enough to face them all at once.
For nearly two minutes, only the ordinary guards and a few Kirigakure ninjas appeared, their formation tightening in front of him. Antares's patience thinned. His voice, low and edged with cold disdain, cut through the tension. "Where is Umihiko Hoshigaki?" he asked. "Is he such a coward that he won't even co out when his master's mansion is under attack?"
The words had barely left his mouth when the air suddenly split with the sharp whistle of sothing cutting through the wind. Antares didn't even turn his head. He simply lifted his right hand, flas bursting to life and shaping into a massive dragon-like claw. With a swift motion, he caught the incoming object.
It was a giant sword—its weight cracking the ground slightly as Antares's fiery grip tightened around it. "So," he said coolly, "you've finally decided to show yourself."
Without warning, Antares flicked his arm, hurling the massive sword back with terrifying force. The weapon spun like a blazing sawblade, tearing through the line of guards. In a blur of blood and steel, bodies fell—so sliced clean in half, others losing limbs or heads before they even realized what had happened. Only a handful managed to dodge, narrowly escaping death as the spinning blade carved a clear, open path through the courtyard.
At the far end of that newly ford path, a man stepped into view. He had shark-like features—razor-edged teeth, gill-like scars near his cheeks, and eyes that glead with predatory focus. Just one glance was enough. Antares knew imdiately who he was.
Umihiko Hoshigaki.
The strength in that single throw, the presence that rolled off him—it could only belong to one of the Hoshigaki clan's fiercest warriors.
The giant sword that Antares hurled ca spinning back toward its owner like a flaming teor. Umihiko Hoshigaki extended his arm and caught the hilt with a loud clang, but the sheer force behind the throw made his muscles strain and his feet skid backward. Each step he took cracked the stone floor beneath him, leaving deep fissures in his wake.
When he finally steadied himself, Umihiko lifted his gaze toward Antares, his sharp, shark-like eyes narrowing. "I didn't expect you, Antares Uzumaki, to be the one standing here," he said, his voice low and edged with surprise.
Antares stood motionless, his eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. "I ca here for two reasons," he replied calmly. "First—to destroy the forces under Harunobu. Second—to kill you."
(Ai image in the comnts area.)
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Umihiko's mouth. "So it's personal, then," he said. "Judging from your tone, I assu one of the Uzumaki I killed during the war was related to you?"
Antares's expression didn't change. He simply nodded. "Yes. You killed my uncle—the only family I had left. So yes, this is personal."
Umihiko exhaled slowly, almost thoughtfully, then looked past Antares toward the gathered guards. "All of you—attack him," he ordered coldly.
Though a part of him longed for a direct, one-on-one fight, he wasn't reckless. He knew exactly how dangerous Antares Uzumaki was. Let him burn through so energy first, he thought. Even a god bleeds once tired.
The guards, tense but obedient, rushed forward, weapons drawn, their battle cries echoing through the firelit courtyard as Umihiko tightened his grip on his massive blade, watching Antares closely.
Antares imdiately saw through Umihiko's sche and let out a low, disdainful chuckle. So that's your plan, he thought. But he didn't protest—this was, in fact, the best outco he could hope for. If Umihiko had chosen to face him one-on-one, the other guards would likely retreat once they witnessed his power. And after killing Umihiko, hunting down each survivor would be a tedious task. Of course, with Makima's crows watching the skies above, tracking them wouldn't be difficult—but why complicate things when everything could be settled here and now?
The guards began to charge, their shouts rising in unison as they rushed at him from every direction. Several Kirigakure ninjas in the backline weaved through hand seals, chakra surging as they prepared their jutsu.
Antares didn't move at first. Then, with a faint smirk, he let flas erupt around him, forming into a blazing, draconic-shaped armor that coiled across his body. The heat rippled through the air, warping even the light around him.
Holding a sphere of condensed fire in one hand, Antares vanished from sight. In the blink of an eye, he was among them—his movents so fast they blurred like afterimages. Each strike was brutal and precise; wherever the fire sphere pierced, flesh seared and internal organs burned away before the victims even hit the ground.
Screams filled the courtyard. Limbs were sent flying, heads rolled across the scorched tiles, and each swing of his arm left trails of fla and smoke in its wake. When clusters of enemies gathered, Antares hurled fireballs into them, the blasts engulfing two or three at a ti and leaving only burning remains behind.
The ninjutsu launched by the Kirigakure shinobi fizzled uselessly the mont they neared him—their water and wind techniques evaporating upon contact with the searing aura of his armour. The fire shell around Antares glowed fiercely, its design resembling the scales of a dragon, each movent radiating overwhelming, destructive power.
Within ten minutes, the courtyard had fallen silent—save for the crackle of dying flas. Antares stood amidst the carnage, surrounded by the charred remains of more than forty fallen guards. Only Umihiko Hoshigaki still stood, his expression dark and twisted with anger. His shark-like eyes burned with fury, but deep within them flickered a trace of unease.
Antares's breathing was steady, unhurried. His eyes were untouched by blood or ash, and there wasn't the slightest sign of fatigue on his face. He looked as composed as when he had first arrived—calm, unshaken, and terrifyingly confident.
Pointing his blazing spear toward Umihiko, Antares said evenly, "You were trying to wear down with these weaklings. That might work against an ordinary ninja… but don't forget—I'm from the Uzumaki clan. Our chakra reserves aren't sothing you can hope to exhaust so easily. That's just a dream."
Umihiko's eyes widened slightly as realization struck him. How could I forget? he thought, gritting his teeth. He's an Uzumaki. Trying to drain soone like him of chakra is sheer stupidity.
He knew well that Antares's strength was known across nations—the world itself acknowledged the na "Antares Uzumaki." A genius among geniuses, his chakra reserves were rumoured to surpass even the elite of his clan. Still, Umihiko's pride as a warrior wouldn't let him retreat.
Snarling, he ford a rapid sequence of hand seals, his chakra surging violently. "Water Release: Great Shark Bullet Technique!" he roared.
In front of him, water swirled into existence, twisting and condensing into the massive form of a shark with glistening, fluid scales. It lunged forward with a thunderous rush, its jaws wide open as it tore across the courtyard, the ground splitting beneath its sheer montum as it charged straight toward Antares.
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