Chapter 97: The Hero's Fall

When Shiraki returned to the mountain cave base carrying Kakashi on his back, Lin was busy trying to secure a large boulder to the rock pillar.

"This... the plot seems a bit off," Shiraki said, stunned. How could this dim-witted stone have been brought down by Lin?

"Whoa?!" Lin startled and spun around, her eyes landing on the bundle of white hair draped over Shiraki's shoulder. "Shiraki!? What's wrong with Kakashi?"

The girl hadn't yet recognized him as the clown from their earlier encounter.

"Excessive blood loss. He passed out," Shiraki replied, gently setting Kakashi down.

"Hmm!" Lin paid no mind to Shiraki's presence as she rushed to his side, beginning the treatment of his wounds. Of course, she couldn't resist asking, "What about Itachi? How is he?"

"His injuries are severe, and they're rather... unsightly. Fortunately, he was always kind-hearted. An old immortal who passed by found him and even offered to teach him his ultimate technique," Shiraki said with a touch of envy.

"Eh? Why does that sound so fantastical?" Lin sounded doubtful.

"Enough. I have other matters to attend to. I'll be going." Shiraki waved dismissively and left behind an illusory duplicate.

"Yo, Lin-chan, little angel, meeting again," the clone greeted, bursting with energy as always.

"Focus on the good deeds. Don't stir up trouble!" Shiraki warned his own duplicate.

"Don't worry, don't worry. I'm you—how could you not trust yourself?" The clone waved with a smug grin.

"I really don't trust myself," Shiraki nodded.

"Get going. I've got this." The clone had already crouched beside Kakashi, tugging at his mask. "Lin-chan, do you think under Kakashi's mask it's buckteeth or a sausage mouth?"

"I don't care about that..." Lin's gaze drifted despite herself toward Kakashi's face. She'd longed to see his true appearance for so long but had never mustered the courage.

The clone tugged harder...

"Tch... just a normal guy, huh," Shiraki muttered, disappointed.

"So handsome? (???ω???)?" Lin's cheeks flushed pink, a delicate rose color. It was a shame Itachi wasn't here—he could have drained his Sharingan just from the sight.

"Ah, Kakashi's clothes are dirty. Let's dress him in something nice." The clone turned to the task at hand.

...

When Shiraki reached Kannabi Bridge, he spotted from afar a massive toad hopping across the span, brandishing a forty-meter blade and slashing at the bridge's vines.

"Damn it, my blade isn't for splitting firewood!" Guy grumbled.

"Sorry... for dragging you into this," a voice replied from below.

Thick mist swirled beneath the bridge, blackened marks everywhere, and small rocks kept tumbling down. The Rock Village had bombed Kannabi Bridge, but Shiraki had reinforced the structure as ordered, so it hadn't collapsed easily.

Minato Namikaze was desperately hurling Rasengan after Rasengan at the supports. Each strike did little against a hundred-meter span. How long would it take to destroy the bridge completely, and when would the ninjas from Iwa arrive to harass them?

A cluster of Rock ninjas had already gathered near the bridge, along with supply carts. Without orders, no one dared step forward to die.

"Hahahaha, at a time like this, how could I resist composing a spontaneous verse!" Shiraki laughed, surveying his handiwork.

"Kannabi, no Kannabi god."

"Kannabi has a bridge."

"Above the bridge is a toad."

"One poke, one hop!"

As Shiraki watched the spectacle unfold, the hesitant Iwa troops suddenly erupted in commotion.

"Earth Shadow commands! Spare no effort to assault Minato Namikaze—even if it means sacrifice, it will bring our descendants a better life! For the future of Iwa! Uphold our will of stone! Charge!!"

Driven by fanatic devotion to the Third Tsuchikage Ōnoki and loyalty to Iwa, countless ninjas surged forward. Even if each one drained a sliver of chakra from Minato, he would tire eventually.

"Damn it..." Minato stared at the oncoming horde. He couldn't afford to linger and dismantle the bridge anymore. His only option now was to hold them back with his own body.

"Minato, have you thought this through? Your chakra can't sustain prolonged combat," Guy said, as if reading his mind. He inhaled deeply and exhaled a thick plume of smoke.

"How long... is all I have left... after all... Kushina is waiting in Konoha..." Minato clutched a letter he'd just received. Kushina had written that she was pregnant. He had to protect her and their child.

"Hmph. Compared to chopping wood, I prefer slaughtering these Iwa trash. Let's defend together." Guy crushed his enormous cigarette beneath his massive frame, blocking the bridgehead and shielding Minato.

"Very well. Let us fight as one." Minato raised his hand; a wind blade sliced across the ground.

"Anyone who crosses the line dies!"

...

This would be a day of solemn sacrifice. The Iwa ninjas charged without fear. The Chunin who had used Hardening Jutsu had made themselves nearly unbreakable. Even the genin had fastened iron plates to their necks, hoping to exhaust Minato a little more with each death.

Minato had never fought so fiercely. They came at him like waves of the dead. Rasengan was no longer an option—it consumed too much chakra. When he struck a Chunin whose entire body had turned to rock, it proved useless. Without Guy, he might have fallen long ago. He had never excelled at sustained high-intensity combat.

"Damn it, come on! A pack of stone-headed fools—bones this hard?" Guy roared, his blade now bent. The rock-hardened warriors still pressed forward.

The battle raged for two days and two nights.

As the sun dipped below the horizon the following day, a small four-meter mountain rose at the mouth of Kannabi Bridge—piled high with Iwa ninjas, like a siege by the undead. Countless troops were already clambering over the corpses, but before anyone could discern the outcome, Minato's gleaming blade flashed. It clove through a throat and sent its owner tumbling down, adding yet another layer to the foundation of corpses.

Minato's kunai had long shattered. The long sword in his grip was who-knew-which blade he'd scavenged. Not a master swordsman, his movements had become lethally precise under the lightning of his reflexes. He conserved every ounce of stamina, striking only with lethal intent. Even when blood sprayed into his eyes, he never wiped it away.

Fortunately, Guy's colossal frame intercepted most of the shuriken and jutsu, sparing him from expending what little chakra remained.

Dark crimson blood pooled across the bridge and spilled into the Kannabi River, tainting the waters below. Even so, it continued to accumulate. Warm blood rose to Minato's ankles, each step sending ripples of dark water flying.

Exhausted though he was, he had no retreat. He only knew he must hold the bridge until no one could pass. He knew he must endure until Ōnoki withdrew. For this, he had not even left a single speck of Flying Thunder God chakra.

"Minato... I can't hold on..." Guy leaned heavily on his cracked blade, his long tongue drooping limply. Kunai and shuriken protruded from his back like pins.

"Sorry... I involved you..." Minato looked like a bloodied demon risen from hell. His once-vibrant yellow hair had darkened to a hue deeper and redder than Kushina's. His blood-splattered face held no trace of its former handsomeness.

"Take... care..." Guy's massive body collapsed with a thunderous boom and dissolved into white smoke.

"Today, this bridge holds no cowards... only heroes." Shiraki gazed upward at the blood-red sunset clouds and drew a steadying breath.

Perhaps the Second Hokage Senju Tobirama had perished for such resolve. Minato had simply inherited that same unyielding will.

"The summoning beast has vanished! Strike from range!" The remaining Iwa ninjas' morale surged.

"No. Heroes should die with dignity," Shiraki said, blocking the shuriken-throwing Rock ninjas.

"Lord!!! He slew so many of our comrades!" a young Iwa ninja shouted, eyes blazing red.

"Rest assured. It's all right. Trust me," Shiraki said gently, patting the boy's shoulder and offering a steady gaze. "Iwa... long live."

Minato stood atop the mountain of corpses and sea of blood, gripping his long blade. If he continued, he might hold a little longer, but the brief respite loosened his taut nerves. His eyelids grew heavier. Watching the figure approaching slowly, he could no longer lift his sword.

"Kushina..."

In the hazy realm of illusion, Kushina's smiling face appeared so vivid, her hair so lovely...

They say that before death, one sees the loved one most missed. Was this the moment of coming back?

"Minato, you're tired. Rest now," a voice whispered.

The embrace felt so warm...

Clang!

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