Naruto: About the Fact That my Brother is Madara-Chapter 185 - : Playing Flying Thunder God in Front of Me?

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"Getting serious now, huh? Can't even handle a little teasing."

Glancing at the coffins around him and considering Kochou's safety, Kyōsuke could only loosen his grip on Tobirama's hand with a faint smile.

Seeing this, Tobirama bared his teeth in frustration, stepping back to a safe distance with an audible scoff.

Can't handle teasing?

My hair got fried and is still smoking because of you, and you're saying I can't be allowed to get serious?!

Senju Tobirama's fury burned hotter than the scorched ends of his hair. As if facing Uchiha Izuna hadn't been taxing enough, now he was up against an even more formidable foe.

Still, it didn't matter. His confidence swelled as he convinced himself that he was no less capable than his opponent.

He might lack strength compared to his opponent, but could his mastery of ninjutsu truly fall short?

On the other side, Kyōsuke quickly formed a string of seals, the chakra patterns weaving into a complex spatial-time formation beneath Kochou's feet.

"I'm sending you back for treatment," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Leave this to me."

Kochou barely had time to blink before the seal activated. Kyōsuke wasn't about to let her waste precious seconds on melodramatic farewells. If he hesitated, who knew what kind of absurd line she might come up with?

Kochou was fine in most respects—brilliant, cunning, and courageous. But her sense of humor? Completely unpredictable. She had an uncanny knack for role-playing whenever the opportunity presented itself.

One moment, she'd act the part of a mischievous sister-in-law, and the next, a lonely widow or a scandalous unfaithful wife. Sometimes, it was a beautiful neighbor with a flair for dramatic confessions. Kyōsuke couldn't keep up with her imagination.

Honestly, he thought as she vanished into thin air, is she a transmigrator, too? Or are men in every world just wired with these same, oddly specific fantasies?

Returning his focus to the battlefield, Kyōsuke swept his gaze over the reanimated corpses surrounding him. Without hesitation, he drew the Kusanagi Sword from his waist, its gleaming edge slicing through the air like a streak of light.

In a single, fluid motion, seven heads were severed and sent flying.

Having reached a level of strength surpassing Super-Kage-level, Kyōsuke was no longer the man he once was.

Even without using his Body Flicker Technique, he could display speed that surpassed any clan leader.

At least for now, Tobirama had no means of bridging the insurmountable gap between them.

"Your training is still lacking," Kyōsuke said coldly. With the Kusanagi Sword resting casually at his side, he began advancing toward Tobirama, his leisurely strides almost mocking.

Tobirama's expression darkened, his frustration written across his face. His hair, now disheveled and scorched, gave him the look of a battle-worn Saiyan.

Drawing a short blade from his back, he growled through gritted teeth, "Uchiha Kyōsuke, I'm no longer the same man I was five years ago. Underestimate me..."

His words cut off as he disappeared in an instant. When he reappeared, the short blade in his hand was mere inches from Kyōsuke's chest.

"...and you'll pay the price!"

Flying Thunder God Slash!

Kyōsuke reacted calmly, his sharp eyes tracking Tobirama's movements with precision. "Your raw strength may be lacking," Kyōsuke remarked, sidestepping effortlessly, "but you make up for it with endless secret techniques, allowing you to unleash Super-Kage-level combat power."

As Tobirama retreated, Kyōsuke continued, his tone sharpening. "But using the Flying Thunder God Technique in front of me—don't you think that's a bit... arrogant?"

Before Tobirama could respond, Kyōsuke vanished, reappearing behind him in an instant.

The Kusanagi Sword swung in a deadly horizontal arc. Tobirama barely managed to raise his short blade in defense, only for it to shatter upon impact. In a desperate move, he teleported again, narrowly evading the strike.

But Kyōsuke didn't relent. He pursued him relentlessly, appearing behind Tobirama with every teleportation.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

For the next ten seconds, the battlefield became a blur of flickering forms. The two rivals engaged in a dizzying contest of speed and strategy, teleporting back and forth as if trying to outmaneuver each other in a deadly game of cat and mouse.

Each second saw three rapid relocations, resulting in more than thirty instantaneous movements in total. The air around them crackled with residual energy, the ground scarred by their fleeting clashes.

Neither showed any concern for chakra depletion. But the strain was beginning to show on Tobirama's face. The relentless pressure from Kyōsuke left him little room to think, his focus stretched thin.

"How?! He's not using spatial markers—how is he constantly appearing behind me?!"

That moment of doubt proved costly. Kyōsuke's Kusanagi Sword tore through Tobirama's defenses, carving a fresh wound across his body. Blood sprayed into the air as Tobirama gritted his teeth, forced to continue this deadly game of cat and mouse.

On the other hand, watching the panic in his opponent's eyes, Kyōsuke sneered inwardly, applying constant psychological pressure.

The truth was simple: Kyōsuke hadn't been relying on spatial markers. Over the past five years, he had refined the Flying Thunder God Technique to an unprecedented level.

Through his mastery, he had created a domain-like barrier that extended across the battlefield. Within its range, he could teleport freely, entirely bypassing the need for spatial markers.

This advanced technique, which he named Flying Thunder God—Third Step, was the culmination of years of refinement.

Tobirama's bloodied form staggered under Kyōsuke's relentless onslaught. Within seconds, two more precise strikes landed, further crippling him. But Tobirama wasn't one to fold so easily.

Think! There has to be a way out!

Eyes narrowed in determination, Tobirama gritted his teeth and made a bold decision: long-distance teleportation.

The further the distance, the greater the recovery time upon arrival. For most opponents, this recovery time was negligible—barely the blink of an eye.

But for Kyōsuke?

A blink was all he needed to land two—or even three—deadly strikes.

Tobirama's breathing quickened. If his gamble failed, Kyōsuke's next slash would surely claim his life.

Fortunately for him, Kyōsuke didn't pursue this time.

"Damn it..." Tobirama staggered, blood dripping from his countless wounds. Every step felt heavier than the last. He needed treatment—immediately.

Just as he steadied himself, a faint sound reached his ears. The unmistakable whizz of something slicing through the air.

Instinctively looking up, Tobirama's eyes widened. A special kunai spiraled toward him with unerring precision.

"You've let your guard down."

Squelch!

The blade pierced through his chest, tearing through flesh and bone. Tobirama gasped, blood spilling from his mouth as he staggered backward.

He cursed inwardly. I underestimated him... again.

Indeed, the Flying Thunder God — Third Step had its range limitations. But that was no reason for Tobirama to grow complacent.

Because besides his mastery of space-time ninjutsu, Kyōsuke's raw speed was a force to be reckoned with. Within several kilometers, Kyōsuke could reach his target in an instant, and Tobirama's current mastery of the Flying Thunder God was insufficient to escape his relentless pursuit.

"This strike is for my subordinate," Kyōsuke growled, his voice cold and unfeeling.

Crackle!

The sound of chirping birds filled the air as Kyōsuke activated the Chidori. He had no intention of holding back.

Izuna's death had to be repaid with this bastard's life.

Kyōsuke thrust his arm forward.

"Kyōsuke, stop!"

A familiar voice cut through the air.

Before the blow could land, a firm hand gripped Kyōsuke's wrist, halting the crackling lightning mere inches from Tobirama's face.

The sudden interruption gave Tobirama the chance he desperately needed. Summoning his remaining strength, he channeled chakra and activated the Flying Thunder God Technique, vanishing from Kyōsuke's grasp just in time.

"Well, well, Hashirama," Kyōsuke snapped his head around, his eyes narrowing as they met the furious gaze of Hashirama Senju.

"Kyōsuke," Hashirama said, his tone firm and resolute. "I will not allow anyone to harm Tobirama."

Kyōsuke's lips curled into a mocking smile. At that moment, he wished Madara could hear this. The hypocrisy of Hashirama's words was almost laughable.

"Hypocrite."

The Chidori in his hand flared to life once more, crackling with even greater ferocity. With a sudden surge of power, he wrenched free from Hashirama's grip, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to test the strength of the so-called God of Shinobi.

Without hesitation, he aimed the Chidori directly at Hashirama's chest.

Hashirama's gaze hardened. In an instant, his chakra flared to life, a radiant blue glow enveloping his right arm as he summoned an overwhelming surge of energy.

"Stop this, Kyōsuke!" Hashirama's voice thundered. "I have no desire for a meaningless fight!"

"Meaningless?" Kyōsuke's voice dripped with venom. "Then kill Tobirama with your own hands, and I'll agree to an alliance with the Senju Clan. How about that?"

"I've told you—Tobirama is off-limits!"

"Then stop wasting time. Defeat me, and you can unify the Land of Fire."

Lightning surged as Kyōsuke's Chidori crackled with deadly intent, its sharp edge aiming straight for Hashirama's heart.

"Why must you always be so stubborn?!" Hashirama roared, swinging his glowing fist with the force of a titan.

BOOM!

Their clash sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield. The sheer force tore apart the earth beneath them, scattering debris in every direction.

Above, even the clouds split apart, as if the heavens themselves recoiled from the impact.

Within a hundred-meter radius, nothing remained untouched by the destruction of their exchange. Trees were uprooted, boulders pulverized, and the air itself trembled under the weight of their power.

The battlefield was no longer a mere arena; it had become a stage for gods to clash.

..

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[Chapter End's]

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