Naruto: Starting as the Third Hokage with Tears in His Eyes

Chapter 557 The Substitute of Letting Go

Chiyo went mad.

The flames of revenge had consumed all her composure and rationality as an elite ninja and an advisory elder of Sunagakure.

At this moment, her world consisted only of the white-haired man before her.

"--die!!!"

A hoarse shriek burst from deep within her throat, accompanied by the frantic dancing of her fingers.

hum-

The canyon echoed with an unbearable buzzing sound as the White Secret Technique: Chikamatsu Ten, hailed as the pinnacle of Sunagakure's puppetry, transformed into deadly phantoms under the full force of Chiyo's chakra.

The Sand Village ninja present all showed fervor and awe on their faces.

They could almost see the horrific scene of that Konoha ninja being pierced by poisoned needles, torn apart by blades, and completely crushed by sealing techniques.

Sakumo Hatake, standing at the center of the storm, closed his eyes.

In that instant, a chilling aura erupted from his body.

That wasn't chakra, nor ninjutsu, but something purer and more primal—killing intent.

It was the tangible killing intent that belonged to Konoha's White Fang, forged through countless brushes with death.

Even the howling wind in the entire canyon seemed to carry a hint of sorrow.

Danzo and Kagami, standing behind Sakumo, felt it most clearly.

Danzo's perpetually icy face tensed slightly.

Uchiha Kagami's three-tomoe Sharingan spun rapidly. He didn't look at the attacking puppets, but instead locked his gaze firmly on Sakumo. He had a premonition that what was about to happen would be a technique beyond his comprehension.

At that very moment, Sakumo Hatake opened his eyes.

……

In Chiyo's perception, time was torn apart.

The sound of the wind, the rolling of sand, the frantic pounding of his own heart, the gasps of astonishment from his subordinates… everything seemed to be slowed down by an invisible hand, becoming incredibly slow and drawn out.

The world has been transformed into a still, gray painting.

However, in this deathly gray landscape, there was only one ray of light.

That light was incredibly fast, so fast that it defied all logic, so fast that even her dynamic vision and her reflexes as a top-tier ninja couldn't catch it.

All that could be seen was a white light that shone from where Hatake Sakumo had originally stood, like the first lightning bolt tearing through the night, flashing past among her ten puppets.

The light didn't create any wind pressure; it simply existed, leaving a trail.

A beautiful, flowing arc, yet containing ultimate killing intent.

It bypassed the overwhelming barrage of poisonous needles, passed through layers upon layers of blades, and nimbly swept past the gap between the two chains of sealing magic, a gap that lasted less than a fraction of a second.

It wasn't like a battle; it was more like a calligraphy master standing at the pinnacle of skill, wielding his brush and splashing ink to write a vivid yet chilling character in the air—the character "终" (end).

The glint of the blade disappeared.

The world has returned to normal flow rates.

Sakumo Hatake reappeared in the same spot.

With his back to Chiyo, he slowly and meticulously sheathed the short sword named White Fang on his back.

Chiyo stared at him blankly, her mind a complete void.

ended?

What happened?

Why...did he stop?

The answer was revealed the next second.

"Clang!"

A crisp sound rang out as a metal part hit the ground.

Followed by.

"Clang, clang, clang..."

The sounds came one after another, forming a continuous chorus.

Chiyo's prized Chikamatsu Ten, those killing weapons that carried all her heart and hatred, stood frozen in place. Then, like puppets without strings, one after another, they fell helplessly and haphazardly to the ground.

Some heads rolled off, some arms broke off, and some bodies were torn apart. They were smashed into piles of lifeless, cold parts.

"No...it's impossible..."

Chiyo muttered to herself absentmindedly, instinctively trying to raise her finger to regain control of her puppet.

Just then, an unprecedented, soul-deep pain and emptiness suddenly seized her.

Chiyo was horrified to discover that, in that very instant, the incredibly strong threads of chakra that connected her to all the puppets had been severed at the same time.

Not a single one left!

What incredible control!

Chiyo felt all her strength drained away; her legs went weak, and she almost collapsed to her knees.

All that remained to keep her standing was shock and fear.

Sakumo Hatake ignored the commotion behind him and simply shook his head in disappointment.

This action was the final straw that broke Chiyo's defenses.

Just as she was immersed in this immense shock and fear, she suddenly felt a cold sensation in her throat.

The chill made her shiver and snap her back to her senses.

Chiyo lowered her head with difficulty, inch by inch.

She saw a white dagger that exuded a chilling aura.

The tip of the knife was firmly positioned three inches in front of his throat.

The blade reflected a cold light in the canyon's sunlight, so clean that not a single trace of blood or dust remained.

The hand gripping the hilt of the knife was as steady as an ancient rock.

Following that hand upwards, there was the man she hated to the bone, yet feared like a demon—Sakumo Hatake.

Thousand Winds Canyon has never been so quiet.

All the surviving Sand Village ninjas stood motionless, like puppets whose souls had been ripped out, frozen in place, maintaining the posture they had just assumed before the attack, their minds completely blank.

Their pride, their last pillar of strength, the White Secret Technique: The Ten Puppet Masters of Chikamatsu, hailed as the greatest masterpiece of puppetry in Sunagakure... was reduced to a pile of cold, lifeless scrap metal.

In their minds, this was simply impossible.

Chiyo felt the icy chill coming from three inches in front of her throat.

That wasn't the temperature of the blade, but a palpable killing intent emanating from the blade itself.

She can't move.

Every cell in her body was screaming for her to escape, but her will had been completely severed and crushed into dust by that dagger that defied all reason.

She lost.

The defeat was so complete and so decisive that there wasn't even the slightest suspense.

Sakumo Hatake remained composed, his clean white hair gently swaying in the canyon breeze.

On that handsome and serene face, there was no joy of victory, no thrill of revenge, not even a ripple of emotion.

He simply completed his task, just as he would use the most precise techniques to prune the excess branches and leaves from a new crop on a farm, nothing more.

Looking at the old woman in front of him, whose hair was gray and who was trembling with extreme fear and despair, he slowly spoke.

"The battle is over."

The sound wasn't loud, but it clearly reached the ears of everyone in the canyon, like a heavy hammer shattering the last illusions of the Sand Village ninjas.

Danzo, standing at a distance, watched this scene with an expressionless face.

"Foolish Sand Village."

He coldly commented to himself.

Placing hope in hatred and building tactics on rage, the outcome was predetermined from the start.

In his view, this inefficient fighting style, filled with superfluous emotions, was simply an insult to ninjas.

Uchiha Kagami, who was standing next to him, sighed softly.

bang-

A crisp metallic thud broke the suffocating silence.

It's like a signal.

A Sand Village ninja dropped his kunai, his legs buckled, and he collapsed to his knees, covering his face with his hands and letting out a suppressed, devastating sob.

Then came the second sound, the third sound...

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sounds of weapons hitting the ground rose and fell in a continuous chorus.

The remaining Sand Village ninjas' last fighting spirit and will, along with the pile of broken puppet parts, were crushed.

They were facing a legend they could never defeat.

These voices also pulled Chiyo back to reality from her boundless fear.

Listening to her subordinates' devastating cries and looking at their desperate and bewildered faces, she suddenly forced a smile that was even uglier than crying.

That smile contained self-mockery, sorrow, and even a sense of absurdity, like waking from a deep dream.

What am I doing?

Driven by a desire for revenge for her son, she lived a life of obsession, pouring all her energy into those cold, deadly weapons, transforming herself into a vengeful ghost existing solely for hatred.

She believed she carried a deep-seated hatred and that she was a righteous crusader.

In the end, in the eyes of the other party, his revenge, which he had risked everything for, might not even be considered a decent battle.

"Heh...hehe..."

A dry, hoarse laugh was squeezed out of her throat.

"So...that's how it is..."

She finally understood.

I didn't lose unjustly.