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Inoiki didn't waste a single moment. With a swift leap, he propelled himself into the air, his figure cutting through the night like a shadow. The sky was his ally, a canvas of darkness that concealed his movements. No one would expect an enemy to descend from above, and that was precisely what Inoiki intended to do—strike from where they least anticipated.
As he soared, the wind whispered past him, carrying the faint scent of smoke and urgency. Below, the faint glow of fire lamps flickered like distant stars, illuminating a team of ten ninjas led by a Jonin. They moved with practiced precision, their speed remarkable as they raced toward the source of a distress signal. Inoiki's sharp eyes tracked their movements, calculating his next move. He hovered silently above them, a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Without hesitation, he descended, his body gliding effortlessly until he floated just inches above the ground. His arrival was as sudden as a thunderclap in a clear sky. The Iwa ninjas skidded to an abrupt halt, their momentum dragging them forward a few inches before they could fully stop. The surprise was evident in their widened eyes and tense stances. They were unprepared, unbalanced—and for someone like Inoiki, that was more than enough.
In the blink of an eye, he seized the opportunity. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he summoned a storm of kunais and shurikens, their blackened forms blending seamlessly into the night. The weapons hovered invisibly in the air, undetectable to the unsuspecting ninjas below. Then, with a ruthless precision, Inoiki unleashed them.
The kunais and shurikens rained down like a deadly hail, their movements swift and merciless.
The Iwa Jonin, a seasoned warrior with decades of experience and razor-sharp instincts, sensed the attack before it fully unfolded. His voice thundered through the night, "INCOMING!" With reflexes honed by countless battles, he deflected the incoming kunai aimed at him, his own Kunai clashing against the projectile with a sharp metallic ring. Though the defense came with some effort, he managed to neutralize the threat. But his subordinates were not as fortunate.
The kunais and shurikens descended like a deadly storm, and chaos erupted. Six of the ninjas fell instantly, their bodies crumpling to the ground as the Kunais and Shurikens found their marks—piercing skulls and slicing through necks. The remaining three, except for Jonin, were not spared either; one suffered a grievous wound, clutching his side as blood seeped through his fingers, while the others bore minor but painful injuries. The air was thick with the scent of iron and the muffled groans of the wounded.
Inoiki landed silently, his feet barely making a sound as they touched the earth. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto the remaining ninjas. Channeling his psychokinetic energy, he focused the power into his leg muscles, coiling them like springs. In an instant, he lunged forward, his movement as swift and deadly as a leopard pouncing on its prey. The distance between him and his targets vanished in a heartbeat.
The Jonin, his face a mask of grim determination, felt a pang of unease. Losing so many of his team in mere moments was a blow he hadn't anticipated. His voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding, "Fall back! Gather to me, now!" His remaining teammates, battered but still standing, scrambled to obey, their movements hurried and unsteady.
As they regrouped, the Jonin's hands moved with practiced precision, weaving through a series of intricate hand seals. His mind raced, his focus unwavering. He could feel his Chakra decreasing as he completed the final seal. Just as Inoiki closed in, his blade gleaming in the faint light of the fire lamps, the Jonin slammed his hand onto the ground.
"Earth Release: Fighting Blade Rod!" he muttered under his breath, his voice a low growl.
The ground trembled violently as massive columns of earth erupted from the soil, shooting upward with terrifying force. The area was transformed in an instant, the landscape now a forest of jagged stone pillars. Structures in the vicinity were obliterated, reduced to rubble under the sheer power of the technique. Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring vision and choking the senses.
Inoiki skidded to a halt, his advance momentarily thwarted by the sudden upheaval.
Inoiki was forced to halt his advance, the ground beneath him erupting into a forest of jagged earth pillars. He leaped back, his movements fluid and precise, as he dodged the rising columns of stone that threatened to impale him. The once-open battlefield was now a labyrinth of towering earth, a maze that surrounded him on all sides. He stood still for a moment, his sharp eyes scanning the chaotic terrain, a faint sigh escaping his lips.
"Why do you have to make things difficult for me?" he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with both annoyance and resignation. "The outcome isn't going to change, no matter what you do."
Closing his eyes, Inoiki focused his senses, his mind reaching out like a spider weaving its web. He could feel the faint vibrations of life, the subtle movements of his enemies hidden within the maze of earth. The five remaining kunais scattered around him stirred, lifting silently from the ground as if guided by an invisible hand. They floated for a moment before vanishing into the shadows of the earth pillar forest, their blackened forms blending seamlessly with the darkness.
Through his heightened perception—his 'Observation Haki'—he pinpointed the locations of the four remaining ninjas: the Jonin and his three surviving subordinates. They were regrouping, their chakra signatures flickering like faint flames in the night. Inoiki's lips curled into a faint smirk as he set his plan into motion. The kunais, now under his complete control, began their deadly journey through the maze, homing in on their targets with lethal precision.
But Inoiki didn't stop there. He began to move as well, his feet carrying him swiftly through the labyrinth of earth pillars. The terrain was treacherous, the towering columns forcing him to navigate carefully. It would take time to reach his enemies, and time was a luxury he couldn't afford to waste. Yet, he moved with purpose, his mind calculating every step.
If he had wanted to, he could have torn through the maze in an instant. His 'Psychokinesis' was more than capable of reducing the earth pillars to rubble, clearing a path straight to his targets. But such an act would drain his chakra reserves, and he couldn't afford that. Not now. Not when he knew more Jonins were likely on their way, drawn by the chaos of the battle. His hands were tied, not by the enemy's strength, but by his own need to conserve energy for the battles yet to come.
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