Heiyan surged forward, his body hardening with Earth Release Jutsu as he dashed into close combat against Ning, who struggled to fend off his relentless attack.

Fugaku didn’t hesitate. In a flicker, he appeared beside Heiyan, his Sharingan flaring to life as he cast a powerful genjutsu. To Heiyan, it wasn’t Fugaku before him, but Chiyan, risen from the dead, staring coldly with unblinking eyes. The shock rattled Heiyan’s chakra flow, causing his hardening technique to falter.

Seizing the opening, Ning struck with precision, hitting Heiyan’s chakra points with his Gentle Fist technique.

“Eight Trigrams, Sixty-Four Palms!”

Ning’s hands blurred, hitting Heiyan’s chakra points and blocking his ability to mold chakra. As Heiyan regained his senses, pain shot through his body. He staggered back, coughing blood from the internal damage caused by Ning’s blows.

Fugaku pressed on, his kunai flashing as he aimed for Heiyan’s vital points with calculated, precise strikes. Heiyan tried to defend, but Ning’s and Fugaku’s combined assault left him no time to recover. Steel clashed as their kunai collided, sending sparks into the air.

Ning struck again, his hand glowing with chakra as he hit Heiyan’s vital chakra points. Blood soaked Heiyan’s clothes, mingling with the rain as it pooled on the ground.

In desperation, Heiyan held out, hoping his reinforcements would arrive soon. But Fugaku wouldn’t allow it. He activated another genjutsu, causing Heiyan’s reaction to slow for an instant. Fugaku’s kunai found its mark, piercing Heiyan’s chest, and blood burst from his mouth.

Knowing Heiyan wouldn’t survive, Fugaku ensured his suffering was brief, ending it with a swift slash to the throat. He felt a surge of power in his eyes as his Sharingan evolved further.

“Let’s keep moving!” Fugaku ordered, his voice firm. “Nozawa, stay alert and watch for any signs of movement. Let me know right away if you spot any Iwa reinforcements.”

“Understood,” Nozawa replied. With a swift hand motion, he released a swarm of insects, which buzzed quietly as they dispersed into the surrounding area, spreading them across the area as an early warning system.

Fugaku and Ning swiftly moved among the remaining Iwa Chunin. Their Sharingan and Byakugan created a deadly combination. As the Iwa Chunin locked eyes with Fugaku’s Sharingan, they briefly fell under his illusions. Fugaku’s kunai flashed, and within moments, three of them fell.

“Captain, I see movement in the distance,” Nozawa called. His insects had detected the approach of more Iwa Ninja.

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Fugaku looked in the direction Nozawa pointed, unable to see the reinforcements yet but aware they were near. He turned to the last three injured Iwa Ninja.

“We’re leaving,” Fugaku commanded firmly, turning to his team. “Ning, you take the lead.”

“Follow me,” Ning called, his voice steady but authoritative.

Without hesitation, the team moved swiftly, leaving the wounded Iwa Ninja lying on the ground, struggling to even sit up.

One of the injured Iwa Ninja managed to look up at Fugaku, panic evident in his eyes, his face pale with fear and pain.

“Why aren’t you running?” he aske, desperation in his voice. “Our reinforcements will be here any second. If you stay, you’re just signing your own death sentence.”

Fugaku looked back coldly. He knew they weren’t worried for his safety—they were just afraid he’d kill them before they could be rescued.

In a swift move, Fugaku left only afterimages in his wake, and blood splattered across the ground as the last three Iwa Ninja fell. Three mental messages flashed through his mind.

Fugaku hadn’t stayed just to eliminate the remaining Rock Ninja; he also aimed to erase any evidence of their battle. The Konoha Intelligence Department could extract memories from both the dead and the living, and Fugaku wasn’t sure if other villages had similar skills. To avoid exposing his team’s strength to Iwagakure and drawing unwanted attention, he needed to be thorough.

After setting explosive tags on the fallen bodies, he prepared a chain trap. This would destroy any evidence and hopefully slow down pursuing reinforcements.

In a burst of speed, Fugaku disappeared into the rain-soaked terrain. Moments later, a series of explosions echoed behind him. Fugaku didn’t look back, hoping the blasts would surprise any approaching Iwa Ninja.

He quickened his pace and soon spotted his team ahead. They looked worn out, with fresh wounds and torn uniforms, but they were alert, waiting for him to rejoin them. Fugaku scanned the area, noting an Iwa Ninja corpse nearby. “Destroy the head,” he instructed. “Then, we leave.”

The steady downpour drummed against the muddy ground, filling the air with the smell of wet earth and stone. Fugaku glanced at his left arm, wincing as pain flared from his wound, blood still seeping through the hastily wrapped bandage.

He looked over his squad, noting that while none had life-threatening injuries, each bore signs of the recent battle—cuts, bruises, and bloodstains. “We’re barely holding it together,” he thought grimly. “If we run into another ambush, we won’t stand a chance.”

“Find shelter as soon as possible,” he instructed. “We need to treat our wounds and rest.”

In this era, medical ninjutsu was rare and undeveloped. Tsunade’s vision of medical reforms hadn’t yet taken shape; battlefield healers were almost nonexistent. He knew it would be years before medical ninjas became widely available.

The Aburame clan member, Nozawa, silently released his swarm of tracking insects, letting them scatter through the rain to find hiding spots nearby. Ning’s Byakugan flared, scanning the area, her vision piercing through the gray curtain of rain.

Their search soon paid off. Within minutes, Nozawa found a concealed refuge—a partially collapsed, flat-topped mountain tucked between piles of rubble. They made their way quickly and slipped into the cave. Inside, the cave offered a sheltered view of the area, with one section exposed to the rain for lookout and another section dry for cover.

Fugaku settled onto a stone and carefully unwrapped his bandage, examining the wound. He grimaced slightly as he cleaned it. “It’s not deep, but it still stings,” he thought, suppressing a wince.