Nara Kazuki didn't act hastily. His more peculiar jutsu were most effective the first time they were used—after that, the enemy would naturally develop countermeasures.
Just like with Kakashi.
After getting tripped up by Kazuki's tricks a few times, Kakashi now instantly recognized the setups. Of course, recognition didn't always equal immunity—especially when the words came from the one person you owed the most, and they stabbed right through your heart.
"I really didn't expect the guy to pull off even a basic Susanoo with just one eye…" Kazuki ran at full tilt, eyes scanning the towering chakra avatar ahead.
Obito's other Mangekyō Sharingan was still in Kakashi's possession. Yet he could still manifest Susanoo?
Only proved how sharp Uchiha Madara's judgment was when he picked Obito as his successor.
Still, it was probably for the best that Madara hadn't lived much longer. If he'd seen the natural talent of Uchiha Itachi, would he still have chosen Obito?
"Susanoo? You're from the Uchiha clan?!" Jiraiya shouted in stunned fury. He recognized the technique immediately.
But what baffled Jiraiya was—which Uchiha?
As one of the Third Hokage's students, Jiraiya was no stranger to the Uchiha. But even the strongest among them—Uchiha Fugaku—probably couldn't summon a Susanoo like this.
And that eye… it wasn't just a three-tomoe Sharingan. It was something far more evolved.
Obito said nothing.
He simply had Susanoo raise its massive blade and bring it down.
Jiraiya had Gamabunta block it, but the next second, a giant snake burst into the fray, its thick tail swinging in from the side.
Gamabunta was still busy fending off the Susanoo strike—he couldn't counter the tail. If not for Jiraiya's support, he'd have been launched halfway across the battlefield.
Manda.
Kazuki clicked his tongue. The battlefield was getting messier, wilder—every second more unpredictable.
But at least one of Obito's trump cards was now revealed.
No one knew what deal Obito had struck, but he'd clearly convinced a certain Konoha S-Rank missing-nin to lend a hand. It was obvious now—Obito had anticipated a clash with Jiraiya and prepared accordingly.
The moment Manda slithered onto the scene, every ANBU member present felt their stomachs drop.
Everyone knew exactly whose summon that was.
"Jiraiya, let's talk—like the old days," Orochimaru said, smiling from atop Manda's head, eyes cool as ice as he stared down at his former comrade. Jiraiya's expression soured.
Though Orochimaru had been officially branded a rogue ninja, Jiraiya still clung to a faint hope—an urge to pull him back, to speak to his old friend one last time.
But attacking during the birth of a Jinchūriki?
This wasn't just betrayal. This was treason without return.
There was no path left for Orochimaru back to Konoha. He had cast his lot with the enemy.
And right then—Obito made his move, dashing straight toward the delivery room.
Kazuki, along with the other ANBU present, lunged in to intercept—but Obito only lifted his head.
Kazuki's instincts kicked in, and he immediately looked down at the ground—too late.
He was already caught in a genjutsu.
"Shit. Just 'cause you've got a Mangekyō doesn't mean you're invincible," Kazuki cursed. Was this hax ability not a bit too overpowered?
He'd already looked down, avoiding eye contact, and still got pulled into it.
No wonder they called the Mangekyō one of the ninja world's ultimate cheats.
Thankfully, Kazuki had set up countermeasures in advance. He broke free quickly—and when he raised his head again, Obito's hand was already reaching toward Uzumaki Kushina's abdomen.
And then—
In the nick of time, Namikaze Minato appeared in a flash, forcing Obito back.
Kazuki rushed forward—this was the critical moment.
If they could stop Obito from extracting Kurama, then Kushina would likely survive.
And if Kushina survived, Konoha's foundation would remain unshaken.
After all, Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, was not yet too old to fight. He had simply remained in the village, guarding against other potential strikes. With the battle now fully underway, he would no doubt be joining the front lines soon.
"Uchiha… that eye—are you Uchiha Madara?!" Minato asked sharply, warily watching Obito.
For a split second, Obito hesitated.
But upon realizing Minato hadn't recognized him—hadn't seen through the mask—Obito's resolve hardened.
He reached again for Kushina, who was too weak to resist at this crucial moment.
Minato's Rasengan spun to life in his palm, ready to blast Obito away.
But Kazuki, watching, knew exactly what was coming.
Kamui.
A bullshit move, and for anyone who didn't understand its mechanics, Obito was untouchable.
Unless you figured it out first—he was literally untouchable.
Minato thrust the Rasengan forward.
It passed right through Obito's body. No impact. No resistance.
Minato blinked, momentarily stunned.
Obito's Mangekyō turned again, targeting Kushina.
He'd nearly succeeded before. If he struck now—when she was at her weakest—and used Mangekyō genjutsu to seize control of Kurama, he could force the Nine-Tails out of her.
If that happened, Kushina was dead.
Last time, Jiraiya had interfered and blocked the move. But now—even though Minato was turning back—it was too late.
Obito could already see the terror widening in his former teacher's wife's eyes. Her pupils dilated, frozen in horror.
It felt... good.
Time to let his beloved sensei taste the agony of loss. It would push his plan forward.
It was time.
Time to create a world where Rin still lived. A world without Rin… was a world he would burn.
But then—
"Obito… after all this time, you're still such an idiot~"
A voice.
Soft. Familiar. So achingly clear it could've echoed out of a dream.
Obito froze.
"Obito, I've decided… I'll protect you, and watch you become Hokage, okay?"
At that moment, Obito faced the choice.
Fulfill the plan. Create a world with Rin.
Or—
Turn around. Look back. See the person he'd never stopped dreaming of.
Ambition… or love.
He didn't hesitate for even a second.
Obito spun around, joy already blooming across his face.
"Rin—"
Before the name left his lips, a torrent of fire slammed into him.
Roaring. Scorching. Crushing.
The heat wrapped around his throat like a noose.