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Chapter 138: Rain of Needles
🕑 Added 2025-10-28 05:24:59 +0000 UTCWith negotiations having clearly broken down, the shinobi of Kusagakure wasted no time going on the attack. They might be far weaker than those of larger villages, but they were still shinobi — not so foolish as to think they could talk their way out of this.
Not at this point. Only someone like Naruto would continue to want to talk things out even after his village had been turned into a hole in the ground.
These shinobi weren’t that foolish, so once they knew it was fight or die, they all chose to fight. And it wasn’t like they didn’t have a massive advantage. I was one. They were many.
As I stood there facing dozens of enemy shinobi — the incoming rain of kunai and shuriken mixed with ranged ninjutsu like fireballs, water bullets, rocks, sharp winds and more — it really looked like I was in trouble. Few could face something like this and live. And I didn’t have something like the Susano or anything like that.
But that didn’t mean I was helpless. It didn’t mean I had been too arrogant and would pay the price for it. No. Far from it.
Just the Shikotsumyaku kekkei genkai alone had immense defensive power — the power to make my bones harder than steel, able to cover my insides completely: a secret armor that could protect every part of my body.
Though it would still hurt. It was bone armor after all, which meant it didn’t protect my skin and flesh; only that which lay beneath it. I could grow my bones, but growing them outside my body still required me to pierce my flesh with my own bones. Either way, it was painful and messy.
I also had the Flying Thunder God Jutsu, something that meant I could move out of the way of this attack. But as I watched the storm of death arrive, my Byakugan tracked every assault as if in slow motion.
Instead, I called upon my most powerful attack and defense — the one move I had managed to master from my prime. Almost — it wasn’t quite at the same level just yet — but for this? For these? It was enough.
“Rabbit-hair Needle!” I said calmly, and my long white hair instantly rose up behind me. It didn’t just shoot out countless needles; it also worked as a shield. Without getting all my chakra back — or at least my true body — it wouldn’t be as strong as it had been in the fight against the twin saviors Naruto and Sasuke, but here I didn’t need it to shatter the defense of the Susano.
A wall of thin hair intercepted every kunai and every shuriken, blocking every ninjutsu without a single strand of hair being damaged — neither by sharp-wind style nor burned by blazing-fire style ninjutsu. This technique was more taijutsu than anything else; it was like all the powers of Kaguya, drawn from my blood and body. Ninjutsu came much later; my powers, my attacks, were far more innate. That was both a blessing and a curse.
But for these shinobi facing me here, it was nothing short of a nightmare. And not just because their attacks met an impenetrable defense. No — in the end this technique was an offensive one. Sure, I could control and strengthen my hair to defend, but its essence was shaping it into countless deadly needles.
And even diminished as they were, I smirked slightly at the cries of pain and fear that filled the air from my counterattack. Dozens fell to the ground, some dead, some merely wounded and groaning in pain; not a single needle had landed where I didn’t want it to.
The control was amazing — it was one of the greatest prizes I had gotten from this whole rebirth plan. The chance to train my control, once I would have turned this village gate to ruin — all dead and dismembered — now? Perfect control.
With a slight, self-satisfied smile on my lips, I started walking. The path before me was clean; nothing lay in my way as I walked slowly and calmly past them. Those who were able tried to get away, groaning and moaning in pain as they pushed themselves fearfully farther from me.
Shock filled them, their eyes wide with terror. Never had they seen something like that: a single jutsu able to both defend and attack like that. Never before had they seen such strength, and they didn’t know what to do.
In all honesty, what I did wasn’t all that impressive — at most on the level of the Susano at the first two levels. Invincible against cannon fodder, but still within the ability of the different Kage to deal with. Naturally, in this time and age, few people were alive who had seen the might of the Susano. Few had even seen anything close to it.
Most villages had something like it, something reaching that level, but a small village? They had nothing. And the big villages rarely used it, or their means just didn’t have the same impact as an ocean of deadly hair.
The rain of blood and ash was already settling when I stopped at the ruined gate. Behind me, the last of the screams tapered into groans. Ahead, the path into Kusagakure lay open. The village had gone silent — the kind of silence that comes not from peace, but from collective fear: that suffocating stillness when even the bravest realize they are prey.
A few shinobi still clung to life around me, writhing and clutching their wounds. One tried to crawl away, dragging his half-broken leg across the dirt. Another, pinned by his own shattered sword, rasped out a plea.
“P… please… stop… you can’t… you can’t get away with this…”
I turned my head slightly toward him, not slowing my pace. “And who will stop me? You?”
He flinched as if struck, his throat locking up before he could answer. I passed him without a glance.
…
Further into the streets, I was met by the next wave of resistance — not shinobi this time, but frightened men and women wearing armor too large for them, shaking as they formed a line across the main street: the so-called “village guard.”
“Stop right there!” their leader shouted, forcing bravado into his voice. “You’ve gone far enough! Turn back now, or—”
I didn’t let him finish. With my next step I shot bones out of the soles of my feet and pumped chakra into them, growing one bone into a forest — a sharp, pale forest of bone spears erupting upward. Impaling some, trapping others; all were left without the ability to resist, not that they had any to begin with.
Cries tore through the air as the street erupted beneath them. The earth split apart with a sickening crunch as pale spears of bone burst upward, splitting stone and flesh alike. Some were impaled outright — lifted screaming into the air like broken dolls — while others were caught between the jagged ivory spires, trapped, unable to move without tearing themselves open.
Their captain’s voice died in his throat. His helmet clattered to the ground as he stumbled backward, staring wide-eyed at the white forest that had consumed his men. The chakra I poured into the technique still hummed through the air; the bones glistened faintly in the dying light. They pulsed like living things, each one responding to my will. I could feel every drop of blood that slicked their surface, every heartbeat struggling among them.
One of the trapped guards tried to speak, his voice breaking. “Please… stop… you can’t… you can’t just walk into our village—”
I turned my head slightly toward him, my blindfold tilting just enough for him to feel my gaze. “Can’t I?”
The bone beneath him twisted. A spear turned lazily, pressing against his ribs until he screamed. Then, just as suddenly, I released it. The message was clear — I decided who lived and who died. The survivors whimpered and fell to their knees, some dropping their weapons, others too frozen to move. Their fear bled into the air like smoke.
I began walking again, my steps light and deliberate, the bones retracting into the ground behind me as if the earth itself bowed to my passage. Their captain finally broke, stumbling aside to let me pass. “Monster…” he whispered under his breath, voice trembling.
I paused only long enough to answer. “No. Goddess.”
And then I continued forward, deeper into the heart of Kusagakure — where their pride, their hope, and the source of their healing light awaited me. For I had come to crush it, to crush their hopes, their only special thing; to show them that they were nothing, and they best not start thinking otherwise — to get my revenge for their disrespect, and to make a name for myself.
With my Byakugan I could track the entire village: every shinobi, every civilian. I knew how much strength they had left, how much I could get away with killing before attracting too much attention, while also making sure I delivered the lesson.
A few more times they dared to try and stop me, though I honestly assumed they were just the only ones dumb enough to try at this point. Everyone knew they couldn’t stop me; they had invited a disaster onto themselves, and they realized that now. Their leaders cowered, ready to flee at a moment’s notice, staying only to try and save as much of their wealth and power as possible. Yet there was one thing they forgot about in their panic, one treasure they saw only as a tool.
None rushed toward the home of the Uzumaki mother and daughter; the guards remained hidden, likely mostly unaware of what was happening — knowing only that the village was attacked, and likely that their prisoner would be needed soon. Poor ignorant fools. They didn’t know I was coming right for them; they thought themselves safe, but they were already dead, they just didn’t know it yet.
As I started approaching, the guards — all four of them — began to realize something was wrong, but without anyone telling them the situation, they couldn’t know for sure what it was. Though it wasn’t hard to guess that they expected a large number of attackers; surely they didn’t expect a single person would be able to defeat their mighty village.
“Hey, you there — this is—” one moved to say, but I cut him off by cutting off his head as I stepped forward at full speed, instantly appearing beside him with a bone blade extending from my arm.
“Ken!” one of the others screamed, but all the guards were dead the next moment. Their bodies split in two as I retracted the bone blade back inside me.
Finally, I took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door.
