"Earth Style: Rock Pillars!" twenty voices called out.
Pillars of stone erupted from the ground in a grid pattern around Kokushibo. They rose ten meters into the air and attempted to crush him between their mass. The technique required precise chakra control and coordination between multiple users.
Kokushibo looked up at the descending pillars. His six eyes tracked each one individually. His sword moved in a complex pattern. Crescent waves erupted in all directions and carved through the stone pillars before they could complete their descent.
Rock fragments scattered across the battlefield. Three shinobi were crushed under falling debris.
"Moon Breathing. Seventh Form. Mirror of Misfortune, Moonlit."
Kokushibo's sword traced a frontal crescent slash that was wider than his previous attacks. The blade created a massive cutting wave that expanded forward and was interlaced with straight slashes that emerged from the ground beneath it. The attack carved a trench through the earth and killed eight shinobi who couldn't retreat fast enough.
Blood soaked into the torn ground. Screams filled the night air as the wounded tried to crawl away from the expanding destruction.
Suzumebachi's chakra-sensing detected the casualties mounting. They had started with one hundred and sixty-eight combat-ready shinobi. Forty-four were dead now. The enemy showed no signs of fatigue or diminished capacity.
"All ranged teams focus fire!" Hachimitsu commanded. "Hit him with everything simultaneously!"
The remaining shinobi launched their techniques in a massive coordinated strike.
"Earth Style: Earth Flow Rocks!" six voices shouted from the western flank.
Boulders the size of carts erupted from the ground and flew through the air toward Kokushibo.
"Earth Style: Rock Pillar Spears!" eight shinobi called out from the eastern positions.
Massive stone pillars shot up from the ground at angles designed to impale Kokushibo from below.
"Earth Style: Earth Dragon Bullet!" a dozen voices rang out simultaneously.
A dragon-shaped formation of mud and stone rose from the earth and launched hardened projectiles from its mouth in rapid succession.
"Earth Style: Mud Wave!" five more shinobi shouted from the northern flank.
A massive wave of liquefied earth surged forward to engulf and trap the target.
The attacks converged on Kokushibo's position from every direction.
Suzumebachi watched the barrage impact and calculated the total chakra expenditure. They had committed nearly forty percent of their remaining offensive capacity to that single strike. If it failed to produce results, they would have limited options for follow-up attacks.
When the assault cleared, Kokushibo stood in the center of the destruction with his sword held in a ready position. His robes were torn in several places and showed pale skin beneath. Burns marked his exposed skin where the techniques had made contact.
But as Suzumebachi watched, the injuries healed in real time. Burns faded and cuts closed. Within seconds he was completely unharmed again.
"Impressive," Kokushibo said. His voice carried genuine appreciation. "That level of coordination requires extensive training and discipline. You shinobi may rely on chakra manipulation rather than pure skill, but you demonstrate competence in applying your techniques."
He walked forward through the scorched earth. His six eyes studied the remaining defensive positions with calculating interest. Though he had the upper hand for now, forty percent of his chakra reserves had already depleted. But his confidence didn't waver.
"However, competence is not sufficient against true mastery," Kokushibo continued. "Your techniques are useless against true masters."
"Moon Breathing. Sixth Form. Perpetual Night, Lonely Moon, Incessant."
His sword moved in rapid curved slashes. Crescents erupted from each swing and they created a wild barrage that filled the air with cutting edges. The attack covered a hundred-meter arc and struck dozens of targets simultaneously.
Fifteen shinobi died as the crescents carved through their bodies. Five more were wounded and fell screaming to the ground with severed limbs. The defensive formation collapsed as survivors scrambled to avoid the expanding assault.
"Bee Style: Stinger Barrage!" Jibachi appeared from the right flank and launched a stream of chakra-infused senbon.
The needles filled the air in a dense cloud and approached Kokushibo from an angle that should have been outside normal peripheral vision.
Kokushibo's head turned. Two of his six eyes focused on the incoming attack. His sword intercepted the senbon with a spinning motion. Every needle was deflected or cut from the air. The counterattack came as a crescent wave that carved toward Jibachi's position.
The Camp Four commander threw himself to the side. The crescent passed through the space where he had been standing. It continued past him and struck three shinobi who had been positioned behind him. They died instantly as the cutting edge bisected their bodies.
"You cannot harm me with projectiles," Kokushibo said. His voice remained calm and measured. "You shinobis who have no honour can only rely on stealth attacks."
He walked forward. His sword traced another arc through the air. More crescents erupted and carved through the defensive positions. Bodies fell and blood soaked into the earth as the attack killed another seven shinobi.
Suzumebachi's chakra-sensing registered eighty-two remaining combatants. They had lost over half their force in approximately fifteen minutes and accomplished nothing beyond confirming that conventional attacks were ineffective.
He considered the tactical options available. Retreat was not viable given their mission parameters. Continued frontal assault would result in total casualties within the next twenty minutes. They needed a different approach that exploited some weakness or limitation in the enemy's capabilities.
The regeneration required chakra. The sword techniques also required chakra. That meant the enemy shouldn't have much chakra left. They had to exploit this weakness.
"Earth Style: Swamp of the Underworld!" one of the earth users called out.
The ground beneath Kokushibo's feet liquefied and transformed into a deep swamp of mud that attempted to drag him down. The technique was designed to immobilize opponents and leave them vulnerable to follow-up attacks.
Kokushibo sank ankle-deep into the mud before his sword moved in a downward slash. A crescent wave carved into the swamp and somehow solidified the liquefied earth through sheer cutting force. He stepped onto the hardened section and continued walking forward as if the technique had never been used.
"Moon Breathing. Eighth Form. Moon-Dragon Ringtail."
His sword traced an extremely wide horizontal arc. The crescent that erupted from the swing was massive and covered nearly two hundred meters of distance. It carved through the remaining defensive positions and killed eighteen shinobi who couldn't retreat fast enough from the expanding attack.
Screams filled the night air as bodies fell in pieces across the blood-soaked ground. The inner defensive ring collapsed entirely. Survivors scattered in all directions trying to escape the relentless assault.
Suzumebachi counted sixty-four remaining combatants. The casualty rate had accelerated as the defensive formations broke down. They were approaching the point where organized resistance would become impossible.
"All teams retreat to the command tent!" Jibachi shouted. "Reform defensive positions around the central area!"
The surviving shinobi ran toward the center of the camp where the command tent stood. They formed a desperate cluster around the structure and prepared weapons with shaking hands. Fear showed clearly on their faces now. The confidence and readiness from earlier had been replaced by the certain knowledge that they were all going to die.
Fear was natural but panic served no purpose. Suzumebachi had four decades of combat experience and had survived situations that seemed impossible. This enemy was formidable but not invincible.
Kokushibo walked through the destroyed defensive positions. His six eyes studied the retreating shinobi with an expression of mild disappointment.
"You run now?" Kokushibo asked. "I expected more resistance from warriors who chose to establish camps in foreign territory. I guess shinobis truly have no honour."
He stopped fifty meters from the command tent. His sword rested casually in his right hand. Blood dripped from the blade and soaked into the torn earth beneath his feet.
"I will give you one final opportunity," Kokushibo said. His voice carried clearly across the silent battlefield. "Summon your strongest fighters. Show me the techniques you believe might actually harm me. Make this battle worthy of my name before I finish killing all of you."
The six eyes gleamed in the firelight and waited for their response.
Suzumebachi stepped forward. The four commanders moved to flank him. This was the moment that would determine whether any of them survived the night.