"Hmph, what's this talk about ninja bullying the weak or the small?"
"Then tell me, do ninja also have a saying about hiding one's head and tail?"
"Quibbling is meaningless. A dignified Kazekage like yourself shouldn't even be here."
At that moment, Sasori suspected that there had been an intelligence leak or perhaps an internal spy inside the Akatsuki. But no matter how he thought about it, he couldn't find a single likely suspect.
The other members of Akatsuki had no ties to the Hidden Sand Village. On the other hand, he had deep connections with the Sand. If anyone were to be accused of being a spy, he himself would be the first to draw suspicion.
Pakura smiled triumphantly. "Of course, I'm going to Konoha to see my lover. The disguise was only to surprise any fools who might try something, but I didn't expect to meet you two here…"
In truth, Uchiha Gen wasn't worried about Nagato or Obito suspecting a spy inside Akatsuki.
First, Jūzō and the others were meticulous, clean and reliable. It would be nearly impossible for Nagato or Obito to find solid evidence of anything. And without hard proof, they wouldn't risk turning against their own core members. Strong, loyal operatives weren't easy to replace, and Akatsuki already had precious few of them.
Second, from Gen's point of view, even if Nagato and Obito suspected something, they couldn't do much about it. With his current overwhelming power, dealing with them would be simple, as long as he could locate them.
With three and a half insiders feeding him information, finding Nagato was no problem. The real challenge lay in locating Obito and Black Zetsu. Once those two were handled, everything else would fall into place.
What a sinister woman, Sasori thought bitterly. Then he remembered that Pakura was Uchiha Gen's woman, and his anger flared even hotter.
He still hadn't forgotten the humiliation he'd suffered at that man's hands.
"Don't think your presence here makes you untouchable," Sasori hissed. "Today, this will be your burial ground! Deidara, get serious!"
Up in the sky, Deidara perched on his giant clay bird. He had just stopped the bleeding from his earlier wounds and popped a few pills into his mouth. A manic grin spread across his face.
"Art is an explosion! Today, everyone who dares oppose the Jinchūriki will be gloriously sublimated in my art—un!"
Pakura didn't even blink. "Everyone, fall back."
If she were alone, she might have been cautious around these two. Based on intelligence, her odds of survival would've been slim. But with her husband's summoned beasts by her side, she had no reason to fear.
Among Gen's summons, Shuryu and Fūmi suited her best. And if necessary… she could even call upon Kyouki.
"Yes, Lady Kazekage!"
Temari and the others immediately obeyed, retreating toward the uninhabited western plains.
This level of battle was far beyond them. Even Gaara could only hope to participate by borrowing the power of Shukaku.
Sasori and Deidara ignored the retreating Sand shinobi. Both were too busy keeping their eyes on Pakura and her summons to waste any movement. They'd have to take her down first before worrying about anything else.
Sasori unfurled a scroll with a flick of his wrist. Dozens of dark shadows shot out, each expanding into a puppet clad in reddish-brown robes, armed with various exotic weapons.
He opened the chest compartment on his right side, unleashing countless chakra threads that linked him to the floating puppets. In an instant, hundreds of puppets hovered around him like royal guards surrounding their emperor—a truly grand sight.
Deidara's preparations were more modest at first, stuffing more clay into his mouths and molding it frantically. But soon, under his chakra's control, the clay took shape—a massive, white, winged dragon with a serpentine body and a face twisted in manic artistry.
"Go!"
Sasori and Deidara shouted in unison. The horde of puppets and the giant flying dragon lunged toward Pakura.
Without needing her command, Shuryu and Fūmi moved simultaneously.
Shuryu opened its jaws and unleashed a torrent of golden-white flames. The inferno expanded over a vast area, consuming everything in its path. The air rippled with heat, and the temperature spiked to unbearable levels.
Don't let Fūmi's usual cute demeanor fool you, it was ruthless in battle. From its small beak, it fired a tiny white sphere of compressed wind.
The moment it left Fūmi's mouth, the sphere swelled rapidly, transforming into a massive, translucent bullet the size of Deidara's flying dragon.
The explosion from the dragon's own clay bombs couldn't even slow it down. The wind bullet tore straight through, reducing the dragon to scattered chunks of clay before it detonated midair.
Sasori dodged nimbly, manipulating his puppets to evade the firestorm. Even so, nearly a third of his puppets weren't fast enough—they vanished into ash within the golden flames.
The once-green plains turned black and cracked. The grass vaporized, and the very earth split from the heat.
Pakura wasn't idle either. Her hands formed seals, and a millstone-sized sphere of orange-red heat shot toward Sasori.
Sasori barely had time to react. He swung his chakra threads, pulling his remaining puppets in front of him to block.
Her Scorch Release fireballs were terrifying. Even though the puppets contained no moisture, they ignited instantly. Within seconds, they were reduced to charred husks.
Using that brief cover, Sasori retreated to a safer distance.
Temari and the others could only stare, stunned. Compared to this level of power, their past battles looked like child's play.
Once he caught his breath, Sasori glanced at the handful of surviving puppets and felt a stab of pain. Half his collection gone in a single exchange!
Even without a real heart, he still remembered what heartache felt like.
Realizing that his puppet swarm tactic was useless here, he quickly recalled the remaining ones into his scroll. A moment later, he drew out his greatest masterpiece, the Third Kazekage Human Puppet.
"The Third Kazekage truly did die by your hand," Pakura said coldly. "Prepare to join him, Sasori!"
"Fūmi, keep the other one occupied. Don't let him interfere."
"Understood, my lady."
Fūmi's tone was calm, but its wings flared with dazzling light as it dove toward Deidara.
Deidara whistled sharply, scattering dozens of white clay birds that swarmed toward Fūmi.
"Hah!"
Each bird exploded midair, lighting the sky with bursts of orange and white. Deidara leapt back, narrowly dodging a streak of cyan that flashed through the smoke.
The slash of light cleaved his bird clean in two. If he hadn't reacted in time, he'd have been split as well.
Fūmi's speed was second only to Kyouki's, and in tight combat, it was even faster.
Deidara hastily molded more clay, forming another bird to regain altitude. Without it, he'd have crashed and likely broken half his bones.
A glimmer of cyan caught his eye again. He didn't even think, just flipped backward off the bird.
Sizzle!
The bird split again, this time horizontally.
Thud!
Deidara hit the ground hard but quickly recovered, slamming a small clay figure into the dirt.
BOOM!
A thick white smoke cloud burst outward, covering the battlefield.
High above, Fūmi hovered with its wings glowing bright white, its beak gathering light like a Rasenshuriken. It exhaled sharply, releasing a storm that blew the smoke away in an instant—but the ground below was empty.
"My lady, the enemy has gone underground. Stay alert!"
The words carried clearly on the wind, reaching Pakura's ears.
But Deidara wasn't planning an ambush, at least, not right now.
He'd already brushed against death twice in less than a minute. Hidden beneath the surface, he steadied his breathing and hastily bandaged the reopened wounds along his ribs.
Fūmi's voice echoed gently in Pakura's mind. "It seems he's gone underground, but don't worry, my lady. I'll keep watch for you."
Pakura's expression didn't change, her sharp eyes fixed on Sasori as her chakra began to surge once again.