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Night blanketed the forest, the thick canopy casting layered shadows that seemed to shift and move with each rustle of the leaves. Haruto, Daichi, the Hyuga jonin, and their three remaining chunin teammates lay concealed in the dense underbrush, barely daring to breathe. The moonlight filtered through in scattered beams, highlighting the sharp angles of their tensed bodies and casting flickering patterns across their faces. A chill crept through the night air, carrying with it the distant, ominous sounds of the nocturnal forest. But all Haruto heard was the pounding of his own heartbeat, a steady, unyielding rhythm as he honed his chakra sensitivity, attuning himself to every flicker of energy nearby.

He could feel them—four chakra sources emanating from the cave below, their faint auras pulsing like distant stars in the dark. But one of them… one blazed like a fire contained within stone. Its raw power seeped through the earth, unmistakably jonin-level. The oppressive strength from that one presence pressed against Haruto's senses, a reminder of the deadly skill that lay hidden within the depths of the cave. Beside him, his teammates were equally motionless, their eyes scanning the terrain, their breaths so shallow they seemed almost imperceptible. They waited in taut silence, each heartbeat an echo of readiness, coiled for whatever lay ahead.

Then it happened—a sudden, violent spike of chakra erupted beneath them. Haruto's heightened senses flared to life, a warning surging through him like an electric shock. Almost simultaneously, he and the Hyuga jonin caught the shift, a wave of malicious energy surging up from below, bringing with it a lethal intent. The recognition was instantaneous. With voices edged in urgency, they shouted in unison, "Move!"

But the warning was a fraction too late. One of the chunin was caught in mid-motion, his body twisting, yet not fast enough. The ground erupted, sending a shower of dirt and stone cascading through the air, and a hulking figure rose from the earth, his presence dark and menacing. The Sand jonin moved with the predatory grace of a seasoned killer. His kunai flashed upward, a deadly arc that found its mark, piercing the chunin's chin in one merciless strike. The blade tore downward in a brutal motion, cleaving flesh and bone, leaving a slick trail of crimson that glistened in the faint light, each droplet catching the silvery glow of the moon.

Haruto's gaze locked onto their assailant, taking in the formidable figure before him. The Sand jonin was unlike any opponent he'd encountered—a warrior seemingly carved from the very earth itself. Thick layers of rock coated his body, hardened and jagged, forming a rugged armor that bristled with a raw, intimidating presence. It wasn't simply a shield; it was a fusion of earth chakra and physicality, creating the impression of a creature forged from stone, a living fortress that moved with terrifying purpose.

Without a moment's hesitation, the Hyuga jonin sprang into action, a blur of grace and deadly intent. His Gentle Fist style was a dance of lethal precision, each movement a perfectly executed strike meant to sever the flow of chakra within his opponent. His hands cut through the air in swift, calculated arcs, homing in on the Sand jonin's vital points. But the armored shinobi was no stranger to combat. With a smirk hidden behind his rocky visage, he dodged and sidestepped, his movements deceptively fluid despite his bulk.

With a sharp, decisive hand sign, the Sand jonin raised stone spikes from the ground, forcing the Hyuga to dart back, his evasion smooth and unyielding as he countered with relentless attacks. The two shinobi became a whirlwind of motion, clashing amidst the shadows, their bodies weaving in a deadly rhythm of offense and defense.

Though the Hyuga jonin's Gentle Fist was a skill honed to perfection, his strikes seemed to slide off the hardened armor, the blows glancing away with little effect. Each impact should have closed off a chakra point, rendering the Sand jonin weaker and slower, yet the stone shield blunted the Hyuga's efforts, muting the power of his attacks. Even so, Haruto could see that his ally was slowly pressing the Sand shinobi, each strike pushing the jonin toward his limit, every dodge and parry edging him closer to a critical mistake.

Then, like an encroaching storm, another wave of chakra signatures surged toward them, a crescendo of deadly intent that set Haruto's nerves on edge. It was the chakra signatures they had been monitoring. He felt them—a cluster of four, but one in particular stood out. Emerging from the shadows, an older woman stepped forward, her silhouette rigid and poised. She moved with a deliberate grace, her gaze sharp and unyielding. As she reached into her robes, she withdrew a scroll, her movements smooth and practiced. She unfurled it with an almost ceremonial flourish, and in an instant, smoke billowed from the scroll's surface.

Out of the haze appeared five meticulously crafted puppets, their forms glinting under the faint light, each equipped with an arsenal of hidden weapons. The puppets stood, poised and lethal, their joints creaking faintly as they took position around their master.

Haruto's heart dropped, the weight of recognition crashing down on him like a hammer. "Chiyo…" The name escaped him in a whispered breath, his voice tight with dread. The legendary puppet master, whose name alone carried tales of terror and death.

As Haruto's gaze locked onto Daichi's, he leaned in, his voice low and urgent. "Run. We're no match for her. We need to get back to Sakumo."

Without waiting for a response, the two pivoted to flee, but the Sand jonin, sensing their intent, disengaged from the Hyuga with an almost predatory instinct. His hands blurred through a rapid series of seals, and the ground itself answered his call. Stone spikes burst forth, forcing the Hyuga jonin to leap back, creating an instant of opportunity. With a savage grin, the Sand jonin surged forward, aiming to intercept Haruto and Daichi, his form like a looming shadow intent on cutting off their retreat.

But Daichi was prepared. With a quick, practiced hand sign, he summoned four shadow clones, each clone armed with directional tags that glinted in the sparse moonlight. The clones sprang forward, weaving around the Sand jonin and forming a tight circle. In a perfectly synchronized move, they detonated the tags, igniting a storm of force and debris that shattered the air with a deafening boom. The clones were obliterated in the blast, and the Sand jonin staggered, the shockwave slamming him back. As the smoke cleared, the formidable stone armor that once covered his body was fractured, large chunks blasted away, leaving raw patches of exposed flesh and cracks in his earthen shield.

Seizing the advantage, the Hyuga jonin dashed in, his strikes swift and unyielding, each one finding its mark with pinpoint accuracy. The Sand jonin's movements grew visibly sluggish as several key chakra points were sealed in quick succession. But the Hyuga knew better than to linger. He called out urgently, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Retreat! Now!"

Without hesitation, Haruto, Daichi, the Hyuga jonin, and the remaining chunin sprinted into the shadows of the forest, their steps light and urgent. The haunting whirs and metallic clicks of Chiyo's puppets echoed through the trees, closing in on them with relentless pursuit. Ahead of them, two more Sand shinobi materialized, cutting off their path. They moved with the fluidity of seasoned warriors, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of the hunt. One of them, a towering figure, brandished an enormous battle fan. He swung it in a sweeping arc, unleashing a gale-force wind that tore through the forest, uprooting branches and whipping up a storm of debris.

Thinking fast, Haruto reached into his pouch, his fingers curling around a directional tag. With a surge of chakra-enhanced strength, he hurled the tag directly into the path of the gust. The explosion countered the wind's force just enough to create a brief opening, allowing him to close the distance between himself and a Sand chunin blocking their escape.

Behind them, the Sand jonin with the fractured rock armor was relentless, his kunai glinting as he pursued them. The Hyuga, having sealed several more of his chakra points, remained just a step ahead, directing the remaining chunin to keep pace. The Sand jonin lunged forward, catching up to one of the chunin in a brutal exchange of blows. With a swift, punishing kick, he sent the chunin stumbling, preparing for a fatal strike. But before he could land it, the Hyuga jonin intervened, deflecting the assault with a flurry of Gentle Fist strikes. The two jonin clashed in a fierce, unforgiving exchange, each blow resonating with deadly intent.

Determined to finish the fight, the Hyuga's strikes grew even faster, flowing with a deadly rhythm that forced the Sand jonin back. A final series of shuriken flew from the remaining chunin, giving the Hyuga an opening. With a fluid strike, he broke through the Sand jonin's defense, delivering a fatal blow that left the enemy to crumble in silence.

Meanwhile, Haruto's attention locked on the Sand chunin wielding the battle fan. The two Sand shinobi had drawn dangerously close together, preparing to unleash another attack. Haruto's gaze narrowed, calculating his next move. In one swift motion, he pulled out his ninja claymore tag and hurled it between them.

Both Sand shinobi instinctively leapt back—a tactical move that would ordinarily have been safe. But Haruto's claymore was no ordinary explosive tag. As it detonated, the explosion concentrated inward, compressing its energy to release a storm of shrapnel. Razor-sharp fragments of metal sliced through the air with lethal precision, filling the narrow space between them.

Caught mid-air, fully exposed, the two Sand chunin had no defense. The first took a shard to the shoulder, the projectile carving through muscle and embedding itself into his chest. Blood poured from the wound, his face a mask of agony as he collapsed, lifeless. The second chunin's neck was pierced by a jagged fragment, his final expression one of stunned horror as he fell to the forest floor. The deadly shrapnel had done its job, leaving a macabre tableau against the night, the ground around them painted in red.

For a fleeting moment, relief washed over Haruto and Daichi, the path before them seemingly clear. But then, Haruto's chakra senses flared with an instinctual warning—a surge of danger pulsing toward them.

"Stop!" Haruto hissed, grabbing Daichi's arm just as a cascade of explosions erupted in front of them, the force throwing them back and severing their route forward. The detonations echoed through the forest, each blast radiating a warning that left no doubt. Their path was now blocked, the blasts hemming them in and forcing them back toward the direction of their pursuers.

As the smoke from the explosions cleared, a shadowy figure stepped forward, silhouetted by the faint glow of the moon. Haruto's jaw tightened, and a low curse escaped his lips. "Just my luck…"

Chiyo and 3 other sand ninja emerged from the haze, Chiyo's puppets gliding silently into formation around her, each one gleaming with the sharp glint of polished weaponry. The puppets' empty eyes seemed to pierce the darkness, locking onto Haruto and Daichi with unblinking focus. The soft, rhythmic clicks and whirs of their movements filled the air, a deadly symphony orchestrated by the puppet master herself.

In that instant, Haruto's heart sank. Escape was no longer an option.