Seeing Saitama close his eyes as if resigning himself to death, Seabuckthorn smirked inwardly, then his expression turned cold. "So this is the end for a Konoha shinobi..."
But before he could strike the final blow, Saitama suddenly crouched and rolled away, narrowly dodging the attack.
"Sharingan?!" Seabuckthorn's eyes widened. He had seen the tomoe in Saitama's eyes before but dismissed it. Now, however, the activation of the Sharingan clearly affected the battle—many of Seabuckthorn's attacks were no longer landing as they should.
"Die!" Seabuckthorn roared, launching a powerful kick toward Saitama.
Boom! The chakra in Saitama's body surged again, lightning crackling across his form. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Saitama rolled aside just in time.
"You die first!" Saitama retaliated with a rising kick as he sprang to his feet, his leg sweeping toward Seabuckthorn.
Crash! The strike landed hard against Seabuckthorn's thigh, both speed and power almost matching his own. Electric arcs hissed in the air—Seabuckthorn flew back, smoke rising from his body as he crashed into a thicket.
Clambering out, Seabuckthorn clutched his injured leg, his expression dark. That leg was scorched black—he'd taken real damage.
"You brat... you'll regret this." He coughed blood, gripping his thigh.
"Still talking?" Saitama's voice dripped with sarcasm as he launched forward again.
The rule was simple—take advantage of an opponent's weakness.
"You're dead!" Seabuckthorn met his charge with a roar.
Boom! Boom! Their bodies clashed again and again. Saitama's tactics were reckless but effective—willing to trade hits just to land his own.
He kicked Seabuckthorn in the waist but took a heavy counter in return. Both were forced back.
"Haah... haah..." They panted in unison, exhaustion showing. Saitama winced—using both the Sharingan and the imperfect Lightning Chakra Mode was overloading his body.
Sweat poured down his face. Sparks still danced across his frame. Seabuckthorn wasn't faring much better—his chest was blackened, his movements slower.
"You're at your limit, boy," Seabuckthorn growled, though his body trembled.
"Maybe... but I can still kill you," Saitama said through gritted teeth. His chakra reserves were nearly gone—this was uncharted territory for him.
His scarlet Sharingan eyes glinted with resolve.
Suddenly—thunk! A kunai whistled through the air. Saitama barely dodged.
His eyes snapped to the source—Xio, not far away.
Saitama's mouth curled into a grin. "Almost forgot about you."
He vanished in a burst of speed.
"Xio! Get back!" Seabuckthorn cried out too late. His own legs lagged from fatigue. Meanwhile, Saitama pushed his Lightning Chakra Mode further, sparks erupting from his frame.
Thud! Saitama drove a kunai straight through Xio's chest, the force so great it tore out his back.
"Let's die together...!" Xio coughed blood, but smiled madly as he wrapped his arms around Saitama. "Now, Master Seabuckthorn—do it!"
Seabuckthorn charged, kunai drawn.
Though Saitama broke free, Xio's hold had slowed him.
It was enough.
Shunk! Seabuckthorn drove his kunai into Saitama's left chest. But Saitama's hand gripped the blade, stopping it from going deeper.
"Hah..." Blood trickled from Saitama's mouth, but he smiled.
In a flash, he shrank his knee and slammed it upward—directly into Seabuckthorn's groin.
CRACK!
An arc of lightning exploded at the point of contact.
"UGH!" Seabuckthorn let out a choked cry—something inside snapped.
Saitama struck again—another electrified knee. Seabuckthorn collapsed, kneeling, unmoving.
Saitama staggered back, gripping the kunai in his chest with one hand, bracing the ground with the other. The arcs flickering around him finally died out.
He coughed blood. His Sharingan faded back to black.
He looked at Seabuckthorn's limp form, unsure if the man could still move—but Saitama himself couldn't lift another finger.
A shadow moved in the distance.
"Captain! Over here!" A Konoha shinobi called out as a team of four landed nearby, assessing the battlefield scarred with scorch marks and craters.
"Check him—fast!" the leader ordered, rushing to Saitama's side.
He frowned at the kunai lodged in the boy's chest—then noticed faint breathing.
"He's alive! Move! We're getting him back to camp!"
One medic nodded and gently lifted Saitama. "Someone stay behind to clean up the field!"
---
The wind howled in Saitama's ears. Dazed, he felt motion—someone carrying him.
So I survived... barely, he thought. I underestimated him.
His original plan was to hide the Sharingan. Awakening a two-tomoe Sharingan at just six years old was bound to attract attention—especially from Konoha's upper echelon. And from the man in the shadows...
Still, this outcome gave him an excuse. I awakened it under life-or-death stress. That's a good enough cover.
"Medical ninja! Hurry!" someone shouted.
A calm woman's voice replied, "Report?"
"Rear transport squad, Line 2. Ambushed by enemy shinobi. We got here too late to prevent the fight."
"He looks young..." she murmured.
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