Chapter 378: Eight Gates vs. Six Paths of Pain
Uchiha Akira drew a slow, measured breath.
Deep within his core, chakra surged with the violence of a breaking dam. The torrential energy flooded his meridian network, slamming relentlessly against the celestial limiters of the human body—the Eight Inner Gates.
This was the forbidden art. The swan song Might Duy had purchased with his very life, the ultimate trump card Might Guy would one day ignite by burning his own youth to ash.
But for Akira?
It was merely another weapon in his arsenal. A weapon stripped of its fatal price.
In the periphery of his vision, the system interface pulsed with a faint, ethereal light.
[Eight Gates: No Damage Active.]
"First Gate, Gate of Opening. Open."
An invisible, concussive shockwave erupted from beneath his boots. The stagnant puddles surrounding him instantly vaporized into a fine mist, blown outward by the sheer force of his rising chakra.
"Second Gate, Gate of Healing. Open."
"Third Gate, Gate of Life. Open."
The ambient air grew heavy, thick with oppressive heat. Akira's skin flushed a deep, burning crimson as his blood pumped at terrifying speeds.
High above, Deva Path Pain narrowed his rippled, purple eyes.
"Taijutsu?" His voice was cold, echoing with detached arrogance. "You intend to challenge a god with such primitive methods? Foolish."
Asura Path lurched forward. The heavy Akatsuki cloak tore away as the mechanized monstrosity shifted, thick metallic plates sliding apart on its back to reveal rows of densely packed missile silos.
"Flaming Arrow of Astounding Capacity!"
A deafening barrage tore through the rain. Over a dozen mechanized missiles erupted from the launchers, trailing thick plumes of white smoke and searing exhaust as they rained down upon Akira's position.
Akira did not even spare them a glance.
"Fourth Gate, Gate of Pain. Open."
"Fifth Gate, Gate of Limit. Open."
The shattered remains of the concrete tower beneath his feet instantly pulverized into dust under the sheer gravitational pressure of his aura.
In the next microsecond, Akira vanished.
It was pure, unadulterated velocity. A speed so absolute that the human retina could not even register an afterimage.
Deprived of their target, the swarm of missiles darted erratically through the empty air before slamming into the distant cityscape, detonating into a chain of blinding orange fireballs that shook the foundations of Amegakure.
'Where is he?'
The Rinnegan across all six bodies darted wildly, scanning the smoke-choked battlefield. The legendary dojutsu granted them a flawless, shared field of vision—a perfect three-hundred-and-sixty-degree network with zero blind spots. Theoretically, it was impossible to lose track of an opponent.
But theory meant nothing in the face of absolute physical supremacy.
When velocity shattered the very limits of perception, even the eyes of a god were rendered blind.
A low, mocking voice whispered directly behind Asura Path.
There was no displacement of air, no warning rustle of fabric. Asura Path's mechanized gears whirred, attempting to pivot, but it was already too late.
Akira materialized from the ether, his entire body wreathed in a furious aura of boiling green energy.
"Sixth Gate, Gate of View. Open."
He raised his right leg.
It was a simple, brutal, and entirely unadorned motion. A single horizontal sweep.
A sickening crunch of shattering steel and tearing synthetic flesh echoed across the rain-swept ruins.
Asura Path, a heavily modified cyborg forged from materials harder than tempered iron, crumpled. The sheer kinetic force of the kick sheared the upper half of its torso cleanly off its chassis, sending a shower of sparks and broken gears scattering into the mud.
An instant, merciless execution.
The remaining five avatars of Pain froze.
Miles away, hidden deep within the suffocating darkness of his sanctuary, Nagato's emaciated body jolted. Cold sweat beaded on his gaunt forehead.
The sheer, irrational magnitude of that speed and power defied every law of the shinobi world.
Akira lowered his leg, shaking off a loose piece of shrapnel. "Is this the so-called Asura Path? How fragile."
Deva Path's face twisted into a mask of grim calculation.
"Engage him together."
Individual combat was suicide. They needed to overwhelm him.
Preta Path surged to the vanguard, spreading its arms wide to absorb any incoming chakra-based assaults.
Behind it, Animal Path's hands blurred through a rapid sequence of seals, preparing to call forth another horde of colossal summons.
Human Path flanked them, eyes locked on Akira, waiting for the perfect microsecond to strike and rip his soul from his body.
Naraka Path retreated to the absolute rear, positioning itself to summon the King of Hell and restore its fallen comrades.
Their tactical coordination was flawless.
Against any elite shinobi, even a seasoned Kage, this formation spelled absolute, inescapable death.
Unfortunately for them, they were not fighting a Kage.
They were fighting Uchiha Akira.
"Seventh Gate, Gate of Shock. Open."
A pillar of blinding, pale blue sweat-vapor erupted into the storm-darkened sky.
The torrential rain pouring down upon Amegakure hissed and vanished, instantly flash-boiled into nothingness by the terrifying ambient heat radiating from Akira's body.
The very atmosphere beneath his boots compressed and detonated.
"Daytime Tiger!"
Akira threw a single, devastating punch straight into the void.
The sheer, unadulterated velocity and apocalyptic physical force of the strike caught the surrounding atmosphere, violently compressing the air into a localized hurricane.
A colossal, blindingly white tiger forged entirely of hyper-pressurized air roared into existence, tearing through the sky as it lunged forward to crush everything in its path.
'What kind of ninjutsu is this?!'
Preta Path thrust its hands forward, desperately activating the Blocking Technique Absorption Seal. It was an absolute defense, a void capable of devouring any chakra-based attack.
But the moment the roaring white tiger made contact, Preta Path's expression shattered into pure, unadulterated terror.
There was no chakra to drain.
This was not ninjutsu.
It was pure, catastrophic kinetic energy.
The Daytime Tiger swallowed Preta Path whole.
The apocalyptic air pressure ripped the avatar's body apart at the molecular level, scattering its remains like bloody confetti.
The shockwave did not even slow down. It crashed into Animal Path and Human Path with the force of a falling meteor.
Against this devastating, purely physical onslaught, their enhanced bodies were as fragile as wet parchment.
The blinding white shockwave scoured the earth clean.
Wherever the roaring tiger passed, towering skyscrapers snapped like twigs, reinforced steel girders twisted into grotesque knots, and the bedrock itself split wide open.
By the time the deafening roar faded and the thick clouds of pulverized debris began to settle, the battlefield was utterly unrecognizable. A massive, jagged trench had been carved through the heart of the Hidden Rain.
Of the invincible Six Paths of Pain, only Deva Path and the rearguard Naraka Path remained standing, barely clinging to the edges of the devastation.
Miles away, deep within the subterranean bowels of the village.
A solitary, flickering candle cast long, dancing shadows across a gaunt, emaciated face.
Through the shared vision of his surviving avatars, Nagato witnessed the absolute, one-sided slaughter firsthand.
His breath hitched in his throat.
The enemy was too strong. It was a suffocating, impossible power that bred only pure despair.
"Nagato."
A sudden flurry of crisp white origami paper swirled through the damp cavern, coalescing into the elegant, anxious figure of Konan.
"We need to move. Now."
She did not wait for his response. Stepping behind his mechanical walker, she immediately began disconnecting the heavy chakra-transmission rods and life-support cables embedded in his fragile back.
Nagato tilted his head, his dulling Rinnegan fixing upon her face.
"What about the villagers?"
"Do not worry about them," Konan replied, her voice tightly controlled. "I have already ordered our shinobi to organize a mass civilian evacuation through the lower drainage networks. The tunnels lead directly beyond the village borders. They will be safe."
Her tone was measured, but as she unclasped the final locking mechanism, Nagato noticed the faint, uncontrollable tremor in her pale hands.
"I cannot risk leaving you here," she whispered, the strain finally bleeding into her words. "If he discovers your true body, the consequences... I will not let him reach you."
"Where are we going?" Nagato asked, his voice hoarse.
"A secondary fallback facility. Thirty kilometers west of Amegakure."
Konan gripped the handles of his specialized wheelchair. A storm of paper erupted from her shoulders, weaving together to form a massive pair of angelic wings. With a powerful beat, she lifted them both off the cavern floor, gliding swiftly into the dark, winding escape tunnels.
"I originally believed we would never need to use that sanctuary," Konan murmured, a bitter edge cutting through her usual stoicism. "It was constructed as a final retreat, a contingency for a full-scale siege by the combined forces of the Five Great Nations."
She swallowed hard.
"I never expected us to be driven to this point by a single man."
It was humiliating. A total, catastrophic defeat.
As the undisputed leader of the Akatsuki, a being who had elevated himself above mortality to claim the mantle of a living god... today, he was being chased from his own domain like a beaten dog.
Nagato fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
He stared up at the rusted iron pipes blurring past overhead, a deep, agonizing confusion swirling within his rippled eyes.
Had God... truly lost?
Back among the smoking ruins of the battlefield.
Akira stood over the broken form of Naraka Path. With a casual, almost bored motion, he brought his heel down, crushing the avatar's skull into the pulverized concrete.
High above, hovering in the storm-tossed sky, the sole surviving Deva Path stared down at the massacre.
The avatar locked eyes with Akira for one long, silent second. Then, without a word, Deva Path pivoted in mid-air and shot toward the desolate outskirts of Amegakure.
The avatar tore through the rain at breakneck speed.
Akira slowly raised an eyebrow, a dark, dangerous smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Trying to run?"
The cratered earth beneath his boots detonated once more.
Akira vanished from his position, leaving behind nothing but a violently spinning vortex of displaced air.
Fueled by the apocalyptic power of the Seventh Gate, his velocity transcended the boundaries of human limitation.
Two streaks of light—one black, one burning a brilliant, ghostly blue—carved massive, parting trails through the torrential downpour.
Deva Path maintained its desperate, high-speed flight, refusing to look back.
The avatar's objective was singular and absolute: lure the monster away.
Nagato's true body was currently in transit, highly vulnerable. Akira could not be allowed to linger and detect the subtle chakra signatures moving beneath the earth.
also, Deva Path knew the grim reality of their situation.
If a battle of this catastrophic magnitude continued within the village borders for even a few minutes longer... Amegakure would be erased from the map entirely.
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