Saruto | The Celestial War (Part 2)

Chapter 11: Tomb of Chains

As chains escaped my torso, I directed the chakra made offense towards the flooding zetsu puppets.

"Argh!" ChoCho Akimichi grunted as she struggled against the hordes of puppets infused with Otsutsuki chakra.

Immediately, I stretched my hand holding my black sword into the direction of her and overwhelmed them. I watched as the chains wrapped around the puppets. Everyone of the First Division stood in awe as the chains took off the battlefield and restrained every zetsu puppet in my range. Infusing my chaos chakra into the chains, each of my enemies burned at the touch of the chains on their lifeless bodies. In a golden glow, I lifted every zetsu puppet entangled in my Adamantine Sealing Chains in the air allowing for the First Division to take advantage of the opening and slice through each puppet, killing them. Twisting and turning with my chains in a skilled manner, I sliced through the zetsu puppets that were too close for the range of my chakra chains.

This was a secret sealing technique from my Uzumaki clan heritage. As a child, I was given a book on the technique written by my ancestor, Ashina Uzumaki, who had mastered the teaching dating all the way back to Ashura Otsutsuki. Users are able to produce chains made out of their own chakra and control the chains as they extend from their body. Before my time, this technique was used to wrap around, restrain and seal the tailed beasts. It was a strong and unbreakable technique that only people of the Uzumaki clan and a selected few outside the clan know. The chains were extremely durable and almost impossible to destroy, however, my chaos chakra made them completely unbreakable. In addition to physically binging targets, the chains neutralized targets by binding and nullifying their chakra.

My great-grandmother, Kushina Uzumaki, was a skilled user of this technique.

Depending on the number and the length of the chains intended to be produced, users in the past preferred to initially create only a few chains, which they would send underground to split apart and spread around the area as needed, leaving their immediate surrounding uncluttered.

With this knowledge, I slammed the limp puppets into the ground, I watched them disappear into the depths of the ground.

Next to me, First Division Commander Yurui of the Hidden Cloud, slid on the ground. In the corner of my eye, I could see him get up from his defensive fall. He then proceeded to pop bubble gum in his mouth.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

Unlike the majority of the population of Kumogakure, Commander Yurui had fair skin, unruly spiked blonde hair, and gray eyes. On his left cheek was a tattoo of a bull's horn which showed his allegiance to his late superior Killer B. He wore a standard Kumogakure flak jacket, complete with a white Shinobi Alliance forehead protector and baggy pants. He also carried a gold chair around his neck with the head of Gyuki, the eight tailed beast, and two Super Vibrato Lightning Release Swords on his back.

"Saruto!" Yurui spoke harshly, calling my attention to him, "Wrap up your mess and help me with the big guy!"

Looking towards the distance from which he flew from, I could see a zetsu puppet that was radiating with Otsutsuku chakra, Kaushiki's chakra. It was at a towering sight in the distance and leveled the ground with every step it took in our direction. I nodded as I defeated the last of the puppets in my chains.

"Gyuki," he said religiously, "lend me your strength."

Yurui had been known to have an arrogant personality as he looked down on other shinobi villages, in particular, the Hidden Leaf. My father had told me that they had fought as kids in the Chunin Exams and Yurui openly taunted those who he believed were inferior to him. Jumping to conclusions, calling my father weak, even though he had not seen him fight and being the Hokage's son. He also had a controlling nature. However, after the death of my father and the attack on the Hidden Lead all those years ago, his opinion of my father and village had changed, having a sort of respect for our ability to never give up. After my father's funeral he had even paid his respects to me.