Despite the blinding speed of Aizen's Water Burst Clones, Pakura, as a quasi-Kage-level ninja, could barely register their movements. However, she no longer needed to evade or counter.
"Scorch Style: Explosive Steam Kill!"
Pakura's voice carried the solemn weight of finality as she activated her ultimate technique. Her chakra surged toward her core, condensing with terrifying intensity. A searing heat began radiating from her body, the air around her shimmering as temperatures skyrocketed.
High in the air, Aizen's sharp senses caught the sudden spike in chakra and heat. He narrowed his eyes, his gaze locking onto Pakura as her chakra reached its peak.
Rather than the thunderous explosion one might expect, a low, resonant hum filled the battlefield. A crimson light burst forth, illuminating the area for a thousand meters around, followed by an oppressive wave of heat that warped the air and scorched the ground.
Aizen's Water Burst Clones, composed entirely of water, began to dissolve under the extreme heat, evaporating into steam. Even the rain from Cutting Rain turned to mist before it could touch the ground.
Far above, nearly 200 meters in the air, Aizen felt the heat wave brushing against him. A faint smile crept across his face.
"Scorch Style indeed hides its surprises," he murmured. "But this gambit… it's clearly a one-time move."
The intense heat endured for a full minute, leaving the battlefield a blistering inferno. When it finally subsided, Pakura stood at its epicenter. Her body, blackened and withered like charred wood, collapsed lifelessly onto the scorched ground.
As her chakra faded, the oppressive heat receded, allowing the rain of Cutting Rain to resume. The droplets fell gently, extinguishing the lingering embers.
Pakura's sacrifice had not been in vain—she had bought Rasa precious time to escape.
From his vantage point, Aizen's spiritual network still covered dozens of kilometers. Rasa's desperate retreat through the sand was clearly visible to him. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes, but he made no move to pursue.
"Letting him go will make things... more interesting," Aizen mused, dissipating the rain and descending gracefully to the ground.
Suppressing his abilities to this level had already made his battle with Rasa and Pakura a spectacle that would ripple across the ninja world. To also kill Rasa would draw too much attention, even for him.
As Aizen dismissed his Water Style Chakra Mode, Namikaze Minato appeared in the distance, accompanied by Yama Commander Yama. Minato's figure was dusty from battle, but his warm smile was undiminished.
"You're fast, Aizen," Minato remarked with a knowing grin, surveying the battlefield. "I take it everything went according to plan?"
Aizen gestured casually to the chaos around them. "It went smoothly, though if you had arrived a little sooner, Rasa wouldn't have gotten away."
Minato chuckled, his expression playfully exaggerated. "Sounds like I'm holding you back."
The first time Minato had encountered Aizen in his Water Style Chakra Mode, he had underestimated the sheer adaptability and ingenuity of Aizen's techniques. Even with Minato's unparalleled speed and tactical mastery, he had been forced to rely on the Flying Thunder God Technique to escape the suffocating range of Cutting Rain.
For Minato, such an outcome was merely another battle well-fought. But for others, like Commander Yama, it was a revelation.
As Aizen recounted the defeat of Pakura, the renowned Scorch Style kunoichi, Commander Yama stood frozen, as though struck by lightning.
"Pakura... is dead?"
The words echoed in his mind, disbelief etched into his expression.
Pakura wasn't just a top-tier kunoichi; she was a living legend, feared across the entire ninja world. Her Scorch Style techniques had turned countless battlefields into fiery graveyards.
And yet, not only was she defeated, but she had fallen in tandem with Rasa, another elite wielder of Magnet Style.
This was the sort of feat most ninja wouldn't even dare dream of. But Aizen had accomplished it, seemingly without breaking a sweat.
"Minato, how did your mission go?" Aizen's calm voice brought the conversation back to the present.
Minato gave a confident smile. "It's done. None of the ninjas above Jōnin level in this army survived."
He hesitated, his expression clouding slightly. "Even so, we lost nine Special Jōnin and four Jōnin in the chaos. It's unavoidable—Sand Shinobi's elites are skilled, and when they began countering the effects of your mist, they struck back hard against our infiltrators."
Commander Yama stepped forward, his voice filled with respect.
"Lord Minato, after this battle, we've only suffered minor elite casualties. In exchange, we've annihilated the entire vanguard of Sand Shinobi, including Pakura, who fell to Lord Aizen's hand. The number of ordinary Sand Shinobi who perished in the chaos? Countless.
"This is a decisive victory! Those who fell in battle would be proud to know their sacrifices brought us this triumph. Please, don't be too hard on yourself."
Minato sighed softly, his usual warm demeanor tinged with regret.
"Yama's right, Minato," Aizen interjected, his voice steady. "War is never clean. Losses are inevitable, and expecting otherwise is unrealistic."
He allowed a small, almost mischievous smile to curl his lips. "Besides, now isn't the time to dwell on casualties. There's still one final battle ahead, and I suspect it will be far more challenging than this."