A Transmigrator’s Story in the Hyuga’s Main Branch

140. Echoes of Betrayal: Pakura’s Fiery Resolve (2)

"Sasori! Are you so afraid to face me on equal ground? Or does the great 'artist' hide behind his creations because he knows he's no match for a true shinobi?",

Her words were calculated, designed to prick at Sasori's pride and goad him into lowering his altitude.

Pakura hoped that by provoking his ego, she might compel him to come close enough for her to launch one final, decisive attack.

As she spoke, she steadied herself, gathering what remained of her chakra, ready to unleash it the moment her adversary made the mistake of coming within range.

Visible signs of her deteriorating condition manifested on her body by this time; her skin, normally vibrant and flushed with the heat of battle, paled and grew clammy.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, not just from the exertion but also from the toxin coursing through her veins, undermining her strength.

Hovering high above the scorched battlefield, Sasori heard Pakura's taunt but was not swayed by her provocation. His voice, tinged with a cold, mocking undertone, drifted down to her from above,

"You mistake caution for fear, Pakura. An artist must not rush; every stroke must be deliberate, every placement precise.",

"Why should I descend when I have the perfect vantage point to observe—and manipulate—the unfolding of my masterpiece?",

He maneuvered the Third Kazekage puppet with renewed focus, the Iron Sand swirling dangerously as he prepared another attack slowly.

This time, it would be an endless barrage of magnetically manipulated and accelerated iron projectiles, extremely fast and sharp, using the natural laws of physics and chakra. 

It was the Third Kazekage's strongest move once he was alive. However, this kind of human puppet couldn't reach the levels of execution that the real owners of those bodies had when they were alive, and even Sasori had to admit that.

His eyes gleamed with a calculated coldness as he observed Pakura's weakened state. "Your end will be a testament to my art, Pakura. You will be immortalized not as a victor but as a permanent reminder of my superiority and best piece so far."

Meanwhile, Pakura's frustration mounted as she watched Sasori's distant, smug expression. Gritting her teeth in anger, she cursed her limitations.

In this crucial moment, the lack of a long-range attack within her repertoire of kekkei genkai techniques felt like a glaring omission.

She regretted not having developed or mastered any techniques that could reach Sasori at his current altitude, which would have allowed her to strike effectively from a distance.

However, despite her current predicament, Pakura also understood deep down that her limitations weren't entirely her fault, including this one.

She felt like she had already done everything she could, trained hard, and given her last atoms of strength in developing this kekkei genkai to the utmost that she could, especially recently after Third Shinobi started. 

As the last known inheritor of the Scorch Release, she had no mentors or family from whom she could learn more about her bloodline and potential new techniques externally as she was just an orphan born and raised in the Sunagakure Orphanage, and her unique abilities emerged from a long-dormant gene of some of her unknown ancestors as she was told.

The more 'official' bearers of this kekkei genkai, including the clan that this bloodline was mainly associated with, had long since perished, leaving her with no surname and also leaving her to navigate those powers, whether they were a gift or a curse, all alone from the very beginning without any help.

The Scorch Release was formidable, one of the strongest powers in the Land of Wind and the Sunagakure; its users could vaporize virtually anything.

Its chakra was so intense that it could easily dry up the human body, leaving nothing but withered husks or charred bones.

In warfare, her abilities had been leveraged to alter landscapes, turning fertile fields into tinder ready for the flames.

Such devastating applications earned Scorch Release users a fearsome reputation marked by a blend of awe and dread.

In the Land of Wind, where this kekkei genkai originated, old superstitions blamed these bloodline holders for the omnipresent desert's endless expansion and the harshness of the desert sun people experienced.

This legacy of fear and power led to eventual persecution from the villagers of Sunagakure, who either feared or coveted her abilities.

However, despite her challenging background, Pakura had felt a sense of belonging in Sunagakure after graduating from the ninja academy.

Recognized early for her talents and potential, she was seemingly fully integrated into the village community, receiving the same rights and privileges as her fellow shinobi, at least in her impression, nowadays even respected by many villagers and shinobi as their new "hero" and hope for changing their fate.

And she was naively basking in all of that glory, not realizing what was happening behind the curtains.

This acceptance at face value also only fueled her dedication to the village's cause, as she often placed its needs above her own.

She was even prepared to lay down her life for Sunagakure, believing deeply in their support and acceptance of her, even up until a few minutes ago.

However, the recent revelations shook her to the core. Learning that the village leadership still viewed her as just another disposable weapon, much like her predecessors, was a profound betrayal.

It cast a stark new light on her life, revealing that the acceptance she cherished might have been conditional, based solely on her usefulness rather than genuine respect for her as an individual.

The fact that she was targeted for elimination the moment she was perceived as a threat, despite having no ambitions for leadership, underscored this cruel reality.

As she confronted Sasori, these painful truths ignited a fierce determination within her. The despair mingled with a resolute desire to demonstrate her value beyond mere utility.

She was more than a weapon; she was a formidable shinobi with her own will and identity.

Pakura's resolve hardened as she prepared to unleash the full might of her kekkei genkai. This wasn't just about survival anymore—it was about defiance.

She was ready to stand against those who sought to use her and avenge the betrayal of those she had once trusted.

At this moment, Pakura was not just fighting Sasori; she was battling for her dignity and the right to be seen as more than just a tool of war and a pawn of the village's nobility like Rasa.

However, just as Pakura tapped into that deeper, more furious power from her bloodline, feeling it awaken and surge within her like never before, her body began to betray her.

The profound breakthrough in her bloodline's innate limits, which should have been her ultimate weapon, arrived at a cruel time.

The poison in her veins reacted violently, all of that fateful transformation, coming straight from her blood and soul now weakened her temporarily further instead of empowering her and allowing her to achieve victory right away.

Her eyelids grew heavy, and she was wracked with pain that seemed to echo through her very being. Despite the agony, Pakura's spirit refused to yield.

She sensed the potential for a devastating ranged attack burgeoning within her, a power that could potentially obliterate Sasori if she could only harness it for a few more seconds.

Yet, as her strength surged, it paradoxically rendered her even more vulnerable, a side effect of the poison exacerbating her body's rebellion against her will.

Sasori, ever observant and ruthlessly efficient, saw his opportunity in her moment of weakness and the extraordinary danger that threatened his own life at that moment.

So, he urgently launched a blindingly fast electromagnetically launched attack using those iron projectiles.

The projectiles tore through the wind, their speed so great that not even the residual heat from Pakura's earlier attacks could melt them in time.

As the deadly shards closed in, Pakura's thoughts raced, 'Is this really the end now? Damn, why like this... I don't want to die yet... Not while Sunagakure is still led by such people...',

Her indignation at the betrayal mixed with a crushing sense of inevitability. She had fought to reshape her destiny, attempt to change the Sunagakure next, and prove her worth beyond being a weapon, yet as the iron shards approached, she felt a profound despair.

Pakura braced for the impact, her resolve unwavering even in the face of death. She clung to her determination, hoping against all odds for a chance to turn the tide, to strike back against the injustice that had marred her life and the village she had once proudly served.

Sasori's voice, tinged with an unusual hint of respect at this time, carried clearly across the battlefield as he addressed Pakura,

"Even I must concede, Pakura, you are truly remarkable. A female shinobi of your caliber appears but once in a generation. Your strength rivals the Third Kazekage's, yet you are much younger than he was when I ended him. Given your potential, I have no doubt you could have even surpassed him in power eventually, especially after seeing this right now."

He paused, his tone shifting back to his usual cold, calculating demeanor, "It would have been interesting to see the changes you might have brought to Sunagakure. But turning you into my personal puppet... that intrigues me more.",

"And honestly, with your previous personality, dealing with Rasa and his circle of nobles was never in your cards. You've always been too naive, Pakura. Only those like me, who truly realize the only truth that nothing really matters outside of your own desires, in my case, my art, truly thrive in this world."

However, Sasori's final words fell into deft areas, as Pakura felt the imminent approach of death. The projectiles were already piercing the space before her, ready to strike, muting all the other sounds with the wind-howling buzzing in her ears.

In this fleeting moment, her life seemed to hang delicately in balance. Fear of the unknown crept in, mixed with a surge of regret for the future she would never see and the changes she could have brought to Sunagakure with this newfound rising power and her personal revelations at this last moment,

She could've brought sanctuary to all of the civilian shinobi of this village who always respected her greatly and were in the same plight as her, constantly used as tools by the Kazekage clan mainly and of all the other minor nobles.

Yet, amidst this fear, Pakura felt a stubborn spark of defiance. She had lived as a devoted shinobi and would face her end with the same unyielding spirit.

There was bitterness, too, at the betrayal of her village—a place she had served with loyalty, now 'turned against her' figuratively.

As the cold iron neared, her resolve hardened. If this was her end, she would meet it head-on, her gaze steady and her heart steadfast, embodying the strength of her kekkei genkai to the last. Yet, her final thoughts were laced with anguish at her village and the world.

However, as the deadly shards hovered mere inches away from Pakura, ready to deliver their fatal blow, an unexpected turn of events unfolded.

A sudden presence materialized right behind her, and inexplicably, the iron projectiles lost all momentum and dropped harmlessly to the ground like discarded scrap metal in the next second.

Startled and confused, Pakura instinctively turned her head to identify her unexpected savior.

Standing there was a male teen, his presence both calm and imposing. He wore a simple, unusual, dark blue traditional kimono, contrasting sharply with the chaos around them.

A Konoha headband was loosely attached to his waist. His hair was as dark as his attire, but his eyes caught her attention—they were an uncharacteristic, stark white, a notable trait of a certain bloodline-holding clan in another great shinobi village they were at war with now.

In a moment of stunned realization, Pakura gasped, her voice a mix of strange hope and disbelief, "H-Hikari Hyuga!" 

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