Hey guys, I'm sorry for being gone so long, but I HAVE RETURNED! To those who are still following this story, I thank you all! Now, some have messaged me about my story being updated but no new chapters; this is because I went and redid some of the earlier chapters, in particular chapter 19 (Please consider reading that one again, I would love some feedback on it. Now then, here we go!

"Naruto Uzumaki" Normal speech

"Naruto Uzumaki" Normal thoughts

"Kurama" Big guy speech

"Kurama" Big guy thoughts

"Rasengan" Jutsus

Chapter 69

While the Varden was having the battle of an era, Arya was making sure she and the rest of her party made it through the trap-infested hallway in one piece. Behind them laid smoking remains of several spells and traps of increasing deadliness that still triggered despite them floating down the long corridor. Because they wanted to conserve as much energy as possible while revealing as few trump cards as possible, what should have taken mere minutes or even seconds turned into a nearly hour long ordeal.

Next to Saphira, Eragon watched Arya disable yet another protective ward that would have caused something to plummet from the ceiling upon any disturbance in the air. After the ward was undone, a well-concealed panel slowly lowered, revealing dozens of crystalline spikes that glowed a deep, ominous purple. Although he didn't recognize the material or spells on the spikes, he had no doubt they were meant to be fatal, and gruesomely so.

"To think Galbatorix was paranoid enough to ward the air itself, and with such deadly spells. Had it not been for you and Naruto's training, I have no doubt we would be nothing more than ashes in the wind." Then he frowned.

"But wasn't his goal to capture Saphira, alive and whole, and breed a new generation of Dragon Riders? Why are all the spells designed to kill rather than incapacitate?"

Though he trusted his queen's daughter and her power, Blödhgarm continued to cautiously peer at the walls and floor with his amber eyes, his muscles tight and ready for action. Turning to Eragon, he grimly answered, "Perhaps he thought we would already be captured by the less fatal pits near the entrance, or maybe…"

"Or maybe he knows we were taught by the only man who utterly destroyed him at the height of his power, Naruto, and thus doesn't know what we can do. And that frightens him." A clear voice rang out from the front as Arya put in her two cents.

Oromis nodded his head with a contemplative hum. "Arya Svit-kona is correct. Although one of Galbatorix's greatest desires is to create an army of Dragon Riders who answers only to him, his own safety and absolute power comes first. Even if it means killing off the one known method of bringing back the dragons and the Riders, as long it's a threat, he'll do it in a heartbeat."

A flash of understanding lit up in Eragon's eyes at Arya's and Oromis's words. It made sense, in a twisted way; if you had a weapon you couldn't control, it was better to destroy it.

That didn't mean it made him feel any better.

"Hmph, we didn't expect any mercy from the Egg-Breaker anyways, Little One: only victory, or death." Saphira disdainfully snorted at the very thought of being at the mercy of the man who almost exterminated her race. Beside her, Glaedr rumbled his agreement; he would sooner have his wings torn off and Eldunari shattered before willingly serve the mad king. And although they spoke no words, both of their Riders agreed.

Only victory, or death.

Walking past the deactivated trap, they made their way to a mere hundred feet from the golden doors when Arya halted them.

This was nothing new as she had stopped their progress multiple times through their route to consult with them the best way of bypassing the deadly spells. But this time, something was different.

"What's wrong Arya? Did some-" Just as Eragon began to question his companion, a group of twenty black-robed humans, men and women alike, filed out of a side passageway and formed a line ahead of them, blocking the way, the words of the ancient language on the tips of their tongues.

Frowning, he felt a blade of thought stab into his mind and as he glanced around, the young Rider saw similar expressions on most of his comrades' faces. Normally no human spellcaster could possibly match an elf or Rider in either mind or body. But these men and women cared nothing about any damage done to them, or if they died, as they abandoned any form of defense in favor of a frightening offense.

Roaring, Saphira and Glaedr unleashed a torrent of sapphire and golden flames, their fiery rage bathing the decadent hallway and their attackers. But compared to the smoldering remains of the hanging banners and molten gold, the spellcasters remained unfazed, their wards forcing the flames to pass by them harmlessly. Instead, it merely made them mutter even faster, their words merging into a near incoherent babble as the air became charged with chakra.

"Enough of this." With a casual flick of her mind Arya, one of only three unaffected by the surprise assault, directly crushed the mind of her attacker before stomping on the floor in front of her. What came next shocked Eragon and the others.

Instantly, a horizontal piece of lusterless metal - thirty feet long and four inches thick - shot out of each wall with a terrible screech. The plates of metal caught the magicians between them and severed them in two, like a giant pair of snips, then just as quickly retreated back into their hidden slots.

Silence, along with the fresh smell of blood and guts, filled the air.

"What a horrible way to die." Although they were on opposite sides, the sheer brutality and suddenness of their deaths sickened Eragon. It wasn't everyday you saw a group of people capable of controlling others and, to a limited extent, warp reality get scissored in half in the blink of an eye.

"But how should we get past this? The trap seems to activate around waist level. While Arya and I could just run on the walls, the others can't. So...Arya, could you fly us over the blades?" Eragon tapped the pommel of Brisingr as he considered his options before settling on the simplest one. But to his disappointment, Arya lightly shook her head, the corners of her mouth pointed down in slight frustration.

"No, there are many more sets of similar blades going all the way up to the ceiling, and all of them will activate the moment we go above a certain level; unfortunately with Saphira's and Glaedr-elda's height, it is inevitable they will trigger. But that's not the greatest of our concerns; the blades themselves are protected by that word, so unless we reveal one of our secrets, there is no method to disable them through the ancient language, in a short time at least."

With her words, Eragon and the elves grew quiet as they pondered on what to do. Every single trump card they possessed was incomparably precious against an incomparably sly opponent like Galbatorix. To use even one of them was to lower their already moderate chance of victory by a substantial amount. Even Oromis, the most experienced of them all, couldn't come up with a suitable solution in such a short time. Perhaps if they had another hour or so, he could find a way around the problem.

But there simply wasn't any time left. With the assault on Urû'baen under way, every second mattered, and even with Naruto insuring none of the Varden leadership died, it would be a pyrrhic victory at best for both sides if they took too long.

While Arya listened to Umaroth argue against the use of a teleportation spell, her lips pursed together into a thin line as her eyes began to emit a brilliant radiance. "Then there's only one choice left. I didn't want to reveal it this early, but there's no other way." Casting a last glance at the hidden blades once more, she pivoted to face the others.

"While you all make your way down the hallway, I will hold off the blades."

For a moment, it looked as if Eragon wanted to argue. However, in the end, he merely nodded his support. There was no use in quarreling now. Seeing nobody try to dissuade her, Arya flexed her hands as chakra began to surge through her.

"Very well, get ready to run."

The dragons and the elves tensed, their muscles tight with anticipation as they knelt close to the ground. Not even Eragon knew to what extent Arya could hold out for without draining too much of her reserves; all they could do was sprint out as fast as they could to reduce her burden.

"Go!"

Stepping forward, Arya sprang the trap, her brows scrunched in concentration as she prevented over 400 tons of enchanted steel from slicing both her and her friends to bits. Had it been just steel, she wouldn't have any problem with holding the heavy blades back for several hours, never mind a few seconds. But she wasn't Naruto; the name of names still affected her enough that already she could feel the minor drain on her massive chakra reserves from holding them back.

A jarring crash sounded from each wall as threads of dust fell from the ceiling, blossoming into hazy plumes. As silent as shadows, Eragon and the elves darted down the hall, the two dragons bounding forth with their heads and tails low. Though it took them only a few seconds to cross the deadly gap, on every step of the way, they could feel the threatening pressure exuded by the rattling sheets of metal as they fought against their imprisonment. If Arya faltered for even a second, it wouldn't matter who it was, be it dragon or elf; all would suffer the same gruesome deaths as their deceased enemies.

Once they were all past the deadly contraption and corpses, Eragon shouted out, "Alright, we're across! You can let go now!"

Noticing they were no longer in danger, Arya slowly exhaled before abruptly redirecting her chakra throughout her body, her fingers locked in a one-handed tiger hand seal as she flickered from existence, her form nearly invisible as she shunshin'd behind the waiting group.

CLANG!

"Arya Svit-kona/Dröttningu!" Alarmed shouts arose from the elves when their queen's daughter disappeared from view, the bloody blades mercilessly hacking where she once stood. Only the dragons and their Dragon Riders appeared unconcerned for her safety, a smirk on their faces.

Finally, it was Blödhgarm who first noticed the sound of an additional person breathing behind them. Gesturing towards the ten spellcasters, they turned to the scene of Arya, Eragon, and Saphira shooting amused looks at their elders.

"Shall we continue? There are no more obstacles between here and the doors except for one, but as long we hold the Dauthdaert, no harm should come to us." Waving her hand, Niernen was once again unsealed as she made her way towards the end of the hallway.

It was Oromis and Glaedr who first moved, with Blödhgarm and his spellweavers a close second. Although questions raced through all their minds, from what her new eyes could do to how she could possibly move so fast that she vanished from their combined sight, none of that was important right now.

So what if she could move far beyond the speed of sound, or if she hold back tons of metal designed to cut through any enchantments? Her loyalty to her race and the good of Alagaesia was never in doubt, not even when she fell in love with some foreigner nobody knew.

And so they would shelve their innate curiosity...for now.

Without the threat of anymore traps or wards, they quickly made their way to the golden doors. Towering over them all, over even Saphira and Glaedr who stood more than 60 feet from the ground, Eragon looked up at the shining expanse of gold.

Embossed across their surface was a life-sized oak tree, the leaves of which formed an arching canopy that joined with the roots below to inscribe a great circle about the trunk. Sprouting from either side of the trunk's midsection were two thick bundles of branches, which divided the space within the circle into quarters. In the top-left quarter was a carving of an army of spear-bearing elves marching through a thick forest. In the top-right quarter were humans building castles and forging swords. In the bottom left, Urgals—Kull, mostly—burning down a village and killing the inhabitants. In the bottom right, dwarves mining caves filled with gems and veins of ore. Amid the roots and branches of the oak, Eragon spotted werecats and the Ra'zac, as well as a few small strange-looking creatures that he failed to recognize. And coiled in the very center of the bole of the tree was a dragon that held the end of its tail in its mouth, as if biting itself. The doors were beautifully crafted. Under different circumstances, he would have been content to sit and study them for most of a day.

Instead, all he could feel as he stared at the shining door was dread as he contemplated the events that led Saphira and him here, and what still laid ahead. Like what would happen after killing Galbatorix? Would Alagaesia truly become a better place under the Varden's leadership? How should the Dragon Rider Order exist and function from now on?

Should it even exist?

Countless questions without definite answers circled his mind, questions that would probably trouble him till the end of his days. Then, before his doubts could deepen, a wave of warmth washed over his being. Widening his eyes, Eragon recognized the energy signature flowing through his chakra pathways to be the same one he felt on the plateau of the Burning Plains. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth as he thought back to Naruto's parting words..

But if you don't believe in yourself, look around you! Saphira, Oromis, Glaedr, Blödhgarm, Arya, Asura, Ajihad, Islanzadí, Hrothgar, me, and even those two assholes Grimrr and Orrin are all here with you. You do not stand alone in this fight!

"I am not alone in this fight." Turning around, Eragon stared at the glimmering sapphire dragon.

"Hey."

Blinking her big blue eyes, Saphira turned away from the gleaming doors to her Rider.

"What is it Eragon?"

Walking forward, he surprised her by suddenly laying his head against her leathery snout, his hands on both sides of her jaws and eyes misty with memories. No matter how large she grew or how terrifying she was to ordinary men and women, he would forever remember the days when he could hold the over 100 foot long dragon in the palm of his hand, a time when his greatest worry was getting found out by his uncle and cousin.

"I love you Saphira."

Tilting her head in mild surprise, Saphira closed her eyes as she gently nuzzled into her other half's embrace.

"I love you too, Little One."

For a moment, they stood like that, man and dragon, their breaths and heartbeats perfectly synchronized as they took solace in each other's minds. Taking a deep breath, Eragon pulled away, his hazy eyes now sharp and focused for the fight ahead.

"Are you ready, Eragon-finireal?" Oromis serenely gazed at his pupil, a pale hand on the Dauthdaert's shaft. Behind them, the elven spellweavers were arranged about the weapon, each laying a hand on it.

"No...but we are as ready as we ever will be." The corners of the aged elf's eyes crinkled in approval at the younger Rider's honest response. False bravado was the first step to failure, a step many humans and younger elves tended to stumble on, and one they couldn't afford right now. Drawing Naegling, Oromis watched as Eragon reached out to a handle set within the left-hand door and pulled. Beside him, Arya held Islingr, sword of the first Eragon and the last head of the Dragon Rider Order Vrael, its pure white blade radiating the slight brilliance of a star.

But as he did, a column of shimmering air abruptly materialized around Blödhgarm and each of his ten spellcasters. However, upon coming within several inches of them, a faint cyan barrier originating from Niernen crackled to life, the eerie green nimbus about its barbed spearhead brighter than ever as its ancient spells fought against whatever final trap Galbatorix planted.

"Hurry, we don't know whether Niernen's wards can hold." Arya quickly ushered the group in as she pulled on the right-hand door, a feat already beyond that of any normal human, to let the much larger dragons through.

On the other side of the cavernous archway was a huge, dark chamber. As they filed in, Eragon cautiously looked about, unsure of its size, for the walls lay hidden in velvet shadows. On his right side, Arya also scanned the room, a deep frown etched on her fair face, not liking what she saw. Although the Tenseigan could see through all of creation, this room and the rest of the those behind the golden archway were like the sun, blinding her because of the numerous countless spells, enchantments, and wards, both protective and auxiliary, that covered every inch of the castle.

A line of flameless lanterns mounted on iron poles ran straight out from either side of the entranceway, illuminating the patterned floor and little else, while a faint glow came from above through crystals set within the distant ceiling. The two rows of lanterns ended over five hundred feet away, near the base of a broad dais, upon which rested a throne. On the throne sat a single black figure, the only visible one in the whole room, and flat on his lap lay a bare sword of dull azure, its blue an even darker shade than that of Brisingr.

And what Arya saw alarmed her. But before she could warn her comrades, the golden doors swung shut behind them with a foreboding thud. As the echoes faded to dusky silence within the high presence chamber, the figure upon the throne stirred, as if waking from sleep, and then a voice - a voice such as Eragon had never heard before: deep and rich and imbued with authority greater than that of Ajihad, Hrothgar or even Oromis, a voice that made even the elves' seem harsh and discordant - resounded forth from the far side of the throne room.

And it said, "Ah, I have been expecting you. Welcome to my humble abode. And welcome to you in particular, Eragon Shadeslayer, and to you, Saphira Brightscales. I have much desired to meet with you. And of course the wisest of all, Oromis and the magnificent Glaedr, Blödhgarm - son of Ildrid the Beautiful, Umaroth, Valdr, and those others who travel with you seen and unseen. I had long believed them to be dead, and I am most glad to learn otherwise."

The voice then paused while a near undetectable malicious tone entered. "And you, Arya Dröttningu - daughter of Islanzadí, Shadeslayer in your own right, and lover of the mighty God of Slaughter, Naruto Uzumaki. Long have I heard tales of your peerless beauty and even greater power, but seeing you now...the rumors truly do not do justice to your exquisite visage and most impressive display." A pair of black orbs flashed as its owner raised his arms.

"Welcome, all! We have much to talk about."

xXx

As the group led by Eragon and Arya made contact with the enemy, a certain ashen-haired lass was currently having her toughest fight yet in the battle.

"Huff...why...clang!...won't...huff huff...YOU JUST DIE ALREADY?" A frustrated shout tore out of Ciri's dry throat as she hacked and slashed down at the invisible barrier surrounding a particularly stubborn man.

"Hahaha! Useless, useless, useless! I don't know what kind of freak you are, but you and your monster friends will all meet your deaths here!"

The unknown man - human, if Ciri judged him correctly by his rounded ears...if humans were capable of casually batting aside a sword fueled with enough strength to smack down a rampaging rock troll- raucously laughed while taunting her as he tried to goad the flickering woman to overreach, to make a fatal error. For although he held the edge in strength and durability, his augmented speed absolutely paled in comparison to Ciri's.

It didn't help that the large bulky Eldunari attached to the side of his hips kept on swaying about and hindering his movements; near the beginning of the fight, when she was still slightly careless after mowing down hundreds of similar-looking men, he almost lacerated her from hip to shoulder on their second exchange, only for his elbow to knock against the cumbersome object, making him miss by less than an inch. Even now, he could remember the utter shock on her scarred, yet fair face. But, much to his frustration, it proved to be the last time he got close to injuring her as she suddenly started teleporting around him, surrounding his person in a flood of flickering steel and magic.

Still, he couldn't very well abandon it, especially when it was the only reason he was able to keep up with the unknown woman.

But he was beginning to worry. Though confident he could kill the wench in due time, she already delayed him from his assault on Hrothgar, King of the Dwarves. No doubt, his absence has already been noted by his fellow Eldunari-bearers who will surely report this to the king after the battle.

And that monster didn't forgive failure.

Off to the side, a pair of violet ringed eyes peered from the shadows as Naruto observed how Ciri darted around the man, both physically and magically, sparks flying as her sword encountered resistance from both steel and enchanted flesh. He would not help in this fight unless she was in immediate danger as this was both training and a test wrapped up in one.

Would she stay calm and collected even in the face of adversity, or snap under the pressure and recklessly attack her enemy?

"And who knows, maybe something surprising may come out of it."

But there was another problem he had to deal with; the main army of the Varden had finally encountered its respective Eldunari-bearer...and it wasn't looking pretty. Although he had already intercepted a few other Eldunari wielders such as the one Ciri was dueling, this one was particularly gruesome. Scanning the situation through the eyes of one of his Paths - Tobirama - the space between Naruto's golden eyebrows furrowed as he watched the slaughter between a particular General Barst and a number of elves, humans, and Urgals...with the slaughter being on the side of the Varden.

When he had seen the first of many elves get thrown into the air like a rag doll from the general's oversized spiked mace, the blond knew something was wrong. Even with the Eldunari, Barst shouldn't have been able to outright kill or maim an elf with a single blow due to their extensive wards. It was only after he carefully observed the city itself did he grudgingly sigh in admiration.

"As much as I despise the man, Galbatorix truly is a genius in the art of magic. To think he managed to not only place a barrier capable of subtly changing the nature of spells and wards, yet not outright negate them while keeping his own safe from the effects in such a short time since our fight without me noticing...even after I erased the name of the ancient language from his soul and mind. How cunning." Naruto narrowed his eyes. "In a way, he reminds me of a young Sasuke before I reformed him with my fists."

But that was neither here nor there.

That's because right now two of his wards, Ajihad and Queen Islanzadí, had just rode out to meet the general head-on with her elven escort. But despite her formidable power, Naruto knew there could only be one end to the fight.

Death.

And he couldn't let that happen, especially not Arya's mother.

"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!" Creating over twenty clones of himself, Naruto continued to monitor Ciri's duel while taking control of the Paths nearest to the Varden leaders. No one enjoyed surprises during battle, let alone a veteran shinobi. As for the others...

"Go see what the others are up to; something's not right." He'd long noticed that the vast majority of Eldunari holders stayed where they were, not even moving an inch despite the invading army. In fact, only a few, iincluding the one Ciri was fighting right now - even bothered to do as Galbatorix ordered from what his clone overheard, though only the man in front of him and General Barst still lived…

Poor guys weren't even able to scream before Asura reduced them to nothing with his black flames.

"Just how unlucky were they to encounter one of the only beings on the continent capable of instantly killing them?" Naruto briefly mused before a frown marked his face. "But why aren't they all rushing out to exterminate the Varden's leaders? Wasn't that the plan? Unless…" Naruto's eyes widened as a dreadful thought wormed its way through his mind, the facts he did know beginning to connect.

"...he knew of my clone. And if that's the case..." He cast a worried glance towards the dark citadel.

"Arya!"

xXx

It was a mess.

That was the only word Ajihad could use to describe the disordered situation in the street from atop his steed. The once neat and tidy lines of infantry now mingled together in such a chaotic mix that it was impossible to determine lines or ranks or even where the front of the battle was. Clusters of crimson laid scattered about the main street as the fighting spilled out into the nearby branch passages.

But that's not what worried him.

"LEADER OF THE REBEL SCUM, DO YOU DARE TO MEET ME IN HONEST BATTLE? OR ARE YOU TOO CRAVEN?" Right in the center of the street and blocking the way with a small mountain of broken bodies sat General Barst upon his grey charger, blood and bits of gore dripping from the head of his giant mace, which was currently pointed his way.

It was an ugly thing, composed of a haft almost as thick that of a mature sapling and ending with a dark piece of twisted steel covered in a host of cruel barbed spikes. Its reach alone could rival that of a longsword; its length and size almost comical if not for the steady stream of blood that dripped down its length.

However, such idle thoughts quickly evaporated once the general began to casually swing the monstrosity of a weapon about like a baton and single-handedly slaughter hundreds of men and women, no matter their species.

"Damnit." Ajihad swore under his breath as he watched another salvo of arrows and bolts vanish in puffs of sickly orange flame while swords and spears simply bounced off of him like he were made of stone. Earlier, he had even witnessed a full charge made up of several 8 feet Kull fail to budge the man from his horse before they were clobbered to death, their horns and skulls shattered apart like brittle eggshells.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was powering the general's superhuman speed and strength, especially with that giant bulge under his breastplate.

"Eldunari, and maybe more than one." Although he had expected this kind of encounter sooner or later, it still shocked Ajihad how helpless they were against such a foe. Inwardly, he cursed the man who quoted the strength of an individual was insignificant in comparison to an army; clearly whoever said this never encountered someone wielding an Eldunari. Shouting out, the leader of the Varden ordered his men to retreat from the senseless bloodbath below.

But that was not the worst of the news. If it were just the Eldunari, the numerous elves would have been more than enough to whittle down its energy reserves before going in for the kill with either sword or magic.

However, for some reason, the further they penetrated into the city, the more likely magic went awry or simply ceased to work. At first, it was something minor, like a simple spell that should have stopped all arrows lasting a second shorter than it should have or one meant to close lacerations only working on the surface level. While odd, Ajihad eventually put it out of his mind, attributing it to his spellcaster's mental fatigue as he assigned another, fresh magician to temporarily take his place.

But it only grew worse.

Barely another hundred feet in, an elf casted a spell on an enemy commander, only for one of the guards by Ajihad's side to suddenly burst up in a conflagration of sickly green. His harrowing screams as he burned to cinders from the inside out still chilled them all to the bone, especially when it could have easily been them. From then on, magic was strictly regulated, or at least until they met the monster of a general.

Not that it helped as no spell, even when properly cast, was able to pierce through Barst's seemingly impregnable wards.

"Even counting the number of awry spells, at least a hundred magical attacks must have impacted him, yet the wards protecting Barst remain as strong as ever. That, or he is impervious to magic itself." Ajihad grimaced when he saw the hopeless expressions on the men's faces while plan after plan, scheme after scheme flickered through his brilliant mind, desperately searching for something, anything that could bring Barst down. But to no avail. Nothing he could think of would be able to take the man out without another mass casualty of lives and time.

Except one.

"By the Riders, you better be watching this." Ajihad quietly muttered as he prepared to ride down to meet his foe and possibly his death. What else could he do? Every second delayed meant more men, Urgals, dwarves, and elves needlessly sacrificing their lives now that magic and time wasn't on their side.

Still in the middle of the street, General Barst let loose a bloodthirsty smile when he saw his simple, but effective, plan come to fruition. Though he could have easily charged through the ocean of bodies between him and his target, why do so when he could simply kill some and lure the dragon from his den?

Effortlessly hefting his weapon of choice over his shoulder, Barst watched as step by step, his prey approached his doom, the men parting like wheat before a scythe. The general chuckled when he saw the the one he knew as Jörmundur try to hold his commander back. It didn't work. With but a few terse words, Ajihad pushed aside his second in command to continue on before stopping several hundred feet from him, blade drawn.

The two circled each other.

"Lord Barst Berengarsson, long have I heard of your great achievements and extraordinary tactics. Won't you surrender now and spare the men under your command? Even with the Eldunari, there is a limit to how much punishment you can take, and you are but one while we are many. Eventually, your wards will fail and you will tire, it is inevitable."

A hushed silence swept the street as soldiers on both sides stilled, their ears straining as they waited for the general's response.

"You have courage Ajihad, leader of the Varden. I'll give you that." Seeing the look of pure resolution on Ajihad's face, General Barst couldn't help but reluctantly admire the other man's guts despite having shown him his ability to easily overpower many of Alagaesia's strongest inhabitants. However, his tone soon changed.

"However, you are an utter fool to face me alone if you think that. Without magic and wards, you and your precious abominations are worse than useless; so just how do you're going to fight me? Even this 'God of Slaughter' is nothing before me without his vile magic!" Barst sneered as he urged his horse forward, its ironclad hooves clattering against the stone pavement. Only to pause when a great shout arose from the Varden when a small group of elves rode out on pure white steeds, Queen Islanzadí in front.

"But he is not alone!"

Clad in her lustrous golden armor, her red cape billowing, and a stark white raven on her shoulder, the elf queen looked like a goddess of war and victory none dared to even have the least impure thoughts of, so stark the contrast between her splendid and radiant image amongst a city of smoke and corpses.

"Queen Islanzadí!"

"Queen Islanzadí!"

"Queen Islanzadí!"

Wild cheers arose from human, dwarf, and elf alike when they saw the legendary queen of the elves and her guard make their appearance, their swords and spears gleaming as the light reflected off of their mirror sheen.

Drawing up to her fellow commander, Islanzadí shot a murderous glare at the butcher of almost two hundred of her kind, intensely observing as two of her elf guard lowered their spears before driving their horses in a swift gallop, the muscles beneath their glossy hides flexing and relaxing as they raced across the short distance that separated them from the unmoving mountain of man and iron, a disdainful smirk on his brutish face.

"It's useless." Though the men and women around them loudly cheered, Ajihad and even Islanzadí knew such a charge was utterly meaningless as long as energy remained within the Eldunari.

The spears never touched the general. With a loud crack!, wood fragments flew and metal screeched as the hafts shattered an arm's length away from him, leaving them with little more than shards of wood in their grasps. Neither of them had much time to mourn the loss of their fabled weapons as with a single swing of his mace, Barst brained the elven horses just as easily he did to the Kull, their blood and brains painting their unblemished coats a hideous crimson.

Leaping off of their fallen steeds, the two elves twisted in the air before nimbly landing on their feet, leaf-shaped blades unsheathed. But just as they were about to dart back towards the general, an imposing voice from behind stopped them.

"Retreat!"

Despite being in the middle of a life or death situation, both of the elves, without a hint of hesitation, instantly reacted to Islanzadí's command as they smoothly came to a stop and bounded backward with a single, explosive step to once again stand by their queen's side, swords back in their sheaths. With that, the cheers of the Varden grew quiet, a solemn look on each of their faces when they realized that even with the queen of the elder race and her guard, nothing was certain.

Ignoring the tense silence as well as the growing clamor on the Empire's side, Islanzadí gravely glanced to the side. "Ajihad, I hope, for you and your kind's sake, you were not just riding out in a ridiculous attempt of valor. If even the elves who have fought by my side during the Fall of the Dragon Riders are no match against our foe, then you are even more so." Though her words were harsh, there was no bite behind them as a curious look entered her emerald orbs. "But I know you are not so foolish; you must have a plan. What is it?"

There was no reason to hide his plan, as simple and transparent it was, from his ally. But there wasn't much time; already Barst, who had gotten over his surprise at the sudden retreat of his opponents, was beginning to menacingly charge towards them, his tower shield to the side and that damned mace held high. There was only a few seconds before they collided.

Though his palms were sweaty with unease, Ajihad calmly uttered a single word. "Naruto."

But it was enough.

Islanzadí's eyes grew large before a rare smile graced her lips. "How cunning of you, Ajihad. If you were an elf, I would have made you one of my personal advisors. But for now," her smile faded away as the air about her seemed to cool several degrees, "stay back...all of you."

Ajihad didn't bother trying to stop Islanzadí; when the queen of the elves gave you an order in that kind of tone, you simply didn't argue. After all, only she had the strength and power to enact his plan, while still having a decent chance at living. The others would only slow her down. So when some of her elven guard looked as if they wanted to argue, Islanzadí shot them a frigid glare, her royal aura pressuring them into silence; she would be damned before letting another one of her elves die to that man.

And they would be wise not to break it.

Seeing how grim their queen became, the surrounding elves choked back their words and accepted her order, no matter how displeased they were. Retreating, they fanned out, killing any enemy soldier who resisted while making sure none would disturb Islanzadí.

They needn't bothered.

Other than a small pack of screaming halberd-wielding soldiers - who were quickly dispatched with extreme prejudice - nobody else dared to step up. It didn't matter if they be elf, human, dwarf, werecat, Urgal or belonged to the Varden or the Empire; all were enraptured by the fight between a mortal human general, slayer of two hundred elves, and the legendary elven queen of the past 500 years; a ring around the two combatants formed.

The air was soon filled with the thundering of hooves on bare stone as Queen Islanzadí grabbed a spear from one of her protectors before urging her white mare forward in a furious gallop while her opponent howled out his challenge, unafraid and unbroken. With a screech Blagden, the white raven, flew off Islanzadí's shoulder and alighted on a nearby roof.

Three hundred feet quickly diminished to two hundred feet.

Then one hundred.

At fifty feet, Islanzadí narrowed her eyes as she reached out with her mind, her formidable reserves seeking to crush either the general's mind or regrettably the Eldunari's. Although only an elf, and not a Rider at that, seizing control of one or two heart of hearts was not outside of her capabilities, especially for one of her age and power.

But as her delicate nose stung from the wretched stench of iron and rust and her mouth twisted in disgust upon almost tasting the metallic tang of her brethren's blood wafting from the bloody general on her tongue, the elf queen frowned when she felt absolutely nothing from her opponent.

"How could this be?" Though her messengers had already informed her of the general's mental absence, Islanzadí couldn't help but stare at Barst in concealed shock as one of the fundamental truths in Alagaesia was shattered before her eyes. "What spell or ward could so completely hide him from my senses? Could it be…?" Far more knowledgeable than most human spellcasters put together could ever hope to be, a terrifying thought stole its way through her mind.

However, any further thoughts were shelved away when Barst abruptly stood on his stirrups, his heavily armored form towering over her and his spiked mace raised high up in the air as muddy brown eyes glared down with utter contempt for the queen. There was little doubt what his intentions were.

He was going to bash out her brains just like all the others, elf queen or not.

"Impudent!" A cold light flared within the depths of Islanzadí's deep-set eyes as she levelled her borrowed weapon straight at the disguised Eldunari, its point a gleaming flicker in the smoke-ridden air.

Pride and arrogance as both a member and ruler of the elves has always been Islanzadí's Achilles' heel; it was what drove her daughter off for the better part of a century, and more recently, almost led to the destruction of the last and best hope against the Empire. And now, despite her icy exterior, Islanzadí's thinly suppressed rage finally ignited upon seeing the murderer of hundreds of elves complete disregard for her station as ruler of the elder race.

Sneering at the pathetically obvious attempt, Barst contemptuously shifted his shield to the front, its blackened steel surface forming an impenetrable barrier between the head of the lance and the precious cargo hidden beneath. "Fool, to lose control of your emotions after such a simple ruse, how low the elves have fallen. To think the fabled queen of elves was so gullible..." A bloodthirsty grin surfaced on his craggy face.

"...how disappointing!"

With the queen enraged, her guard was at a minimum. As the distance between the two quickly vanished, a pleasurable stirring thrummed through Barst's loins as he anticipated Islanzadí's haughty expression morphing into one of horror and regret right before he cracked her pretty head open and spilled her brains out for all the world to see.

"Die!"

Bursting out with a speed far greater than before, the general grinned when he saw her pupils constrict in shock as his deadly weapon unexpectedly blurred away from sight; the plates of his armor groaned in protest as they struggled to contain his bulging muscles. In the time it takes for a spark to fly off a piece of flint, the spiked head of the mace reappeared right above her head, one of its flanges barely an inch or two from sending the queen to her eternal sleep.

However, just when victory seemed to be within his grasp, a hint of clarity broke through Islanzadí's untimely wrath, her once cloudy eyes now clear. In the span of less than a millisecond, she realized how foolish she had been, to be provoked at such an inopportune moment, and knowing there was not much she could do to retaliate in that instant, she took a gamble. Either she would level the playing field, or be at a complete disadvantage against man and horse.

Loosening her grip on her mare, Islanzadí, in an amazing display of dexterity, rolled so far to the right she almost slipped off her steed, hanging on only by her strong legs and arm wrapped around its belly and neck. Hidden from Barst's view, she closed her eyes - a single thought in her mind - before thrusting her spear towards the gap between the hind legs of Barst's stallion.

"Forgive me..."

Stunned by the completely unexpected and unconventional maneuver, Barst missed his strike. Instead of landing on the head of his opponent, the giant mace head crashed down on the back of Islanzadí's mount, mere inches away from her leg.

CRACK!

A horrifying snap and crackle shattered the air as the spine and ribs of the queen's white mare fractured into a hundred pieces, its internal organs spilling out into the cobbled stone as its saddle and hide did nothing to stop the spiked head from smashing it in half. Knowing she would be next if she stayed, Islanzadí elegantly leapt off her fallen steed and rolled back onto her feet, sword drawn and ready for the next bout. A hushed moan of despair emerged from the Varden when they saw their mightiest fighter be thrown to the ground while roars of approval came from the Empire's side.

However, all went silent when a startled shout and metallic clang echoed through the crowd.

A satisfied smirk marked Islanzadí's lips when she heard her gamble come through. Though she had lost her mount, she made sure to leave a nasty surprise for the general.

Opposite of her, Barst slowly picked himself off the ground, a slight hitch in his stride, as if he had once injured his left knee or hip. But otherwise, he was completely unharmed with not even a single dent on his armor. However, several feet away, his charger mournfully neighed in pain, one of its hind legs twisted at an awkward angle and the remains of a spear embedded in the stone.

"It's as I thought then. Though Barst and his horse are immune to direct physical and magical attacks, it would seem such protection ends there."

Most wards only worked on either magical or external threats and were comparatively weaker towards physical internal ones, or rather, those caused by the user himself. The only way she knew around this weakness was the use of complicated spells that bolstered physique. However, such spells had a high chance of negatively impacting the more delicate operations of the body, such as blood flow and increased oxygen uptake needed to sustain higher level activity.

So when she saw Barst's mount galloping at a normal pace, rather than seeking to directly cripple Barst's mount, Islanzadí chose instead to simply tangle and trip it, letting momentum and gravity do the work. Ironically, her ploy only had a fifty percent chance of working, but when Barst's unusually powerful overhand strike unbalanced the horse, the poor beast's fate was all but sealed.

Staring at his fallen mount, Barst tightly clenched the straps of his shield with his left and the polished handle of his spiked mace with his right before turning his livid gaze towards the elf queen. Enraged and humiliated how easily he had been played with, he growled, "You'll pay for that!"

Snorting in disdain, Islanzadí didn't bother to exchange words and merely lifted her sword up with two hands into a high guard, its point a shining beacon in the midst of a battlefield of smoke and death.

There would be no more words. Only blood and death.

Apparently, Barst got the silent message as he lowered his center of gravity, shield in front. After having the tables turned on him so abruptly, his previous arrogant demeanor faded to one of cunning and wariness. No longer would he underestimate the elf in front of him simply because of what he carried.

Glancing to the side, a crafty glint entered his eyes. In a blur of speed, the general dropped his shield with a loud clatter before grabbing the neck of his downed steed and, with his left arm alone, heaved it towards Islanzadí.

Wary of her spell going awry, the elf queen did not try and stop the still-breathing animal, instead choosing to pivot to the right and allow the horse to fly by. Doing so left her vision obscured for but a second, but it was enough for Barst. Scooping up his shield from the ground, the general left cracked stones in his wake as he raced across the short distance between him and Islanzadí, shield held in front. Once he was but a few feet away, he lifted his mace and struck down at the queen, hoping to take advantage of the tiny gap in her defenses

It was not to be.

Despite the sound of clashing steel and a roaring dragon in the distance, Islanzadí's ears remained sharp and heard the general approaching as well as the air being buffeted by the mace. Taking a half-step back, she slashed down at the mace, avoiding its spiked head while batting the weapon aside, before stepping in and cutting towards the leather straps that held his shield to his arm in a single motion, careful to not touch the man himself and trigger the wards.

In an inhumane display of skill and control, Islanzadí's effort was rewarded with the harsh clank of a heavy piece of metal as Barst's hulking shield fell off his arm. However, other than an enraged gleam in his eye, the general showed no signs of anger other than to kick the now useless shield towards the queen.

The seemingly offhand action turned into a terrifying one considering Barst's unnatural strength. Once again shifting to the side, Islanzadí dodged past the whirling shield, but not before briefly tapping its side to redirect it towards one of the buildings. Had she not, the flying hunk of metal would have shorn through several ranks of soldiers behind her.

Gripping his mace with both hands, Barst roared as he unleashed a flurry of strikes, hoping to crush Islanzadí like he had done with the other elves before her. With his uncanny speed and strength combined with the lack of wards, none were able to last longer than a blow or two from his spiked mace. Even elves, for all their naturally enhanced strength and speed, were unable to withstand a single hit before crumpling to the ground like any man, dwarf, or Urgal.

But Islanzadí wasn't just any elf.

Not backing down another step, the queen of the elves met each strike with one of her own, her wrist a mere blur as she deftly parried away all of Barst's smashes and jabs with deceptive ease. She was poetry in motion as she danced around the heavily armored man. She was simply too fast, too skilled, for the general to catch, and her strength, even if slightly weaker, allowed her to deal with his blows with little difficulty.

Crack!

A small hole formed after she knocked one of the general's thrusts crashing into the cobblestone as she lashed out, and stabbed towards the small opening in his helmet. However, Barst relied on his wards and ignored the stab in favor of retaliating with a counterstroke of his own, recovering almost instantaneously from Islanzadí's parry. Forced to abandon her offense unless she wanted to be turned into a hamburger, Islanzadí swiftly withdrew, her sword a shining streak of steel as she intercepted the spiked head.

Above, a stark white raven circled the two, cawing and shrieking in the harsh manner of its kind.

Minutes passed as the two continued to trade blows up and down the street used the entire street as their arena, the fleshy walls of either side proving less of an obstacle than a pebble on the side of the road. Once or twice, soldiers of both Empire and Varden attempted to intervene, only to be cut or bludgeoned to death within a few seconds of joining. Even the elf bodyguards of Islanzadí no longer dared to draw near to the dueling duo after one of their own fell to a casual jab of his mace.

All they could do was join the rest of the soldiers and watch in helpless awe as their queen weaved in between his strikes and attacked when she could in order to shave away at the Eldunari's energy. All those within the vicinity, their allegiance irrelevant, simply stared - weapons forgotten by their side - unable to tear their eyes from the fight of the century.

Holes and cracked stone littered the two's surroundings , the consequence of Islanzadí constantly redirecting most the general's mace to the ground. Hacking down after deflecting yet another one of the man's ridiculously strong swings, she frowned when her sword once again stopped after colliding with his wards.

"This can not go on." Despite her cool demeanor, Islanzadí felt frustration mounting within her as she narrowly ducked yet another blow from Barst. She had already lost count of how many strikes she landed on the human general, each capable of bisecting men in full plate armor, only for her sword to be stopped by his unwavering wards. In fact, the only times he showed even a hint of concern was when she aimed towards the large bulge underneath his breastplate. Since then, the general grew far more wary towards any further attacks directed at the source of his power. It was because of this that other than a small limp which she wasn't even responsible for, Barst showed no sign of tiring, let alone injury. If anything, he was slowly growing stronger as he grew more used to pulling energy from the Eldunari.

Her on the other hand…

Clang!

Parrying away yet another swing, Islanzadí let out a muffled groan as her bones creaked in protest while perspiration trickled down her back. Though she hadn't taken a direct or even glancing hit, just the sheer force transmitted through her blade after blocking blow after blow was enough to steadily wear her down. This was not even taking into account that unlike Barst, she couldn't afford to make even the slightest mistake for her wards would not protect her. The concentration alone to insure this was as, if not more, exhausting than warding the spiked head of the mace that sought to bash her into oblivion.

Had it not been for her elves lending their energy, she doubted she could have lasted as long as she did. But, as the fight went on and she had to continually replenish her stamina, she could feel even that support begin to wane.

"In the end, not even ten of the most powerful of elves are able to rival a single mature Eldunari." The elf queen dejectedly mused, muscles trembling in protest of her actions. And though she hated to admit it, especially towards some human who wasn't even a Rider…

"Victory is impossible. As of now, it's only a matter of time before I make a mistake, or he realizes there is nothing I can do against him. Unless I use magic…"

Almost as soon the idea formed, it was instantly rejected as Islanzadí remembered the extreme risks of using the ancient language. Not only could she harm her allies or even herself, but she knew Galbatorix no doubt warded Barst against most conventional forms of arcane attacks, leaving only a few obscure backdoors to make sure the general firmly remained under his control. The only other option she had would be to order her elves to all swarm him until even the Eldunari cracked under pressure from warding off too many attacks.

However, the mere thought of sending so many of her race, a race that only conceived an average of one or two children every century, to die was so reprehensible to the extreme she would rather see herself explode from an awry spell before giving the order. Not to mention her pride would never allow her to trade so many elf lives for a single human's unless it was for someone like Galbatorix.

"So if I can't use magic or might of arms…" Dancing away from an sudden shoulder tackle, a single thought echoed in Islanzadí's mind as a small puff of white escaped her lips.

"Naruto, where in the Riders are you?"

Well away from the destructive pair, Ajihad watched the two hack at each other, their movements almost too fast to follow. No, hack was the wrong word, at least when it came to Islanzadí. To use such a banal term to describe the elf queen would be an insult. Her movements were glorious, her swordplay powerful yet lithe, footwork perfect despite the numerous small stones and holes now scattered about the street. On the other hand, Barst was the definition of crude; his swings were wide and unrefined, his large frame covered from head to toe in bulky metal. But nevertheless, he was deadly with his abnormal speed.

Had it not been for the Eldunari fueling his seemingly impenetrable wards, strength, speed, and stamina, he had no doubt the general would have long been slain by Islanzadí in the first exchange.

"But he does." Frowning, Ajihad nervously thumbed the pommel of his sword as he scanned the surrounding enemies before directing his full attention to the most important duel outside killing Galbatorix and Shruikan. He wouldn't put it past Barst or one of his subordinates to suddenly order a charge and take the Varden unawares. It's what he would do and strategically the best option - striking when the enemy least expects it. But considering the strongest allies of the Varden, the elves, not only didn't strictly obey him, but solely listened to their queen who was currently locked in combat...giving such an order was a pipe dream at best.

Instead, he turned to his right-hand man while gesturing towards a narrow street several feet away. "Jörmundur, take a contingent down that street and surround Barst and his men."

"Sir!" As always, Jörmundur immediately listened to Ajihad and ordered his squad towards the narrow street. But as he was about to disappear, he turned towards the man he respected the most.

"Ajihad, good luck." Saluting, he joined the rest of his men and soon faded from sight.

Staring at the space his loyal second-in-command once occupied, Ajihad murmured, "You too, old friend," before returning his gaze to General Barst and Islanzadí. Unlike most of the Varden, he knew Islanzadí couldn't defeat the general, at least not without a certain blond's help. Straining his eyes, he noticed Islanzadí's hands slightly tremble after blocking one of Barst's smashes. He knew the queen wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer.

Shivering, the leader of the Varden didn't notice as tiny tendrils of frost started to crawl up the back of his greaves, mistaking it as his nerves simply getting the best of him. Still, a nugget of suspicion lodged itself in the back of his mind; he wasn't one for losing his composure even in the direst of situations. However, that thought went out the window when he felt his heart almost leap out of his chest upon seeing the queen of the elves catch her ankle on a tiny crack in the street.

It was a small thing, barely an inch deep, but it was enough to cause the legendary queen to stumble back. For but a split second, a hole opened in her previously perfect form.

A split second too long.

Ajihad's dark eyes widened in horror as he watched Barst's orbs behind his helm light up in unrestrained glee. Reaching out, the general grabbed hold of Islanzadí's sword, unconcerned of its razor edge, and held it tight. In the beginning, Barst had attempted to catch the queen's blade and swiftly end the fight, only to quickly give up when the sword proved too elusive, too swift for even him. But now...

Tightly clenching the slender blade between his gauntleted fingers, Barst wrenched it aside, ignoring several arrows flying towards him before they erupted into sickly orange puffs of smoke, his wards rendering such desperate measures useless. Glancing at the elves, he grinned when he saw the despair in their eyes before turning his gaze back towards the downed queen.

"Now you die."

Lifting his mace high for the killing blow, he sneered in contempt at the defiant look in Islanzadí's emerald eyes, only to furrow his brows in confusion when he saw the corners of the queen's ruby lips quirk up into a complacent smirk. It was irritating. Why was she smiling? He was the one with the upper hand. Her was trapped, and her magic useless. She should be furious, cursing at him to go to whatever hell she and the rest of her infernal kind believed in.

So why?

"WHY?! WHY ARE YOU SMILING?!" Some baser instinct made Barst roar at the downed queen, his spit splattering all over the ground and her face. He had to know. This was supposed to be his crowning achievement, his mark on history. She should be begging him for mercy.

But Islanzadí didn't answer. Even as her nose twitched in disgust at the man's spittle on her royal body, even when she saw the bloodstained spikes of the mace begin to descend, she continued to smile, for she knew...

...this was her victory.

When he didn't hear an answer, Barst howled and smashed his mace towards Islanzadí's pretty head with his full strength. "It doesn't matter. Once you're dead, I'll parade your corpse throughout Urû'baen before letting your crow eat your own entrails. We'll see how you smile then!"

A dark shadow descended upon the elf queen. Off on his horse, as if in slow motion, Ajihad helplessly watched the spiked head smash down towards Islanzadí's head. Should such a blow land, only pulped flesh and shattered bone would be left of the queen's lovely visage. A pounding pulse in his ears deafened him to the groans of despair of his men and the wild cheers of the Empire at the coming end to the duel.

Yet he still held hope that the only one who could turn this around would show up, only for it to diminish the further the mace descended.

Six feet...five feet...four..."Come on, where are you?"...three...two..."Too late, it's too late."...one...

Closing his eyes, blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as Ajihad mentally screamed, "Damnit Naruto, where the fuck are you?!"

When a spike was but an inch away, as if answering his mental cries, a dark blur lined with silver and invisible to all in the street, darted out from a rooftop and interposed itself between Islanzadí and the deadly piece of steel.

Smack!

A hush fell over the crowd when they saw something stop the unstoppable mace. Squinting their eyes to see what could've possible stopped something even the elf queen couldn't, they gasped, eyes almost bulging out of their heads. It was unbelievable, impossible even. Some rubbed their eyes, others bit the tips of the tongues, only to see nothing changed, that what just happened in front of them...happened.

Then a came a cheer. Then another one...and another...until the air rumbled and the ground trembled under the weight of the Varden's excited roars of relief.

On the other hand, Barst, who had been expecting the satisfying crunch of metal on bone and the juicy splash of gore, silently stared in disbelief at what stopped him.

It was a man with a shaggy silver mane, pale skin, three red marks on his face. Foreign blue armor protected his shoulders, upper body, and groin. More strangely, odd black metal nubs stuck out all over his body. But they didn't matter. What mattered was the damn fact this stranger managed to stop his mace...

With his bare hands.

No, make that hand. Somehow, this man no, this thing, managed to stop his all-out strike with a single hand. And all without a single scratch or any visible difficulty.

"Impossible...Who, no what, are you? I order you to identify yourself!" A chill ran down the general's spine when the stranger lifted his head up, revealing a pair of dead ringed eyes staring straight at him. Suddenly, the sky and earth reversed as an immutable force pulled on his mace and smashed him into the crack-riddled ground. Before he could blink in surprise, a foot slammed into his neck and cracked the street underneath. Immediately, multicolored light flashed as the wards and spells fueled by the Eldunari fought against the pressure.

But when nothing happened, a taunting laugh erupted out of Barst's throat. "Hah, do you see that? I admit your strength is impressive, to be able to stop me, but even you are helpless before the might of the dragons! All you can do is wait for me to kill you! Hahahahaha!"

"...Is that so?"

Lifting his foot, the newcomer stomped down again and this time, began to squeeze. Once again, a kaleidoscope of colors flared to life as the earth groaned in protest. Still, nothing seemed to happen, and Barst again let out another hoarse laugh. "Fool, did you not hear what I said? It doesn't matter what...wait, what is that?

Crack!

What started out as a small crack began to spiderweb across the barrier of light until eventually it covered its entire surface. Suddenly, the once impenetrable shield looked fragile, as if it could shatter with but a gentle breeze.

"Stop! I order you to stop. STOP!" Eyeing the collapsing spells in horror, Barst howled in desperation before trying to free his mace, only to find it unyielding, as if it were a mountain he were trying to move and not an oversized piece of metal and wood. When he saw how useless it was to continue, he instead lashed out with his free hand, punching the leg that held him captive.

It was useless.

With a final squeeze, the magical shield shattered into a thousand pieces and a ghostly howl shrieked out as the Eldunari went into sudden hibernation, its energy stores finally depleted. Without the Eldunari feeding his body, the general groaned as he felt his strength leave him. No longer was he the invincible man who killed hundreds of elves. Now, he was just a man past his prime who couldn't even lift his own weapon as his arms flopped weakly to the ground.

With a trembling voice, he whispered, "What are you, monster?"

Leaning down, the Rinnegan coldly peered deep into Barst's eyes before its owner's pale lips cracked open.

"I am Naruto."

Notes:

Well, thank you for reading and hope this chapter is hopefully satisfying. Now, I want to again apologize for taking so long. I know some might not come back despite me finally updating, but I still want to thank them and everyone else for supporting me throughout this journey and I can only hope you guys continue to do so. So please, leave a review if you may and no flaming pls!