At the border between Yamato and Musashi Provinces.
Butsuma Senju led a scouting party consisting of Gokuma Senju and four other chunin-level shinobi, moving in a specific direction. Many similar teams were scattered throughout the area.
The terrain here was complex. Towering forests dominated the landscape, making it difficult to see far ahead. Hidden beneath the canopy were treacherous marshes and salt lakes, many of them connected underground, slowing the search considerably.
Butsuma had been searching this area for a full day and night without detecting any large chakra signatures. Were it not for the Sage Clan's well-known reputation and their assurances that the Eight-Tails had indeed been active here, he would have lost patience long ago.
This operation had cost Butsuma considerable resources to organize. To keep it secret, only their traditional Uzumaki allies had been informed; other Senju allies were kept in the dark. If the mission failed, the burden of responsibility would fall squarely on his shoulders.
"Continue the search. Send two more squads southeast. Do not overlook a single salt lake. Make sure water-style specialists confirm each lake has been thoroughly checked!"
"Yes, Clan Head. Scout Teams Three, Four, Five… acknowledged."
Orders rippled outward via the communication network.
Butsuma's own squad deployed various search techniques—summoning ninja hounds, using specialized devices to detect large chakra sources. The most unusual member was a bald-headed shinobi monk carrying a large basket on his back, walking between Butsuma and Gokuma's squads as though they were subtly guarding him.
"Clan Head Butsuma, there is no need to be anxious," the monk, Master Fayen, said calmly. "I can sense we are drawing closer to the Eight-Tails' chakra."
Butsuma paused for a moment before replying, "Master Fayen, I'm not worried about finding the Eight-Tails. With the Amber Purifying Pot, locating it is only a matter of time."
"Then what troubles you?"
"I have an uneasy feeling… This place is too close to the Valley of Clouds and Lightning."
Butsuma didn't need to finish. Fayen already understood his concern.
The strongest clan in the shinobi world: the Uchiha.
Although the Senju had mobilized most of their combat strength for this mission, this area was dangerously close to the Uchiha heartland. A battle with the Eight-Tails would inevitably draw attention—it could not be hidden.
And if, at that point, Butsuma's prepared trump cards failed… the consequences would be dire.
For there was a persistent rumor: that the Uchiha's Sharingan could control tailed beasts.
Fayen understood the weight of Butsuma's unease. "Rest assured, Clan Head. The Amber Purifying Pot our Sage Clan created with such effort will absolutely contain the Eight-Tails."
"Let us hope so."
The conversation ended there. Gokuma had remained silent throughout. He wore improved armor provided by Satsuki, which not only offered superior defense but greatly enhanced the wearer's chakra efficiency. This allowed their squad to maintain higher-than-normal chakra reserves even after extended searching and pursuit.
Similar armor had been issued to several elite jonin and the clan head, but their supply was limited. The suits had been acquired from that enigmatic, masked warrior of the Ōtsutsuki, and even so, Gokuma was astonished at their production capacity. In this era, productivity was tightly linked to population, and when he had personally visited that obscure little town, it had clearly lacked the manpower to produce such high-quality equipment in such numbers.
This defiance of common sense had gnawed at Gokuma's mind for some time. He had tried probing for answers in conversation, but the other party's taciturn nature yielded nothing.
Suddenly, Master Fayen, who bore the Amber Purifying Pot on his back, froze. His gaze sharpened, and he raised a hand to point northeast. "Clan Head Butsuma, the Eight-Tails' chakra has appeared in that direction—less than eight kilometers away."
"Good." Butsuma's spirit surged at the news. The critical moment had come.
"Gokuma," he barked, "send the signal immediately, then notify the forward ninja units behind us. Have them form concentric defensive rings around our current position, spaced every ten kilometers—three layers in total. The outermost layer will be led by chunin and genin squad leaders, tasked with early warning and repelling outsiders. The second layer will be composed of clan chunin, to intercept and eliminate enemy mid-tier forces. The innermost layer will be made up of jonin, ready to plug gaps in the other defenses and, if necessary, carry out decapitation strikes."
"Understood, Clan Head." Gokuma relayed the orders without delay. Behind them, thousands of Senju genin and hundreds of chunin and jonin dispersed according to the prearranged plan.
Within the dense forest, Senju shinobi fanned out following covert signals and communications. Hashirama Senju and Tobirama Senju, both of chunin-level strength, were assigned to the second ring. Their younger brothers, Itama Senju and Kawarama Senju, being only genin-level, were placed in the outermost layer.
This tactical arrangement was a stark reminder of the Warring States era's truth: the lives of the weak and the strong were not of equal value. Cruel as it was, such measures were necessary for survival.
"Tobirama, you've always been the sharper one. Do you think Father's plan will work?" Hashirama asked casually, squatting atop a tree branch and glancing toward his hidden brother.
"Big Brother, we're on a mission. Could you take it seriously?" Tobirama's tone dripped with exasperation.
A visible purple gloom, complete with dark lines, seemed to settle over Hashirama. He slumped instantly into exaggerated melancholy. "So, in my little brother's heart… I'm just a frivolous big brother?"
"Ugh, and I can't stand this habit of yours—getting all mopey at the drop of a hat," Tobirama grumbled, a tic mark pulsing on his forehead.
At that moment, a powerful tremor shook the ground from the center of their encirclement. A deafening roar of a colossal beast rolled in from the distance.
Hashirama snapped from gloom to razor-edged focus. Tobirama's eyes narrowed, a thin thread of unease winding through his heart.
They quickly scaled a massive tree for a better vantage point, watching the source of the disturbance.
From the direction of the tremors rose a vast, thick plume of smoke—the aftermath of a devastating explosion. The ground for hundreds of meters around had been blasted into a massive semicircular crater. All plant and animal life, even stone and soil, had been erased from existence by that terrible strike.
"This scale of chakra…"
Sensing the residual energy of the destruction, Tobirama's face paled. "Is this the tailed beast Father spoke of? What kind of monster is this?"
Hashirama's sensory skills were weaker than Tobirama's, but even he could feel the crushing pressure and murderous intent bleeding into the air from dozens of kilometers away.
As the smoke cleared, their eyes widened in shock. There, looming in the distance, was a monstrous creature of unimaginable size.
Its eight massive tails writhed like octopus tentacles, while its front half bore the form of a two-armed beast with a bull's head.
"This… this is the Eight-Tails?"
For the first time, the fearless Hashirama felt his legs weaken. This was a natural disaster given form.
Worse still, the Eight-Tails opened its massive maw, revealing a pale purple sphere condensing within.
The second Tailed Beast Bomb was about to be unleashed.