The battlefield's clamor, like a runaway behemoth, devoured everything. The clash of blades, the clang of metal, served as the cold accompaniment to the Grim Reaper's scythe. Exploding ninjutsu and earth-shattering roars were the final wails of unwilling spirits. Painful screams and desperate cries intertwined, composing a tragic song of blood and fire.
Itoshiki Furukawa's figure flickered erratically across the battlefield, each flash taking the lives of several Rain ninjas, their futures mercilessly extinguished. His fingers danced incessantly, the firelight in his mouth blazing, like an invitation card sent by the Grim Reaper.
"Fire Style: Fire Dragon Flame Bullet!" Itoshiki roared, chakra surging wildly.
A fire dragon erupted, flames churning around it, as if to devour everything. The air warped from the intense heat, tearing apart the Rain ninja's fragile defenses. Flesh and blood flew, a burnt stench permeated the air.
Yet, Itoshiki Furukawa felt an increasingly uneasy premonition in his heart for some reason. The battle's smoothness brought no joy, instead feeling like a muffled hammer blow to his heart, heavy and oppressive.
Something's not right... it's too easy!
The Rain ninja's resistance was too weak, the camp's defenses too fragile, which defied common sense. Rain Village was by no means so easily defeated, and Hanzō of the Salamander was not an incompetent fool who would surrender without a fight.
In the original plot, the 'Three Ninjas' of the Second Shinobi World War had also forged great reputations, but not so easily. Could this battle be the origin of the 'Three Ninjas' title? But the battlefield in the anime wasn't here. Was it his own butterfly effect?
At this thought, Itoshiki's heart suddenly constricted, as if gripped by an invisible hand. He abruptly looked up, gazing towards the center of the battlefield.
Tsunade, Orochimaru, and Jiraiya stood shoulder to shoulder, like three unsheathed blades, leading the Leaf ninja, deeply piercing into the Rain ninja camp's heartland. Wherever they passed, they were unstoppable, invincible. Victory seemed within reach.
But the unease in Itoshiki's heart spread wildly like rampant weeds.
He flashed, turning into a blur, rushing towards Tsunade. He had to tell Tsunade his guess, even if he was being paranoid, it was better than stepping into a trap unprepared.
On the battlefield, Tsunade swung her fists, each strike containing terrifying power capable of shattering mountains and splitting rocks. Chakra condensed, the wind from her fists howled.
The Rain ninjas were like fragile dolls before her, easily sent flying, bones shattered, internal organs ruptured, blood spurting out. Her battle robes were stained red with blood, like blooming mandala flowers, alluring yet deadly.
But the determination in Tsunade's eyes was as unshakeable as a boulder. Victory was at hand! As long as they took this camp, the Rain ninja's line of defense would completely collapse. The scales of war would completely tip towards the Leaf!
A figure rushed to her side like a gust of wind.
"Tsunade-sama, something's not right!" Itoshiki's voice was urgent and grave.
Tsunade frowned, stopping her movements, her gaze sharp. "Speak slowly, what is it?"
Her voice was calm and firm, gradually calming Itoshiki's originally agitated heart.
"The Rain ninja's resistance is too weak..."
Itoshiki tried to calm his breathing, organizing his thoughts. "Their forces are far from what the intelligence described, and the camp's defenses aren't as strong as we thought. I suspect this is a trap, a huge trap!"
"A trap?" Tsunade's heart jolted. She had also felt that things were going too smoothly, but the rewards of victory had made her ignore everything.
She looked around. On the battlefield, the Leaf ninja's morale was high, like a rushing torrent, pouring into the Rain ninja camp. The light of victory seemed within reach.
But Itoshiki's words were like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing the flames in her heart. Hanzō of the Salamander, that cunning and unfathomable man, could not be so easily defeated. If this was really a trap, then what was the Rain ninja's true purpose? Was it to lure them in deep? Or to brew an even more terrible conspiracy?
Tsunade's eyes were deep. She understood Hanzō of the Salamander, the man known as 'Demigod', possessed powerful strength enough to turn the tide of battle. If he had really carefully planned a trap, then the Leaf ninja army would probably face an unprecedented crisis.
Continuing the attack might allow them to press their advantage, but once they fell into the trap, the losses would be incalculable, possibly even a total annihilation.
After weighing the pros and cons for a moment, Tsunade made a decision.
"Send the order, cease the attack!" Tsunade's voice suddenly rose, like a thunderclap exploding on the battlefield, shaking people's hearts.
"All Leaf ninja, immediately cease the attack, stand by, do not act without authorization!"
The order swept across the battlefield like a gale. The Leaf ninja, who were fighting bravely, were stunned, their expressions changing from astonishment to bewilderment, then to confusion.
"Tsunade, what's happening?" Orochimaru's figure appeared beside Tsunade at the first moment, his snake eyes flashing with doubt, his voice hoarse.
"Tsunade, what's wrong?" Jiraiya flashed and joined the two, the three instantly uniting.
"The situation has changed, I'm afraid there's a trick," Tsunade said solemnly, telling Orochimaru and Jiraiya her thoughts.
Hearing this, both Orochimaru and Jiraiya's expressions grew grim.
"What trick is that old fox Hanzō trying to play this time?" Jiraiya muttered, scratching his head, a note of concern in his voice.
"Could we be overthinking it? The Rain Ninjas' strength is inherently inferior to ours…" he mused, though doubt lingered in his tone.
"No, it's definitely not that simple," Orochimaru interjected sharply, shaking his head. His snake-like eyes gleamed with cold precision, his voice low and foreboding.
"Hanzō of the Salamander is not the type of man to admit defeat easily, nor is he a fool who would simply sit and wait for death." His gaze turned dark, filled with calculation. "If this is truly a trap, he's preparing something far more lethal—something capable of annihilating us all."
Tsunade's gaze hardened, her resolve unwavering as she took in the situation. "We can't afford to take any risks. We must proceed with caution."
She scanned the battlefield, assessing the terrain, the shifting movements of their forces. "Pass down my orders. All ninjas below Jonin level are to retreat immediately, fall back to the outer perimeter of the camp, and establish a defensive line. Jonin will remain behind, ready for any emergencies. We must not let Hanzō's plot succeed."
"Understood!" Itoshiki and the Jonin responded in unison, swiftly moving to direct the Konoha ninjas in their retreat.
Just as the Leaf ninjas began to pull back in an organized fashion, a sinister, low chuckle echoed from the depths of the Rain Ninja camp.
"Heh heh heh... As expected of the Leaf ninja commander, your vigilance is impressive. You noticed something was wrong so quickly," the voice taunted, dripping with mockery, triumph, and a chilling coldness that seemed to crawl up one's spine like the whispers from hell itself.
The laughter was followed by an overwhelming stench—sharp, rancid, and suffocating, like the decaying remains of a long-dead corpse.
From the depths of the Rain Ninja camp, a thick, purple mist began to seep out, spreading quickly across the battlefield, twisting through the air like a ghostly serpent.
"Poison mist!" Tsunade's eyes widened in horror. Her heart dropped as the realization hit.
"It's Hanzō of the Salamander's poison mist!" Her voice cracked with urgency. "Retreat! Retreat immediately! This mist is highly toxic! Inhaling it will paralyze your nervous system, rendering you immobile—at worst, it's fatal!"
But the poison mist spread faster than anyone could have anticipated. It surged across the battlefield like a ravenous beast, its insidious tendrils clawing at the air, devouring everything in its path.
The ground hissed as the mist touched it, plants withering to nothing, and the very air seemed to choke on the corrosive vapors.
Tsunade's face turned ashen. The retreat was already under way, but the mist was relentless—too fast, too deadly.
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