The Sharingan distorted perception, while Sage Mode flooded the body with natural energy. Kimimaro, wielding both simultaneously, acted with blinding speed—no one had time to react.
"Shikotsumyaku... I remember now. You're from the Kaguya clan," Fudoto muttered, blood dribbling from his lips.
"The last of the Kaguya... you were under Orochimaru, weren't you? My intel wasn't wrong—I just hadn't focused on the underground movements lately. Kimimaro... I can only say your rise has been terrifyingly fast. There's no way someone like you would stay a pawn under Orochimaru forever. Honestly, even he might not rival you anymore."
Kimimaro's tone was even. "And you? Is your name really Fudoto? Judging by your age and chakra, you must have ties to the Twelve Guardian Ninja."
Fudoto smirked. "My old name was Kazuma. You may have heard it before."
Kimimaro's eyes narrowed. "So you survived after all."
"How could I die with my ambition still unfulfilled?"
"You're wrong. If I want you dead now, you will die."
Kazuma—formerly Fudoto—slumped to the ground in resignation. "Yes... my life is in your hands."
Kimimaro turned to Fūka. "Now, will you follow me without hesitation?"
Fūka nodded eagerly. "Of course! You're incredible... Even if I can't match Karin, just being at your side is enough."
Kimimaro then addressed the other two, Fudō and Fuen. "What about you two? Are you willing to follow me? What I offer is far beyond anything Kazuma could promise. He's still a puppet of the Daimyō. But me... I'll create something new. My own force. No allegiances. No subjugation."
Fudō and Fuen exchanged glances, silent communication passing between them.
Finally, Fuen spoke. "We're willing. But—are you really going to kill Kazuma?"
Kimimaro's voice didn't waver. "Do you care about him?"
"Not deeply," she admitted. "But we've fought beside him for years... and he knows a forbidden Earth Release technique we still want to learn."
Kimimaro turned to Kazuma. "Then it's your choice. Live or die?"
In truth, Kimimaro didn't care either way. If Kazuma died, nothing would be lost. If he lived and accepted Kimimaro's ideals, he could become a valuable asset—not because of power, but because of influence and unwavering execution. However, if Kazuma insisted on clinging to his loyalty to the Daimyō, Kimimaro wouldn't hesitate to erase him.
Kazuma remained thoughtful. "Do you really believe you can stand against an entire shinobi village alone? Can any individual rival the power of a Tailed Beast?"
Kimimaro scoffed. "How long has it been since Hashirama Senju died? And already the world forgets what true strength looks like. Tailed Beasts? Hashirama could subdue the Nine-Tails like a child scolding a misbehaving pet. This generation hasn't seen what a real powerhouse is."
Kazuma stared at him. "...Then I'll believe you, for now. I choose to live. I want to witness the changes you bring to this world. You speak of unification—I want to see whether you truly have the strength to reshape everything."
Kimimaro's expression darkened. "That's not enough. You want to observe me? That alone isn't worth sparing your life. What do you offer?"
Kazuma's eyes flashed. "I'm loyal to an ideal. Yours overlaps with mine—though not perfectly. If I see that you truly have the power to realign the world, I will bring you support. Don't be misled by my own strength. Behind me are dozens—hundreds—of shinobi, all of them disillusioned with the current order. They seek a unifying force."
He continued, "They're not just from the Land of Fire. Many are from the other Great Nations. I can definitely deliver a contingent from this land, and if your strength proves overwhelming, even our enemies will follow you. What you said is true—absolute strength can supersede even bloodlines and political legacy. Until now, we've only backed the Daimyō because no one else has shown the strength to rival him."
Kazuma locked eyes with Kimimaro. "So I ask again—do you have that strength?"
Kimimaro's eyes lit up with rare interest. "You finally possess a trait that draws my attention. How many ninjas like that are there?"
The informant replied, "Let's not talk about Chūnin or Genin. Just among the Jōnin, if you combine the Five Great Nations, forming a squad of a hundred with that mindset wouldn't be difficult."
Over a hundred?
Kimimaro was mildly surprised. During the Fourth Great Ninja War, the Allied Shinobi Forces numbered around eighty thousand, drawn mostly from the Five Great Nations and the samurai of the Land of Iron.
Even if Jōnin were a minority, they would still constitute at least one percent—around eight hundred elite ninja.
If even a tenth of those held disillusionment toward the current Five Kage system, that would be over a hundred Jōnin—enough to form a formidable force.
If Kimimaro could command such strength, his power would be sufficient to challenge the existing balance upheld by the Five Great Ninja Villages.
Kimimaro's vision had always been clear: unify the fragmented shinobi world under a singular will, and dismantle the rigid caste divisions that separated nobles, commoners, and ninja.
If there truly existed a faction of Jōnin already aligned with his ideology—even partially—then shaping the future would be far more feasible than anticipated.
Still, he knew idealism alone wouldn't change the world. Ideological alignment was never guaranteed, especially among those with strength and pride.
Regardless, this was enough for now.
Kimimaro slowly lifted his foot off Kazuma's chest. "You're coming with me. Stay hidden and don't draw attention. Once I finish my business, you'll return with me."
These four still possessed value—unlike the discarded Taketori and wandering rogues before. Kimimaro didn't trust them to roam freely; Kazuma especially was unstable. If he went berserk or tried to defect midway, it would be troublesome.
Kimimaro and Karin remained visible, while Fūka and the other three shadowed them from afar. They began traveling westward, moving toward the Land of Earth.
This time, Kimimaro planned to contact Kurotsuchi through Iwagakure's ANBU. He was surprised when the reply came swiftly: Kurotsuchi was currently immersed in training inside the village, and had extended a personal invitation to visit.
"…Why does this feel like I'm meeting her parents?" Kimimaro muttered dryly.
"At least she has parents," Karin replied, her tone tinged with a mix of sarcasm and quiet sadness.
Kimimaro blinked. "...That came out wrong. I meant—we're both kind of drifting, you and I."
Karin smiled faintly. "It's okay. I have you now. Since Kurotsuchi invited us, let's go."
"Mm. I believe she wouldn't set us up."
Two days later, led by Iwagakure's ANBU, they approached the village's outer perimeter. Despite its strict security, the guards had clearly received instructions and let them through without issue.
"Where's Kurotsuchi?" Kimimaro asked as they neared a wide training area.
"Lady Kurotsuchi is at the training ground ahead," an ANBU agent answered respectfully.
Kimimaro stepped forward. As they entered the dusty open space, he spotted Kurotsuchi mid-spar with a large, imposing man—her father, Kitsuchi. The ground trembled with each of their earth-style clashes.
Sensing an intruder, both stopped and turned.
Kurotsuchi beamed and waved. "Kimimaro! You're finally here. Karin, too?"
Before Kimimaro could answer, Kitsuchi abruptly surged forward, his massive fist encased in chakra glowing with an earthy golden hue. Without hesitation, he hurled a punch directly at Kimimaro's face.
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