Amegakure – Inside Hanzō's Residence
BOOM!
A loud crash echoed through the hall as Hanzo slammed his fist into the tea table before him, shattering it into splinters. His chest heaved with rage, as though he might tear apart everything in his sight the very next second.
With each breath he exhaled, a faint mist of pale violet poison leaked from his mouth, sending a chill through the assembled shinobi. Their faces turned pale with fear.
"Unforgivable. Truly unforgivable!
Do those little brats think they can trample over me just because they pushed me back twice?!
If I don't break their will and force them to kneel, where will that leave the dignity of Hanzo the Salamander—the Demi-God of the Shinobi World?!"
A trusted subordinate, donning a custom-made gas mask, cautiously stepped forward to clean up the debris. Voice trembling, he asked tentatively:
"Lord Hanzō, what has angered you so?"
It took a long while before Hanzō calmed his breathing and shoved a letter to the floor, suppressing his rage.
With his immense strength, the letter didn't just land—it was driven halfway into the wooden floor.
"Those Konoha brats are growing too bold. I spared them before because I didn't want more of our people dying needlessly—and now they think we're powerless against them.
They've even sent me a formal challenge, declaring they'll face Amegakure in a final battle three days from now."
"All my life, I've been the one issuing challenges. Who dares deliver one to me?"
The subordinate struggled for a few seconds to pull the letter out of the floor. After scanning its contents, his expression shifted to shock.
"Lord Hanzō… what do you intend to do?"
Hanzō glanced at him sharply, and the man instantly felt as if he'd been dropped into a pit of ice.
"Are you suggesting I can't handle a bunch of Konoha brats?"
The subordinate trembled so hard he could barely speak, his voice cracking like dry twigs.
"N-No, Lord Hanzō, of course not! As the esteemed Demi-God of the Shinobi World, you would never be suppressed by mere juniors! If you fought at full strength, be it the Konoha's Silver Moon or that Cold Sage and Mad Demon, you'd annihilate them without leaving even ashes behind!"
Flattered by the groveling, Hanzo snorted and finally withdrew his killing intent.
"Hmph. I've made up my mind. Since they're so eager to die, I'll oblige them."
"Three days from now, leave a portion of our forces to hold Amegakure. Everyone else will march with me to the battlefield. I'll take the heads of all four of them and use their corpses to remind the world—I am far from finished. I am not someone the next generation can challenge and live."
...
Two Days Later – Konoha Frontline Camp
As evening fell, the Konoha encampment lit up with a celebratory feast—chickens slaughtered, rations shared, and spirits lifted.
By tomorrow morning, the majority of Konoha's frontline forces would take the offensive—marching out for a decisive battle with Hanzō. The plan: to shatter the current balance of the war.
Though time was tight, Tsunade had successfully synthesized a large batch of antidote, enough to arm every jōnin-ranked shinobi with a dose.
Testing had shown that while the antidote couldn't grant full immunity to Hanzō's poison, it did allow ninja to operate safely in low-to-mid concentrations of gas for up to two hours—a critical tactical edge.
This offensive force would consist of roughly 500 shinobi, including over 50 jōnin and elite jōnin. The goal was clear: defeat Hanzō with overwhelming force.
...
The Next Day – 9:00 AM
Though it was morning, the sky was as dark as twilight.
Storm clouds, thick and ink-black, churned above like a sea of shadows. Lightning occasionally flickered between the clouds, illuminating the oppressive atmosphere.
Thunder boomed overhead, rhythmic and relentless—like war drums announcing the carnage to come.
On a muddy plain within the Land of Rain, a massive Konoha unit was marching swiftly toward the hills.
At the front of the formation were Hoshiyomi, Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru—leading the spearhead toward the battlefield Hanzō had agreed upon.
Among the crowd, Hoshiyomi was easily the fastest. Even without using shunpo, his pace outstripped everyone else.
Behind him were Jiraiya and Tsunade. Thanks to training under Fukasaku and Shima of Mount Myōboku, Jiraiya—though not yet capable of Sage Mode—had gained several movement techniques, sharpening his speed.
Orochimaru trailed slightly behind, though not due to lack of strength. On the contrary, in terms of pure power, he was arguably the strongest.
Having already developed the prototype of his Soft Physique Modification, Orochimaru's raw power easily matched jōnin-level combatants and may have already crossed into quasi-Kage territory. His lagging pace was simply because taijutsu was never his specialty.
As they reached the increasingly steep terrain, looking at the forest before them, Hoshiyomi slowed his pace and raised his right hand simultaneously, signaling for everyone to stop.
"Everyone rest for five minutes. Orochimaru, scout the terrain."
No one protested. Even the usually irreverent Jiraiya didn't treat the order as excessive. In a battle of this scale, caution was vital.
Orochimaru nodded and formed hand seals:
"Ninja Art: Snake Net Gathering Technique!"
He pressed both hands to the ground, and dozens of small snakes slithered forth from a puff of smoke, tongues flicking as they disappeared into the underbrush.
Five minutes later, numerous small snakes emerged from the woods, coiling around Orochimaru's wrist and hissing. After listening to the snakes' report, Orochimaru turned back and said,
"You were right again. Hanzō didn't lay any large-scale traps, but he set up plenty of small signaling mechanisms to detect movement."
"Luckily, my snakes dealt with them all. We're in the clear to advance."
Hoshiyomi nodded.
"Alright. Everyone move out. Sensory team, stay sharp. Hyūga Seisō, Uzumaki Kōrin, keep your Byakugan and Kagura's Mind Eye fully active. Report anything immediately."
"Understood!"
Both nodded. One opened his Byakugan. The other closed her eyes, channeling her chakra to the limit.
With such a sensory duo, even a fly wouldn't escape unnoticed.
Though Orochimaru's snakes had already scouted the area, the unit moved with disciplined caution.
Hanzō might normally fight with honor, but he was also a man renowned for his paranoia and caution. No one in their right mind would take a straightforward final battle with him at face value.
Only a fool would assume he'd play fair now.
Quietly, the group moved through the dense forest toward the agreed-upon hills.
Just after exiting the treeline—
"Enemy sighted, Lord Hoshiyomi!"
Both Hyūga Seisō and Uzumaki Kōrin spoke simultaneously.
Hearing this, everyone, who had been somewhat tired from the long march, immediately perked up. Hoshiyomi and the others, with serious expressions, inquired, "How many?"
The two looked at each other and responded:
"Roughly the same as us—four to five hundred. But their chakra signatures are much weaker on average. From what we can sense, they have fewer than thirty jōnin-level combatants. In terms of raw individual power, we hold the advantage."
Hoshiyomi and the others exchanged a glance, then nodded in unison.
"Everyone, focus on concealing your presence. Close the distance as much as possible, then charge directly. We'll catch them off guard."