The sea roared beneath the weight of the advancing fleet.
Dozens of massive ships—over thirty in all—cut across the dark waters in a single formation, their sails taut with wind. The vessels were carved from heavy wood, reinforced in places with dark iron plating that caught glimmers of sunlight through the clouds.
At the head of the formation loomed an even larger warship, dwarfing the others like a flagship of conquest.
Inside its captain's quarters, three men sat around a low table.
One of them—a broad, muscular figure with dark skin—spoke first, his voice a deep rumble. Seated beside him were two pale-skinned, lean men, their robes bearing the colors of their respective lands.
"So… no movement from Konoha?" the Third Raikage asked, his expression tightened in irritation.
The Second Kazekage shook his head. "No. And even if there is, it's too small for our spies to notice. Most likely, they will not aid the Uzumaki village."
That coward.
"Tch." A low curse escaped the Raikage's lips. "It doesn't matter. Even if Konoha came, we could cripple them. Now… we can simply destroy the Uzumaki and achieve our goal with ease."
Their conversation was cut short by the sudden slide of the door. A shinobi stepped inside and dropped to one knee.
"Lord Raikage. We are already in sight of the target."
"Oh?" The Raikage rose, his towering frame casting a shadow across the room. "That was quick."
The three leaders stepped out onto the deck. The air was thick with salt, each breath tasting of the restless ocean.
For the Third Raikage, whose mastery of Lightning Release had pushed his body to extremes, the dampness of the sea always carried a faint discomfort. Even so, his eyes were sharp as they fixed on the horizon.
Ahead, an island emerged from the mist, growing clearer with every moment.
"It seems we have arrived," he said, his voice low but certain.
"Prepare for disembarkation. There may be a hard battle ahead."
A voice spoke up among the aides. "Lord Raikage, there might be traps near the shore. Should we stop the ships here?"
"I think so," the Raikage replied, his tone deep and steady.
In one fluid motion, he leapt to the highest point of the ship. All eyes turned to him.
He cleared his throat and let his voice boom over the roar of the waves.
"Listen well, all of you!"
The wind carried his words across every deck of the fleet.
"We have forged an alliance between four great ninja villages—an alliance unprecedented in the history of the shinobi world! Before us stands a force of ten thousand ninja. But do not think the battle ahead will be easy!"
His gaze swept over the soldiers—shinobi of all lands, united only by a temporary pact.
"The Uzumaki clan is unmatched in chakra. Their sealing techniques are feared even by the most powerful among us. Even though they are but a single clan, they must not be taken lightly. Many of you may lose your lives today."
The silence that followed was heavy with tension.
"But remember—once we succeed, we will claim what they have guarded for generations! Fight with all your might!"
"YAAAAAAH!" The roar of the assembled shinobi shook the sea.
"From here," he commanded, "we leave our ships. Move through the water carefully—avoid all of their traps!"
The Raikage was the first to leap down toward the waves, the other Kage following close behind.
Among the three, the Third Raikage was the strongest, and so he naturally acted as commander. But his was a nominal leadership—most shinobi would still follow the direct orders of their own Kage.
Following his lead, the army abandoned the ships, feet skimming over the water's surface as they raced toward the island.
For shinobi, the distance was nothing. In mere moments, the vanguard reached the shore.
Then—suddenly—the entire army halted.
Confusion rippled through the ranks. Some ninja strained their eyes to see what lay ahead.
And then they saw it.
At the very edge of the island's coast sat… a child.
No—he wasn't just sitting. He was lounging. One hand propped against his cheek, his body relaxed, as if he were bored out of his mind.
From this distance, his expression was faint, but somehow… they could feel it. That look of utter disinterest.
It was the kind of gaze one might give an anthill, watching the tiny creatures scurry about to pass the time.
And in that moment, ten thousand shinobi felt the faint, inexplicable weight of being… the ants.