Boom!
The roar of torn space still buzzed in his skull. The knife-cold wind and thick stench of blood were instantly replaced by the heat and urgency of the Konoha camp, and the sting of disinfectant.
Ryo was drenched in blood. The mud beneath his feet swirled dark red. Drowned by pain and venom alike, his consciousness finally went dark. The image of collapsing earth walls and the terror of Iwa shinobi flashed once before his body went limp, pitching forward.
"Ryo!!"
Tsunade's scream cracked out on pure instinct. She threw her arms wide and, a split second before he hit the mud, caught him hard against her chest. The young body in her arms was ice-cold, his breath so faint it made her heart seize.
To hell with composure. The bloodied, mud-smeared face of Ryo sank deep into Tsunade's generous chest, the only warmth in a frozen world of death.
Tsunade put her entire strength into holding the man in her arms, clutching him like a treasure about to shatter. His frozen brow pressed into the hollow of her neck. She couldn't tell if what soaked her skin was rain, blood, or her own tears.
At the same time, her other hand shot out, hooking with surgical precision into the collar of the man collapsed beside them, Jiraiya. His chest was crushed in, his face pale, already unconscious. Her knuckles turned white.
"Orochimaru!!" Tsunade's roar came out raw, her voice twisted by terror and strain. Her golden eyes burned with reckless determination. "Help me, now!"
From the shadows, Orochimaru glided forward without a sound, like a stream of quicksilver. His serpentine gaze flicked toward the ancient sword at Ryo's waist, soaked in blood yet still radiating ferocity. His eyes narrowed before returning to their usual icy calm.
When he saw Tsunade clutch Ryo to her chest as if she wanted to merge him into her bones, the corner of his pale mouth twitched upward, a faint, almost mocking curve. Something flickered in his golden pupils. Something about this master-disciple dynamic seemed a little unusual.
That idiot Jiraiya probably thought the same. The thought passed through his mind, unspoken. Orochimaru wasted no words. His pale hand moved with precision, pressing down on Jiraiya's shoulder. His movements were calm, efficient, and deliberate.
"Ha!"
Two figures burst into motion at once.
Tsunade held the unconscious Ryo. Orochimaru dragged the dying Jiraiya. They became streaks of crimson, tore through the heavy tent flaps, and, wreathed in the breath of death, charged into the chaos of the main medical camp.
"Out of the way! Highest priority!"
Tsunade's thunderous shout swept through the tent like a physical wave, crushing every sound beneath it. Even the air felt as if it had frozen.
"Clear space! Disinfect! Cardiac stimulants! Chakra restoratives! Move!"
She didn't need to explain the steps. The moment her sharp eyes, eyes that saw through life and death, landed on Jiraiya's wounds, the battlefield turned into an operating room.
She set Ryo down roughly on the stretcher next to her and immediately turned to Jiraiya.
Rip!
Her blood-splattered hands became weapons against death itself. Ten times stronger than before, emerald medical chakra burst from her palms. With unrestrained fury, she pressed it to the fatal wound in Jiraiya's chest. Flesh sizzled. The power of life flared to life.
Her sharp eyes flicked toward Ryo. She barked at a trembling genin, "Check his vitals! Antitoxin, now! Keep him stable! Any change, report immediately!" The ferocity in her tone barely concealed the fear beneath it.
The tent became a battlefield in an instant. Under Tsunade's absolute command, every medic worked with desperate precision.
Outside, in the muddy clearing, the last tremor of warped space had not yet faded.
Danzō stood unmoving in the rain, a stone pillar wrapped in a dark cloak. His hawk-like eyes fixed on the emerald glow spilling from the tent, the light of Tsunade's full power.
Moments later, he moved.
One step forward, and the mud sank beneath his weight. He pushed through the flaps, a shadow entering a place thick with blood and rebirth.
Without glancing at the medics rushing about, he walked straight toward a silver-gray figure leaning against a post, arms folded and eyes cold, Orochimaru.
"Status."
Orochimaru turned slowly, golden eyes meeting Danzō's gaze. The air between them seemed to freeze.
"Tsunade and the so-called dead-last," his chin tilted toward the operating table, "are dying. Kamiyama Ryo…" His gaze shifted to the stretcher, where the boy's breathing was shallow and faint. "Grievously wounded, comatose."
A pause. His voice cut sharp and clean. "Left shoulder, through-and-through. Thigh torn open. Overdose of field meds. A numbing neurotoxin from Iwa is spreading. Without immediate treatment, the damage will set deep."
Danzō's gaze fell on Ryo like a vulture sizing up dying prey. Once he confirmed the state of both bodies, something flickered behind his eye, part analysis, part calculation, and something colder still.
"How did they get back?" he asked at last, his tone dark and heavy.
The corner of Orochimaru's mouth curved faintly, a near-mockery.
"Space-time ninjutsu," he said. His golden eyes cut toward the unconscious boy, as if weighing him on a scale. "He broke through Iwa's spatial interference." His pupils narrowed. "No doubt. The Flying Thunder God Technique."
"Space…?" Danzō's breath caught. His single eye trembled with shock, disbelief, and fury before he forced it all down.
The Flying Thunder God.
An S-rank forbidden art from the Scroll of Seals. A legend, untouched for decades.
Hiruzen actually allowed that monster to learn it. And the boy had succeeded, in the middle of death itself, at his age.
A colder rage than the Iwa ambush seized Danzō's chest like iron claws.
At Konoha's command post, reinforcement units were mustering. The slaughter on Ridge B-7 had everyone on edge. Headquarters was already boiling over. Yet,
"Stand down."
Danzō's voice cut through the chaos.
"Recall the reinforcements. Hold position." The order fell heavy and final.
Several staffers froze, stunned.
Danzō's gaze stayed fixed on Orochimaru. "Transmit immediately. Cancel reinforcements. Hold position," he repeated, his tone sharp and fraying. "They're already back."
"But, Danzō-sama! Jiraiya-sama and Tsunade-sama," a staffer began, panicked.
"I said recall! Execute now!" Danzō's voice was like an ice pick driven through the man's spine. The ninja shuddered and ran to obey.
Silence fell again, broken only by the hum of chakra and Tsunade's ragged breathing.
Danzō's chest rose and fell as he fought to suppress his anger. His dark gaze shifted back to Orochimaru. "A complete report. To me. To Hiruzen." His tone made it clear it was an order, not a request.
"…As you wish." Orochimaru straightened, a cold glint flickering in his eyes before fading. He knew this report would shake Konoha's very foundations. His gaze lingered on the unconscious Ryo and then returned to Danzō, his unease deepening.
Without another word, he slipped out through the tent flaps and into the pounding rain.
Danzō stood alone, the scent of blood and antiseptic thick around him.
His eyes returned to the stretcher, to the boy lying there pale and unmoving.
Severe wounds, coma, dying. Such a fragile state. One small accident, one slight delay in treatment would be enough.
A cold light flickered in his eyes. He drew a slow breath, heavy and deliberate, then turned away.
"Keep this place under watch," he said to a Root ninja hidden in the shadows. "Any anomaly, report immediately." With that, he vanished into the deeper dark of the command tent.
(To be continued.)
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◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on Pat if you're interested: p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves (Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)