Central Fortress.
Ōnoki floated mid-air, gazing down at the fully mobilized allied forces of the two nations, fearless and ready for battle.
He didn't waste a single word. His hands moved swiftly to form seals.
"Land of Fire, Land of Wind."
"You think cornering my men will be enough to bring down Iwagakure?"
"Keep dreaming!"
Chakra surged violently.
The air distorted. A terrifying force condensed in Ōnoki's withered hands.
"Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique!"
A blinding white beam tore through the sky, erupting in an instant.
Rasa's face changed drastically as he shouted, "Disperse! Quickly, move!"
But it was already too late.
Everything in the beam's path disintegrated into nothing.
Earth, stone, even the air itself was broken down into particles.
Boom!
The beam struck the front outpost of the allied forces.
More than ten shinobi caught in the blast were annihilated before they could even scream.
This was Dust Release.
This was the power of the Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki.
In the allied camp, faces paled.
Orochimaru narrowed his slit pupils. "Tch… this old man doesn't even bother with a greeting."
Rasa had no time for sarcasm. He roared, "All units, prepare for battle!"
In an instant, yellow sand surged into the sky as countless Suna shinobi rushed from the camp.
On Konoha's side, at Orochimaru's signal, their forces also moved toward Iwagakure's reinforcements.
The great battle was about to begin.
Ōnoki hovered high above, eyes cold.
"Come."
"I'll show you... what it means to be a Kage!"
As he spoke, he activated Dust Release again.
Beams of white light, like divine punishment, rained down without pause.
Each one meant a life lost.
The formation of the allied army was quickly thrown into chaos.
Their counterattacks—whether ninjutsu or weapons—couldn't reach the floating Ōnoki.
"Damn it!" Rasa clenched his teeth. "Old man, come down if you've got the guts!"
"Heh, why don't you come up?" Ōnoki mocked.
He wasn't foolish. Floating in the sky meant absolute control. None of them could touch him.
Orochimaru stood nearby, a rare seriousness in his eyes.
"The Third Tsuchikage lives up to his name."
"Truly shameless… but formidable."
"This battle… won't be easy."
On the battlefield, Ōnoki alone suppressed the entire allied army.
The Iwagakure shinobi below were greatly encouraged. Seeing their Tsuchikage dominate, they were ready to charge in and fight.
But Ōnoki ordered a retreat.
He could fly and attack with guerrilla tactics.
But his eight hundred men couldn't.
If they engaged in melee combat, outnumbered as they were, they'd be overwhelmed instantly.
Ōnoki understood this perfectly.
His initial bombardment was only to boost morale and issue a warning to the enemy.
How the battle would unfold… still required careful planning.
While Ōnoki continued provoking the allied army…
Outside distant Iwagakure.
Abandoned mine.
The One-Eyed Man stood and stretched.
"It's almost time."
He looked up. "Two more hours until nightfall."
"Then we move."
The rōnin began checking their gear.
Kunai, shuriken, explosive tags—everything was ready.
Biwa Jūzō wiped his Kubikiribōchō. The broad blade gleamed with a cold light.
"Oi, Kakuzu." He asked lazily, not looking up. "How many guards do you think the granary will have?"
"No idea," Kakuzu replied flatly. "But it shouldn't be many."
"Iwagakure's main force is out fighting."
"Their rear defenses have to be weak."
"Good." Jūzō grinned, his expression twisted. "This blade hasn't tasted blood in a long time."
Kakuzu said nothing. He sat silently, meditating.
He only cared about one thing.
The reward.
Five million ryō.
Not a fortune, but not pocket change either.
Enough to pad his treasury.
As for Iwagakure's fate? It didn't matter.
He was just a bounty shinobi.
He worked for whoever paid.
Time passed minute by minute.
The sky gradually darkened.
Finally, night fell completely.
The One-Eyed Man stood and looked up at the sky.
"Time to move."
One hundred and forty-three rōnin silently emerged from the cave.
They split into two teams.
One team headed stealthily toward Iwagakure.
The other made their way toward the granary in the central region of the Land of Earth.
Under the moonlight, their shadows stretched long.
Iwagakure.
Late at night, everything was still.
The streets were empty, save for distant torchlight from guard posts flickering in the dark.
At the village entrance.
Two Iwa shinobi were on night watch.
"Hey, what do you think is going on at the Western Front?" the younger one yawned.
"Who knows," the older one shook his head. "Tsuchikage-sama went personally. We should be fine."
"I hope so."
The young shinobi stretched. "I just hope tonight passes peacefully."
"Guard duty is so boring."
"Boring's good," the older one chuckled. "Boring means no danger."
"You're still too green."
The younger one was about to talk back when—
A faint sound echoed in the distance.
Both instantly grew alert.
"What was that?" the younger one gripped his kunai tightly.
"Could be a wildcat," the older one said. "They show up around here often."
"No…"
The younger one narrowed his eyes. "Something feels off."
Cautiously, kunai in hand, he approached the village edge and peered into the shadows.
In the dark, something was moving.
"Hey, you—" the older one began.
Whoosh!
A shadow flashed.
The younger shinobi felt a chill on his throat. Blood spurted out.
His eyes widened. He couldn't make a sound before collapsing.
Thud.
"Enemy attack!"
The older shinobi shouted instantly.
But the next moment, several shadows burst from the darkness, surrounding him.
"Apologies," came a cold voice in the night.
"For the sake of my reward, you'll have to die."
Pfft.
A kunai pierced his heart.
The One-Eyed Man waved his hand.
The rōnin surged into the village like a tide.
"Remember, keep it fast."
"Loot and leave. Don't linger."
"Yes!"
More than a hundred rōnin responded and scattered like ghosts.
Their goal was simple.
Burn. Kill. Loot. Create chaos.
The One-Eyed Man led a squad of ten straight toward the Tsuchikage Building.
(To be continued.)
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