Chapter 51: The Gourd That Seals the Three-Tails
On an island not far from the coastline, dense fog shrouded the surroundings, rendering the island's interior impossible to discern from afar. Passing through the ring of mist encircling the island and crossing a stretch of forest, one would eventually arrive at a vast, orderly, and heavily guarded encampment capable of housing several thousand people.
This was the Mist Village's forward headquarters for its invasion of the Land of Fire—the command center that directed the movements of thousands of Mist ninja across the battlefield. Orders issued from here determined where and how they clashed with Konoha's forces across multiple fronts.
Today, however, the atmosphere within the camp was oppressively heavy, mirroring the leaden clouds hanging low in the sky. On the faces of most Mist ninja, there was nothing left but numbness and suppressed frustration.
The campaign against the Land of Fire had gone disastrously poorly.
They had failed to break—let alone collapse—the defensive lines Konoha had established along the eastern coastline. On the rare occasions they managed to punch through a section, the gains were fleeting; once Konoha reinforcements arrived, the Mist forces were inevitably driven back.
At one point, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist had pushed all the way to the outskirts of Konoha itself—only to encounter a single Konoha genin. Four of the Seven were killed on the spot. Only three managed to escape.
After that, the Fourth Mizukage personally entered the battlefield. Yet even then, he was stopped by one of Konoha's legendary Sannin—Orochimaru—and the two fought to a standstill. When the monstrous prodigy known as Shisui of the Body Flicker arrived soon after, the Mist forces had no choice but to retreat.
The only achievement they could boast about was Ao's successful seizure of a Hyūga clan Byakugan—a meager consolation that barely helped them cling to a shred of morale.
But even that fragile confidence had long since worn thin.
Operation after operation had ended in failure, each one smashing headlong into Konoha's defenses. Day by day, the pressure within the camp only grew heavier.
"Let's withdraw."
At last, someone spoke the word aloud.
The moment it was said, the command tent fell silent.
No one objected.
The assembled commanders exchanged glances, seeing the same exhaustion and gloom reflected in one another's faces. In the end, as if by unspoken agreement, they all turned their eyes toward the figure seated at the head of the table.
"Why are you all looking at me?"
The figure spoke calmly.
He had grey hair and pink eyes, a short and slender build, and the appearance of a young child—no more than twelve or thirteen years old at first glance. In truth, however, he was already in his twenties.
He was the Fourth Mizukage of the Hidden Mist—Yagura Karatachi, a leader whose tenure was still short, yet whose authority weighed heavily upon the fate of the entire village.
He swept his gaze across the room. Some lowered their heads in silence; others wore blank, unreadable expressions. Not a single person met the Fourth Mizukage's questioning eyes—until his gaze finally settled on the man who had first proposed withdrawal.
The middle-aged man had gentle features and emerald-green eyes. He glanced around at his colleagues and let out a helpless sigh before deliberately meeting the Mizukage's gaze. With firm resolve, he spoke:
"Mizukage-sama, the current situation has essentially stabilized. Any attempt to turn the tide now would be extraordinarily difficult. In my opinion, remaining here to grind ourselves down serves no purpose. I suggest we withdraw while Konoha has yet to prepare a full counteroffensive. We can return to the village in good order, rebuild our strength, and wait for the next opportunity to march into the Land of Fire."
His tone was sincere, his attitude earnest—clearly spoken from the standpoint of what he believed was best for the village.
"Terumi Clan Head recommends withdrawal," Yagura Karatachi said calmly once the man finished. "What about the rest of you? Do we fight on, or do we leave?"
At that moment—
Sitting directly opposite the green-eyed man was a stern-looking middle-aged figure with reddish-brown hair. His presence alone carried weight, even in silence. Now, he spoke decisively:
"I don't think we've reached the point where we need to give up."
"Jōnin Kirishima," Yagura said, his brows knitting slightly as he looked at the man. "Do you believe we still have a chance to turn the situation around?"
The moment the question was asked, understanding dawned on many faces in the tent. It was clear that the Mizukage himself leaned toward withdrawal and doubted the possibility of a reversal.
Several of the Mizukage's supporters—who had been uncertain of his stance—now felt reassured and were ready to voice their support for the Terumi clan head's proposal.
However—
Kirishima Shinya spoke again.
"Mizukage-sama, Konoha has fought successive wars against the Sand, Stone, and Cloud Villages. They may have won, but there's no doubt their vitality has been severely drained. Meanwhile, the Cloud Village—largely unscathed in the northeast—is growing restless and has already tied down a significant portion of Konoha's forces. This is precisely our best opportunity!"
"Shinya Kirishima, don't spout nonsense," the Terumi clan head snapped back coldly. "Yes, Konoha is weakened—but even in that state, they're still holding us firmly at the coastline with a single defensive line. Tell me, how exactly do you plan to make use of this so-called 'best opportunity'?"
Had the man sitting across from him been the head of the Kirishima clan, his tone would have been far more restrained. But Kirishima Shinya was not the clan head—merely a jōnin of the Kirishima clan. Even if he was the acknowledged heir, that title alone did not warrant special courtesy until he formally assumed leadership.
Kirishima Shinya said nothing at first. Instead, he slowly scanned the room once more, ensuring no insignificant or untrusted figures were present. Only then did he smile and say:
"I've had the Samehada Gourd brought here."
"What?!"
The Terumi clan head shot to his feet, fury blazing in his eyes as he glared at Shinya.
"Kirishima Shinya, have you lost your mind?!"
Even Yagura Karatachi's expression darkened.
The so-called Samehada Gourd was a special ninja artifact belonging to the Kirishima clan—said to have been forged centuries ago by a powerful member of the Uzumaki clan. Its purpose was singular: to seal tailed beasts.
At present, one of Kirigakure's two tailed beasts—the Three-Tails—was sealed within this very gourd.
Logically, such an artifact should have been under the village's direct control. But every village had its own internal troubles. Just as Konoha had the Uchiha—a ticking time bomb—Kirigakure had its own problems.
The issue was that Kirigakure's great clans were simply too many—and too powerful.
The Kirishima clan possessed the Kekkei Genkai Boil Release, and its overall strength was formidable. Even more troublesome was the fact that the First Mizukage himself had come from the Kirishima clan. In many ways, they were the founders of Kirigakure, wielding unparalleled influence within the village.
The Samehada Gourd had always belonged to the Kirishima clan. Though successive Mizukage had coveted it—believing such an object should fall under village authority—neither the Second nor Third Mizukage had been able to force the issue. And Yagura Karatachi, newly appointed as the Fourth Mizukage, was in an even weaker position to demand it.
"I'm not insane," Kirishima Shinya said, baring his teeth in a feral grin. "My mind is clearer than ever. Orochimaru has turned that defensive line blocking us into an iron fortress—but if Konoha were suddenly attacked by a tailed beast, do you really think that line would remain so unbreakable?"
His smile twisted into something cruel and dangerous.
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