Iwagakure lay in the distant northwest, while Kirigakure rested in the far southeast. The distance between them was enormous, so every moment mattered.
The sooner an agreement was reached, the sooner the Mist could march. The faster they moved, the less pressure Iwagakure would bear, and the higher their odds of victory.
While Ōnoki and his council debated, far away in the Land of Grass, Uchiha Gen received word that Sunagakure had dispatched reinforcements.
He immediately hurried to Orochimaru's newly established research base to report.
After scanning the intelligence, Orochimaru sighed with faint regret.
"So, the Village forced Sunagakure's hand. There's no way to stall anymore."
He didn't care much about access to the Scroll of Seals, he had already copied every ninjutsu and forbidden art that piqued his interest. Nor was he concerned with research funding.
Once, he might have been. But now, having opened the door to an entirely new world, money was no longer an obstacle. What stung was Hiruzen forbidding him from joining official research projects.
Orochimaru's main obsession was immortality, but his curiosity stretched far beyond that. To him, every field was a thread toward uncovering the world's truth. Being barred from it felt like shackles.
Gen folded his arms, lips quirking into a pout. "It's a shame, but nothing fatal. Worst case, we stockpile while we can."
"That's right," Orochimaru agreed with a thin smile.
"Then let's head back to camp. Once things are settled, we'll go hunting again."
"Agreed."
Since the war had slowed to a grinding stalemate, the main and deputy commanders on both sides rarely acted directly, remaining instead at their posts.
On paper, Kitsuchi and the Five-Tails' jinchūriki Han followed that pattern. But Gen and Orochimaru only appeared to.
Gen spent his days plotting based on Iwagakure's troop deployments, collecting souls according to schedule, and occasionally venturing out with Orochimaru to 'earn a little extra.'
Orochimaru, meanwhile, would swoop on Iwagakure and Kusagakure shinobi, abducting them alive whenever possible for experiments. If they happened to die in the process, their corpses still became raw material.
In truth, over eighty percent of the shinobi 'disappearances' that left Iwagakure and Kusagakure baffled were Orochimaru's handiwork.
With Sunagakure reinforcements expected any day, neither master nor disciple dared range too far. If the allied army arrived and both commanders were missing, it would leave a poor impression.
They estimated Suna's force would arrive soon and returned to Konoha's camp, ready to rally their troops at a moment's notice.
But nine o'clock came. Still no Sand shinobi.
Their patience worn thin, master and disciple dismissed the heightened alert, left scouts and Byakugan sentries in place, and sat down to dinner together.
Here the Hyūga clan's gift shone brightest; the Byakugan's range all but erased the chance of a sneak attack. With that assurance, Konoha's shinobi could always eat, rest, and relax without fear.
Iwagakure had its own safeguards, of course, but nothing that could compare.
That night, Gen and Orochimaru sat outside the command tent, surrounded by guards on duty. The weather was perfect for stargazing: a cloudless sky, pale moonlight, and a breeze that carried no dust, letting countless stars glimmer in vivid colors.
"Kusagakure faded early, and Sunagakure's late," Orochimaru observed. "Most likely, Iwagakure caught wind of our movements and made arrangements."
"Should we send support?" he added.
Gen placed a slice of beef over his rice, swallowed what was in his mouth, then answered evenly.
"No need. Iwagakure couldn't improvise a perfect counter in so little time, not against a thousand shinobi. Sunagakure must have hit resistance, but nothing fatal."
Orochimaru plucked a tea egg from the pot. Blue chakra flared faintly from his fingers, peeling the shell away piece by piece before he dropped it into his waiting mouth.
"They're ambushing Suna, yet their front lines stay quiet. Clearly, reinforcements have arrived," Orochimaru mused.
"Ōnoki is a sly old fox," Gen agreed. "This war isn't close to ending."
"All the more reason to stockpile while we can."
With that, they let strategy fade away and turned their focus to the meal.
It was worth noting that Orochimaru had an oddly deep love for eggs. By the end, most of the pot of tea eggs had vanished into his stomach.
The next morning, at ten sharp, Iwagakure's reinforcements marched brazenly into their camp.
Half an hour later, Sunagakure's troops arrived as well.
Though allied, Sand's relationship with Konoha was far from warm, and so they established their own camp ten li southeast, close enough to support if needed, but positioned so that if the enemy attacked head-on, Konoha would take the brunt.
A cunning choice.
Once their camp was secured, Sunagakure's commanders came to pay respects.
At the time, Baki and Pakura were not yet known beyond their borders, but Orochimaru and Uchiha Gen still met them at the entrance.
Baki was wrapped in white cloth, his left cheek hidden beneath a strip, two red markings painted across the right. A black battle suit clung beneath yellow-brown jonin armor.
Most of the Sand shinobi were the same, cloths wound around their heads, ears covered. The sight was almost comical. A cruel saying spread among shinobi nations: 'With a rag on your head, you're the richest in the world.' But everyone knew the truth; Sunagakure was the poorest of the Five Great Villages.
Pakura, however, was striking. Her dark-green bun was held by a silver hairpin, with bright orange strands framing her face. A backless black dress clung to her torso, light purple pants and sleeves completing the look, white bandages wrapped tightly around her waist. Her figure was tall and elegant, curves shaped with precision, her delicate features shining with martial spirit.
She was, without question, a rare beauty among kunoichi.
"Orochimaru-sama, Gen-sama," Baki and Pakura said together, quickening their steps and bowing lightly.
Though 'allies,' their positions were not equal. Konoha had crushed Sunagakure in the last war, seizing twenty percent of its mission share. Sunagakure hated the humiliation but lacked the strength to resist.
Now, with Konoha's prestige soaring and Orochimaru's name already whispered across nations, the Sand shinobi could do nothing but show courtesy.
Orochimaru gave only a curt nod, his aloofness as sharp as ever.
Gen, by contrast, wore his usual gentle smile. Turning slightly, he raised a hand in invitation.
"Welcome. Please, come in."
"Thank you, Gen-sama," they replied.
But before moving, both glanced at Orochimaru.
"Enter," he said simply, turning back toward the camp.
Only then did Baki, Pakura, and their attendants follow Orochimaru and Uchiha Gen inside the Konoha encampment…