In the clearing, only a handful of the Jonin had been swayed by Orochimaru's logic. They gathered their squads and departed to prepare for the next phase of the battle. The majority, however, remained hesitant. One in particular—a known confidant of the high commander—was locked in a fierce shouting match with Orochimaru.
"Orochimaru! You're just the Deputy Commander! How dare you bypass the Commander's authority and issue orders? This is outright mutiny!"
"I call it foresight and decisive action," Orochimaru replied smoothly.
"You're too young! In a crisis of this magnitude, only the Commander has the experience to make the right call."
"I take issue with that," Orochimaru countered. "Tell me, what are the Commander's orders?"
"To hold our ground and resist!"
"And then?"
"What? What do you mean, 'and then'?"
Orochimaru pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed. "Regardless of whether the order to hold ground is correct, we need specifics. How long do we resist? Under what conditions do we withdraw? Where is the rally point? What is the signal for the next set of orders? Surely there's more to the plan than just 'stand there and die'?"
"..."
Disappointment washed over the assembled ninjas. It was clear there was no follow-up plan. The order had been a knee-jerk reaction, completely untethered from tactical reality.
Every eye turned back to Orochimaru. The feminine young man lowered his hand from his eyes, his expression unreadable.
"Follow my lead," Orochimaru said. "Continue the retreat. If there are consequences, I will take—"
BOOM.
To the north, a massive plume of purple poison mist erupted. Even at a distance of one kilometer, and even in the dim light of the rainy night, the thick, unnatural fog was unmistakable against the darkness.
"Salamander Hanzo!!" someone screamed.
The hesitation evaporated instantly. Even the Commander's cronies fell in line, submitting to Orochimaru's authority to organize the retreat and defense. With a unified purpose, the camp's movements became swift and orderly.
The Commander's confidant pleaded with Orochimaru to send someone to relay the situation to the Commander. Orochimaru agreed. He extended his right hand and snapped his fingers.
Son of a bitch, Tetsumaru cursed internally. His body, however, moved with practiced ease, performing a Body Flicker to appear at Orochimaru's right side.
Without even turning his head, Orochimaru issued the command: "Go. Find him."
"Yes, Lord Orochimaru," Tetsumaru replied, playing his part in the theater perfectly. He signaled his two bewildered subordinates and set off toward the center of the camp, pushing against the flow of the retreating crowd.
The scene left the onlookers in awe. That Orochimaru had such a high-quality "loyalist" under his command suggested he had quietly built a significant power base. That was a terrifying realization.
The three disciples of the Hokage were all exceptional elite Jonin, but in terms of public prestige, Orochimaru was usually at the bottom. Tsunade was the most famous—the granddaughter of the First Hokage, the granddaughter-in-law of the Daimyo, and the world's greatest medical ninja. Her prestige was peerless. Jiraiya came next; he was the strongest in raw power and possessed a roguish, approachable charm that made him a favorite among the rank-and-file.
Orochimaru's only titles were "Hokage's Disciple" and "Elite Jonin." Combined with his introverted nature and obsession with research, few people truly knew him. His reputation was the smallest of the three.
The performance between Orochimaru and Tetsumaru changed that perception for the Jonin present. As they took their next orders, they began addressing Orochimaru as "Lord."
Orochimaru maintained his stoic mask, but internally, he was quite pleased. He had finally decided to fully accept Aburame Tetsumaru as one of his own.
Moving rapidly through the camp, Tetsumaru hissed to his stunned subordinates, "Stop staring. I'll explain later. Focus, or you're going to die."
He produced three sets of gas masks he'd prepared long ago and distributed them.
Aligning himself with Orochimaru wasn't a whim; it was a cold, calculated move. To achieve his goals, he was willing to endure even dangerous, "fodder-tier" missions.
When he first stepped onto the battlefield, Tetsumaru had been a total rookie despite his preparations. Luckily, he had been paired with a captain who possessed a "Luck" stat that defied logic, which had carried him through his "newbie phase."
Over the past year, three things had left an indelible mark on him: the majesty of a Jinchuriki, the mystery of the Sea of Souls, and the sheer incompetence of Shimura Danzo.
Under Danzo's erratic command, Tetsumaru had been sent into enemy territory with a heart full of despair again and again. The constant threat of death, combined with the frustration of being politically suppressed, had taught him one vital lesson: without a patron, a ninja is nothing but a statistic.
He needed a reliable backer.
In the world of politics, "providing charcoal in a snowstorm" is always better than "adding flowers to a bouquet." Joining an established faction was difficult and often left one as an expendable asset.
In Konoha Year 32, there were only six ninjas capable of establishing their own "peaks": Sakumo Hatake, the three Sannin, Uchiha Fugaku, and Hyuga Hiashi.
Sakumo was an idealist—too politically naive and blunt. Fugaku was a "pig" leader—choosing him would be worse than having no leader at all. Hiashi was nearsighted, seeing nothing beyond the walls of his own clan. Jiraiya and Tsunade had no interest in building a faction.
That left Orochimaru as the only viable option. Until the race for the Fourth Hokage, his position would be rock-solid. He could provide at least ten years of stable protection.
The trio swallowed their anti-toxin pills, secured their masks, and plunged into the purple haze.
The toxicity of Hanzo's salamander venom was legendary. Even with maximum protection, a ninja could only last ten minutes before the poison became lethal. They had to get in and out fast.
Fortunately, Tetsumaru's insects could survive for fifteen minutes by sealing their spiracles and entering a state of dormancy. If they couldn't, he would have been forced to shed his bug armor, severely compromising his defense.
They hadn't been in the mist for a minute before they stumbled upon a squad of Ame-nin. Tetsumaru relied on his Armor Beetles to ignore the hail of incoming senbon, charging straight into their ranks to shatter their formation.
With the Ame-nin in disarray, their sudden chakra surges gave his two Genjutsu specialists the opening they needed. With practiced coordination, Akira and Yun ensnared the four Ame-nin in twin illusions.
"We're on the clock. No prisoners," Tetsumaru ordered, not even slowing down.
Akira silently flicked four shuriken, each finding a throat, before he and Yun blurred back into position behind their Captain.
This was the decisive power of Genjutsu—the reason it was a primary category of shinobi arts. The principle was simple: disrupt the enemy's chakra. Normally, such a disruption was easily detected and countered with a simple Release. A master, however, had to be sensitive enough to catch the rhythm of the enemy's natural chakra fluctuations and weave their disruption into it seamlessly.
Because of this, Genjutsu users were polarized. Those without the talent didn't dare use it for fear of a backlash; those with the talent were gods who could slaughter anything in their path.
The only way to bridge the gap was cover. A teammate had to force the enemy into a state of high-intensity chakra use, creating the "turbulence" necessary for a Genjutsu user to slip through.
Tetsumaru's willingness to act as the "tank" and create openings for his subordinates was a direct violation of standard shinobi doctrine, where Genjutsu users were usually relegated to support and ordered to force openings for the heavy hitters. It was a major reason why Akira and Yun were becoming increasingly loyal to him.
Leading from the front and "Follow me"—Tetsumaru's leadership philosophy was simple, but its effectiveness was universal.
Within three minutes of entering the mist, the trio had dismantled three Ame squads. Their coordination was sharpening with every kill. The third Ame squad didn't even get to fight; they were ensnared so thoroughly that they used their own jutsu to slaughter one another.
In the fourth minute, Tetsumaru finally found the Commander. He was currently "fighting" Hanzo. Because his strength was severely suppressed by the poison fog, the Commander was being systematically dismantled by the Half-God.
The Commander tried to parry Hanzo's scythe with his ninjato, but Hanzo's raw physical power was too much. His guard broke, leaving him open to the follow-up strike. The weighted hammer at the other end of Hanzo's chain slammed into the Commander's spine.
The man coughed up a spray of blood, his lungs hitching as he gasped for air. The inhalation was his undoing; the concentrated poison instantly turned his face a sickly shade of purple. Veins bulged from his neck as he collapsed, his body going rigid.
The Commander's personal guards surged forward, throwing their lives away to buy seconds for a rescue. They were slaughtered in heartbeats, but they achieved their goal: the Commander was dragged to a safe distance.
After a cocktail of antidotes and a high-grade injection formulated by Tsunade, the Commander finally gasped back to life. Tetsumaru seized the moment to relay Orochimaru's status and the rally orders.
"Damn it... Hiruzen's disciple... quite the opportunist," the man wheezed.
"Sir, your orders?"
"Orders? Who knew Hanzo was this powerful? I'm in no condition to fight. If Orochimaru has a plan, we follow it."
Recognizing he had failed to stop Hanzo and that Orochimaru's plan was the only way to save face, the old veteran—a survivor of the Warring States—conceded the point without further argument.
"Fire the signal. All units retreat East. Follow Orochimaru's lead."
The old man wasn't just a survivor; he was a political animal. His shamelessness had transcended "thick-skinned" and reached the level of "non-existent."
He narrowed his eyes at Tetsumaru. "Your squad is at full combat strength. I'm assigning you an A-rank mission: hold this position and intercept Salamander Hanzo's advance."
Tetsumaru was so stunned his eyes nearly bulged out from behind his sunglasses. He managed to choke back his rage and accepted the order with a stiff bow.
Satisfied, the Commander ordered his surviving guards to carry him and flee.
As their silhouettes vanished into the purple fog, Tetsumaru's expression flattened. His "rage" had been a performance; he had no intention of following such a suicidal order.
The Commander had been outmaneuvered by Orochimaru and was about to lose a significant portion of his authority. To prevent himself from being completely marginalized, he had to suppress Orochimaru's influence wherever possible. Tetsumaru's squad was clearly part of Orochimaru's inner circle, so the old man had simply assigned them a death sentence. If they succeeded, great; if they died, even better. It was just a sentence to him.
Tetsumaru had performed the "angry subordinate" role because he was worried the Commander might have him executed on the spot if he didn't give the man a moment of petty satisfaction. The Commander's personal guards were no joke, and their leader was a Jonin; Tetsumaru had no desire to fight them.
He knew he could escape if it came to a fight, but striking a high-level official would get him branded a rogue ninja. Under the circumstances, a bit of improvisational theater was a small price to pay.
But the delay meant they couldn't just run. He had to leave a "buffer."
Tetsumaru wove a set of hand seals. Secret Technique: Insect Clone.
An identical replica made of Kikaichu materialized before him. A swarm of Armor Beetles flowed from his body onto the clone like a liquid carpet. Finally, he attached several sensory bugs to the clone's head to ensure he could pilot it from a distance.
The construct would only last ten minutes in this toxic fog, but it was enough to buy them a head start.
With the decoy ready, Tetsumaru signaled his subordinates to move. Akira and Yun looked like their souls had left their bodies; their worldviews had been shattered and rebuilt three times over the course of the night.
They hadn't been running for fifteen seconds when Salamander Hanzo emerged from the mist, having tracked their scents. He landed exactly where the clone was waiting.
Secret Technique: Insect Sphere!
Tetsumaru piloted the clone to launch the attack. But before the Kikaichu could even touch Hanzo's head, a concentrated burst of the man's breath sent the insects tumbling from the air, dead before they hit the ground.
Secret Technique: Insect Storm!
Tetsumaru's clone had no shortage of chakra or insects. He launched a massive-scale secret art. As a tornado of Kikaichu surrounded Hanzo, a giant maw erupted from the mist and bit the cyclone in half.
Ibuse had arrived. The giant salamander shredded the storm in three bites, its concentrated breath rotting the remaining insects instantly.
Tetsumaru tried to pilot the clone for one last assault, but a flash of cold steel caught its right shoulder. Hanzo had found the source. He closed the distance in a blur, striking with the scythe of his kusarigama.
Sparks flew. The clone staggered under the impact. The scythe managed to slice through the Armor Beetles, but it only took out a few; the clone itself remained functional.
Hanzo paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. His weapon was forged of chakra metal and he had infused it with significant energy. What kind of armor is this? Or is it a new jutsu?
He didn't stop to ponder. If cutting didn't work, he'd use blunt force. Hanzo swung the weighted hammer of his chain in a wide arc, slamming it into the clone's chest, followed by a rapid sequence to the back of the head and the ribs.
The three heavy impacts shattered the clone's structure. Tetsumaru lost the connection.
It didn't matter. The trio had cleared the poison zone and discarded their masks. At this distance, Hanzo wouldn't bother tracking three "low-level" scouts.
They were safe.
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