The last Iwagakure shinobi hit the ground, and the battlefield erupted.
Five hundred Amegakure ninjas roared their triumph — raw, unrestrained, disbelieving. A decisive victory against one of the Five Great Villages, achieved with virtually zero casualties.
Some of the veterans who'd served under Hanzō wept openly.
They could feel it — Amegakure had returned. The era when their village could stand toe-to-toe with the Great Five wasn't a memory anymore. It was now. Yahiko, Nagato, and Konan had fought with a ferocity that left them stunned. Whether the three matched Hanzō in raw strength was debatable, but what they'd demonstrated today was undeniable.
Natsuki descended from the sky.
He hadn't found a single opening to intervene. Hadn't needed one.
He had to acknowledge it — Nagato now possessed genuine Kage-level combat power. If he went all out and summoned the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path, that ceiling climbed even higher. Konan and Yahiko both exceeded standard jōnin by a wide margin, firmly in Elite Jōnin territory.
"Natsuki-sensei!"
Yahiko jogged over, grinning so hard his face might split. Nagato and Konan followed — smiling too, though more restrained.
"You performed flawlessly. But don't let it go to your heads — the real test hasn't started." Natsuki shifted to operational mode. "Clean the battlefield, then push forward into the Land of Earth. Establish camps and forward outposts on their soil."
"Set the front line inside the Land of Earth?" Yahiko caught the logic instantly.
"You've spent years rebuilding the Land of Rain. We're not letting this war tear it apart again." Natsuki gripped his shoulder. "Hold for two days. I'll be back with Konoha's main force."
"Yes, Natsuki-sensei!" Yahiko's voice was iron. "Not a single Stone shinobi will set foot in the Land of Rain."
[Congratulations — Artoria Template Ability 5: Sword of Promised Victory has been unlocked.]
The notification stopped Natsuki mid-thought.
Then the surprise broke into a grin.
Finally.
The Sword of Promised Victory needed no explanation. It was concentrated, overwhelming destructive force — pure and absolute. Its output scaled with the user's chakra, and at full power, it exceeded even a Tailed Beast Ball.
Natsuki had the Black Grail.
Paired with the Sword of Promised Victory, he was effectively a walking Tailed Beast.
"Time to head back." He glanced at the brightening sky. "Stay sharp — all of you."
He activated Moonwalk and launched skyward, climbing to high altitude before opening an Air Door. A precaution — the fewer Amegakure shinobi who knew about the Door-Door Fruit, the better.
He vanished.
Back in Konoha, Natsuki reported to Orochimaru: Amegakure's forces had wiped out the Stone's vanguard.
Orochimaru was mildly surprised, though not excessively — he assumed Natsuki had personally intervened. Natsuki didn't correct him.
He returned to the Senju compound.
Before he'd even cleared the gate, a body crashed into his chest.
Kushina.
"Didn't I already tell you?" He stroked her red hair, voice soft. "I have space-time ninjutsu. I'll be home every day."
"I know." She looked up at him. "But the battlefield is different. It's dangerous."
"With my strength? Who's going to threaten me?"
"Aren't you two forgetting someone?" Tsunade's voice carried from the porch.
Natsuki and Kushina turned.
"Not me." Tsunade blinked, then pointed at Yakushi Nonou, who stood quietly to the side.
Kushina's arms dropped.
"There's not much to say." Natsuki coughed lightly. "I'll come back whenever I can."
He said his goodbyes and headed for Konoha's main gate.
The thousand-strong expeditionary force was already assembled, formation tight, awaiting orders.
"Natsuki." Mikoto stepped forward. As Hokage Secretary, she'd been designated deputy commander.
"Natsuki-sensei." Guy, Kurenai, and Shizune appeared at his side.
"Move out."
Land of Earth — Tsuchikage's office.
Ōnoki heard rapid knocking and looked up, a confident smile already forming.
Results from the Rain should be arriving right about now.
"Come in."
The door opened — and it wasn't an Anbu operative. It was Kitsuchi, his son.
The smile died.
"The five hundred shinobi under Taiseki were ambushed by Amegakure." Kitsuchi drew a heavy breath. "Total annihilation."
"Total annihilation?" Ōnoki shot to his feet. "How is that possible? An Amegakure without Hanzō — how could they wipe out our vanguard?"
"No survivors, so we don't have battle details." Kitsuchi's voice was low, controlled. "What we do know is that it's directly connected to the Akatsuki Organization."
Ōnoki sank back into his chair.
He knew the Akatsuki's history well enough. They'd first appeared during Hanzō's era — a small insurgent group that, with Konoha's backing, had seized control of Amegakure.
"Amegakure's intelligence capabilities shouldn't be good enough to detect our vanguard on their own," Kitsuchi continued. "Konoha had to be feeding them information."
He handed over a scroll. "Fresh intelligence. Konoha's Natsuki is leading a thousand shinobi toward the Land of Rain as we speak."
"A thousand can't be assembled in a single morning." Ōnoki's eyes narrowed as he read. "They detected our vanguard yesterday. That's the only explanation for Amegakure setting an ambush in advance."
"Agreed."
"Then there's nothing more to discuss." Ōnoki's voice hardened. "Order Gari to take the Explosion Corps and two thousand shinobi to the Land of Rain."
Five hundred dead demanded a response. Pulling back now would be unconscionable — those shinobi had families waiting for answers. And Iwagakure's strength could sustain simultaneous conflicts with both Kirigakure and Konoha. They'd hold.
"Yes, Father."
Across the continent, three Kage received the same intelligence.
The Third Raikage saw opportunity. Konoha and the Stone grinding each other down meant both would bleed — and when the bleeding stopped, the Cloud would be positioned to capitalize.
The Third Mizukage saw a problem. If Konoha decided to fight on two fronts, the Mist could find itself facing the Leaf and the Cloud simultaneously. They didn't have the strength for that.
The Fourth Kazekage — Pakura — saw relief. With Konoha drawing the Stone's attention, pressure on the Sand eased considerably. She was, without question, the most supportive of the development.
Previous Great Wars had been stages for the Five Great Villages alone. This one was different.
Somewhere underground, in a space that had never known sunlight.
"Lord Madara! Good news!"
White Zetsu's grinning face emerged from the darkness.
"Speak."
Uchiha Madara opened his eyes.
"Konoha and Iwagakure are at war! And Amegakure's already in the fight — Yahiko and his people wiped out five hundred Stone shinobi just this morning!"
White Zetsu recounted the battle in broad strokes.
"Nagato's strength has developed well." A faint smile crossed Madara's lips.
"Right?! He just waved his hands a few times and — bam — whole squads just gone!"
Madara ignored the theatrics and sank into thought.
This war was precisely the kind of crucible he needed. In his estimation, Nagato's growth had been far too smooth. Without tasting war's agony — without seeing the darkness at the ninja world's core — the boy would never truly mature.
Three names surfaced.
Natsuki. Yahiko. Konan.
The people Nagato cherished most.
Madara weighed his options and settled on Yahiko.
Natsuki was too powerful, too difficult to maneuver against. Konan and Yahiko were comparable in vulnerability, but Yahiko led the Akatsuki. His death would strike deeper.
"Monitor this war closely. Every detail."
"Yes, Lord Madara!"
Night fell.
After a full day's march, Natsuki's force reached the northeastern reaches of the Land of Fire. By tomorrow, they'd cross into the Land of Rain and link up with Yahiko.
"We camp here."
The order propagated through the column. Two Anbu squads — Natsuki's intelligence backbone for this campaign — immediately set to work securing the perimeter.
"Reconnaissance team."
Two young shinobi materialized.
Aburame Shibi and Hyūga Hoheto.
"Hoheto — sweep the camp perimeter, set early-warning traps."
"Yes, Lord Natsuki."
"Shibi — scout the route ahead. I want to know if any Stone shinobi have infiltrated this far south."
"Yes, Lord Natsuki."
A thousand shinobi moved with practiced efficiency. Tents went up. Perimeters were set. Camp took shape in minutes.
As commander, Natsuki didn't pitch his own tent — that was handled for him.
Dinner was cold rations, no open flames. Standard field protocol.
Natsuki stepped into his tent.
Mikoto had already laid out a small table and two bento boxes.
He sat across from her. Where he dropped into a casual sprawl, she settled into formal seiza — legs folded beneath her, ankles turned outward, posture immaculate.
Seiza wasn't comfortable. It was tradition — and for a woman who aspired to be the perfect wife and mother, it was non-negotiable.
Natsuki didn't try to dissuade her. He reached for his chopsticks, picked up a rice ball, and bit into it.
Hot.
"I used Fire Release chakra to warm them," Mikoto explained.
Before spending time around Natsuki, she would never have burned chakra on something so trivial. Proximity had reshaped her priorities.
"Thoughtful."
Her expression softened at the praise.
They finished quickly.
"I need to step out." Natsuki stood. "If anything happens, contact me immediately."
He left an Eyeball Clone with her, opened an Air Door, and stepped into Pakura's living room in the Hidden Sand Village.
The room was empty. But from the bathroom — the faint sound of running water.
The water stopped.
"Who's there?" Pakura's voice, sharp.
"Me."
"...Keep washing?"
"Wait for me a moment."
The water resumed. Ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened.
Natsuki looked.
Pakura walked out wearing nothing but a towel.
It was tucked beneath her arms, leaving her shoulders, collarbones, and the pale sweep of her upper chest completely bare. The damp fabric clung to every curve beneath it, clinging to the swell of her hips and the fullness of her thighs before ending at mid-calf. No shoes. Bare ankles, smooth arches, toes still flushed from the heat.
"Why didn't you get dressed?"
"Don't you like it?"
"I do."
"Thought so."
She crossed the room and sat on the opposite end of the sofa, crossing her legs. The towel slipped, exposing a long stretch of pale thigh.
Natsuki's gaze dropped instinctively — but the fabric held its ground just past the critical line.
He was very curious whether anything existed under that towel besides Pakura.
"Are you in the Land of Rain?" she asked.
"Not yet. Tomorrow."
Water droplets still clung to her skin, tracing slow paths down the column of her neck.
"Why the visit? Coordinating a joint ambush against the Stone?"
"No coordination needed for now." He smiled. "But I'd like you to send Rasa to the Land of Birds."
"You want to deal with him for me?"
"I know you've already gutted most of his influence. But cutting branches doesn't kill the tree." Natsuki leaned back. "Rasa will never give up the Kazekage seat. The moment he finds an opening, he'll come for you."
"True." She nodded. "And with Konoha entering the war, sending a powerhouse to the border is a reasonable precaution. No one would question it."
The Sand-Leaf alliance was ink on paper — nothing more. Outside of Pakura herself, every shinobi in the Hidden Sand considered Konoha an adversary. Some had even proposed a temporary truce with the Stone to eliminate Konoha first.
Konoha drew more hatred than the Stone by a considerable margin.
"Tell Rasa the commander Konoha sent is me. He'll volunteer."
Natsuki's smile was thin, knowing.
He'd captured Rasa alive during the Second Great War. For a man of Rasa's pride, that humiliation was an open wound. The chance at revenge? He'd leap at it.
The plan was partly spontaneous. Removing Pakura's most dangerous internal threat was one objective. The other: unlocking the Aizen template's Kyōka Suigetsu. He'd originally intended to trigger it by killing the Third Mizukage, but that man refused to leave his village. Rasa was Kage-level — he met the condition just as well.
Unlocking Kyōka Suigetsu sooner was strictly better.
"Pity about Karura, though." Pakura shook her head. "Just got pregnant, and now she's going to lose her husband."
Natsuki paused.
Right. Rasa had three children — Temari first, then Kankurō, then Gaara. If Karura was newly pregnant, the child would be Temari. Kill Rasa now, and Kankurō and Gaara would never exist.
"War doesn't leave room for pity."
His expression didn't change. If Rasa were an ally, he could show mercy. But they were enemies. Even if the other two children were born, they'd grow up seeing him as the man who killed their father.
There was nothing more to say.
"Anything else?" Pakura asked. Despite her sympathy for Karura, she had no intention of sparing Rasa. She still remembered him and Reki hunting her down — that debt remained unpaid.
"That's everything."
"Then are you staying tonight?"
Her tone was calm. Even. As though she'd asked whether he wanted tea.
Natsuki stared for a beat.
But walking away now would make him something less than a man.
"Go ahead. I'll use the shower and meet you there."
Pakura stood and walked toward her bedroom. The door closed behind her.
Only then did her composure crack.
A long, shaking exhale. The towel rose and fell with her quickened breathing.
Natsuki showered, dried off, and stopped outside her door.
He pushed it open.
Pakura sat on the edge of the bed, bare, watching him.
Moonlight fell across her skin — pale, luminous, almost otherworldly. But the look in her eyes had nothing to do with innocence.
"Turn over."
She complied without a word, lying face-down across the sheets.
Natsuki ran his palm over the curve of her ass — firm, full, yielding under pressure — then bent forward, pressing his chest against her back.
Looking down past her shoulder, he traced the long, smooth plane of her spine. Flawless.
The muscles in her back tensed beneath him.
He lowered his mouth to the space between her shoulder blades and kissed — slow, deliberate, trailing down the ridge of her spine.
Pakura's eyes closed. Her mind emptied.
She stopped thinking and let go — welcoming, at last, the start of something new.
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