"Hah! To think that in this new era, people still remember this old fossil!"
Ikki let out a booming laugh. But as his grin widened, the grip on Huoguang's throat tightened instinctively. The Jōnin's face turned a violent shade of purple, his legs kicking feebly as he teetered on the brink of suffocation.
"Your Excellency single-handedly brought the Warring States to an end," Kitsuchi said, his voice thick with a mixture of reverence and dread. "You were the pinnacle of the Three Sovereigns. Time may march on, but a legend like 'Iron Fist' Ikki is not so easily forgotten."
Though Kitsuchi had suspected the truth, hearing the man admit it sent a jolt of electricity through his nerves. He was standing before a ghost—a man who had once cast a shadow long enough to eclipse both the 'God of Shinobi' and the 'Uchiha Shura.'
"Kitsuchi, kid, save the flattery," Ikki said, his eyes narrowing as he saw right through the younger man's stalling tactics. "My offer hasn't changed. Go back the way you came, or don't go back at all."
"Lord Ikki..." Kitsuchi hesitated, his mind racing. "Has a hero of your stature truly been reduced to a pawn? Are you really willing to bleed for a man like Sarutobi Hiruzen?"
"The Senju brothers and Uchiha Madara couldn't make me bend a knee; you think a man like Hiruzen could?" Ikki scoffed, the sound like grinding stones. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not here for him. Now, choose. Do I have to show you why they call me the Iron Fist, or are you leaving?"
Ikki's presence was suffocating. He had come out of retirement for one reason: Tsunade. He had lived off the Senju's hospitality for decades, and he wasn't about to let their last living legacy be snuffed out while he was on the clock. Since Hiruzen had come to his doorstep practically begging, Ikki couldn't exactly claim he hadn't heard the news.
"Since Lord Ikki has given his word, this junior naturally dares not refuse," Kitsuchi said, his face pale.
He had never seen Ikki fight, but the stories his father, Ohnoki, told were etched into his soul. One story in particular stood out: the time Ikki had treated the Tailed Beasts like common household pets. Kitsuchi couldn't even fathom the power required to treat the Nine-Tails like a stray cat.
"Lord Kitsuchi, wait!" Jushi, the deputy commander, grabbed Kitsuchi's arm and whispered urgently. "Look at him!"
Kitsuchi followed Jushi's gaze. Ikki's head had slumped forward, his chin resting on his massive chest. A soft, rhythmic snore escaped him. Even while holding a high-ranking Jōnin by the throat, the old man had fallen fast asleep.
"He's ancient, my Lord," Jushi hissed, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous ambition. "He's a relic of a dead age, nodding off in the middle of a battlefield! Think of the glory. If the Iwa shinobi are the ones to finally kill the 'Iron Fist,' Konoha's spirit will be broken forever. He's just an old man with his guard down!"
The surrounding Iwa ninja felt a surge of lethal temptation. The chance to slay a living legend was a lure no shinobi could easily ignore.
"Lord Kitsuchi, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"
"He's asleep! A single shuriken could end the myth right now!"
"The era of the 'Three Sovereigns' should have stayed buried!"
Kitsuchi frowned, a nagging memory clawing at the back of his mind. He'd heard a story about this—something about Ikki's peculiar sleeping habits—but he couldn't quite pin it down.
"Earth Style: Earth Dragon Spear!"
The move was sudden. Huoguang, still dangling in Ikki's grip, managed to weave a one-handed seal. A jagged spike of rock erupted from the earth, aiming straight for Ikki's heart.
"No! Don't touch him!" Kitsuchi screamed as the memory finally snapped into focus.
It was a trap. A legendary, bone-shattering trap.
Decades ago, Uchiha Izuna—Madara's brother and a master of the Mangekyō Sharingan—had attempted the exact same thing. He had tried to assassinate a napping Ikki. The result? Izuna didn't just fail; he was hammered into the earth so hard that both his arms were reduced to splinters. Madara himself had to burn through his ocular powers just to retreat with his brother's broken body, and even then, Izuna was bedridden for weeks.
In the Sengoku era, there was one golden rule: Never wake the sleeping giant.
But it was too late. Seeing Huoguang strike, Jushi and a hundred other Rock Shinobi unleashed their chakra in unison.
"Earth Style: Earth Dragon Spear!"
A forest of stone lances converged on the motionless giant, the sound of tearing earth drowning out Kitsuchi's frantic warning.