After the meeting ended, everyone filed out of the Hokage Building with nervous energy crackling through the air. Arrangements needed to be made. Plans finalized. Time was running short.
Orochimaru approached Seiran with a dry chuckle. "Congratulations, Seiran."
"Congratulations? What for?"
Seiran rolled his eyes.
"Your physical body has evolved again," Orochimaru said, his gaze sharp and analytical. "Your vitality is far more vigorous than before."
That snake bastard has sharp eyes.
Seiran's inward grumble was immediate. He'd only just upgraded to Level 4 Electromagnetic Manipulation, and Orochimaru had caught it almost instantly. But Seiran wasn't worried anymore. At Level 4, he knew with certainty that no one in Konoha was stronger than him.
"Lord Orochimaru, you're heading to the Sunagakure battlefield soon as commander-in-chief," Seiran said smoothly. "I hope you'll keep an eye on me out there."
Orochimaru smiled. "Of course. I'm also curious to see how the new Fourth Kazekage, Rasa, compares."
Seiran's expression twisted into something strange. His "good brother" Rasa was probably turning the world upside down searching for him right now. If Rasa discovered the person camped with Konoha's forces was right here, wouldn't he be so furious he'd cough up blood?
Seiran didn't linger. He offered a quick farewell and left.
Behind him, Orochimaru watched his retreating back with a deep, thoughtful frown.
"Seiran has changed," he murmured to himself.
In the past, even though Seiran hadn't feared him, there had always been a thread of wariness woven into their interactions. That wariness was gone now—completely absent from both word and deed. Seiran was casual. Unguarded.
That was the most frightening thing of all.
Had a simple physical evolution really granted him such overwhelming confidence?
---
Seiran returned home and realized war preparations needed to be made. The atmosphere in Konoha was suffocating. Streets sat nearly empty, and members of the Hyuga Clan rushed past with arms full of supplies.
Seiran considered it for a moment.
Then he covered himself with a quilt and took a nap.
It wasn't apathy—there simply wasn't much to prepare for. His abilities had evolved to the nano-level. With a clap of his hands, he could manifest whatever he needed. War preparations seemed pointless. Better to recharge his spirit instead.
The night before, he'd marched with the troops without stopping. Even Level 4 physical enhancement couldn't replace sleep. Taking the opportunity to rest and replenish his mental energy was the priority.
A knock came at the door shortly after he woke.
A ninja messenger from Minato Namikaze stood waiting. The main army had assembled and was ready to depart.
---
At Konoha's entrance, Seiran saw the assembled ninja force. Only a few thousand strong, yet their momentum suggested tens of thousands. Konoha boasted just over ten thousand registered shinobi—most low-level, yes, but the largest force among the five great villages. The title of "biggest village" wasn't mere legend.
As Seiran took his position, a familiar figure waved at him from the crowd.
"Seiran!"
"Anko. You look... different."
Seiran smiled. With Orochimaru commanding this force, it made sense she'd be here.
Next to her, Rin Uchiha stood with arms crossed, an arrogant expression locked on her face.
"You're late again, Seiran!"
"Sorry, I overslept," Seiran scratched his head, embarrassed.
The ninjas around them froze. Their eyes widened.
Overslept?
Is this a joke?
This is war, not a spring outing. How can you sleep at a time like this?
Rin lowered her head slightly, exhaling with helpless resignation. She was used to Seiran's antics by now.
"Anyway, this is the first reunion of our Team 3," Seiran said, a touch of melancholy in his voice. They hadn't been together much since their last assignment.
"Yeah! It's a pity Shibi Aburame is still with the Intelligence Division," Anko nodded with a smile. "Otherwise our Team 3 would be complete."
After the pleasantries, the large army began to march. They moved toward the battlefield in several formations. Seiran realized he was in the first wave, led by Orochimaru himself. Behind them, a second formation followed—Tsunade's medical support unit.
Sunagakure had chosen wisely. They'd picked a battlefield near the Land of Rain specifically because Wind Release would be countered by Konoha's Fire Release in direct elemental combat. High humidity would weaken fire techniques significantly. Konoha's elemental advantages might not be obvious here. Both sides knew the game. Konoha had no choice but to accept.
As the army advanced, they gradually left the Land of Fire behind. In the distance, the Land of Rain loomed—perpetually shrouded in dark clouds. The scenery seemed to grow heavier with each step: gloomy, dark, weeping. A country that never escaped war. During the Second Shinobi World War, three great villages had fought within its borders simultaneously. The land's suffering had produced a legend: Hanzo of the Rain ninja village—the demigod who'd bestowed the title of the Three Shinobi.
Orochimaru slowed his pace, melancholy crossing his features as he gazed at the weeping country. His mind drifted back years—to when he'd first become a shinobi, fighting Hanzo alongside Jiraiya and Tsunade.
They had been invincible then.
Hanzo hadn't finished them. Instead, he'd given them a name—the Three Shinobi. As they grew, that name resounded across the shinobi world. Even now, the title carried weight, power, and the shadow of Hanzo behind it.
Seiran looked out at the perpetually rainy country and suddenly sighed.
"With so much rain, it's perfect for growing rice."
Silence.
His incongruous words drew every eye toward him. Growing rice? What was he talking about?
"It's a shame services is so good. I'll have to order delivery myself and carry it up," Seiran muttered, pouting.
No one understood. Rin's mouth twitched slightly. She thought she could follow his train of thought, but this time she was lost. Rice planting? Home delivery? Was he planning to go into business after the war?
She was seriously considering whether to fund his startup.
Seiran certainly didn't know what she was thinking. He frowned, genuinely lost in thought. The Third Shinobi World War was a turning point—the beginning of something far larger. It would mark the rise of Nagato Uzumaki, who would spend every day fighting for what he believed in.
Seiran's fingers drummed against his thigh as a thought occurred to him.
Should I cut off his rice supply in advance?