As night fell, Ayane took the first watch, perched high in the branches outside the hollowed-out tree that served as their safe house.
She sat cross-legged, emptying her mind of all distractions.
Using the meditation technique Principal Ichii had taught her, she rested Arashikiri across her lap and engaged in blade zen.
After practicing this method continuously over the past few days, she had gradually begun to grasp the true essence of this training through trial and error.
Rather than saying that blade zen was about mentally communicating with the physical weapon in her hands, it was far more accurate to describe it as a discipline to refine her spiritual fortitude and explore the elusive concept of a “ninja way.” More importantly, once she slipped into this pseudo-flow state, she was perfectly capable of actively cultivating Achievement Points while simultaneously maintaining her vigil over the perimeter without missing a beat.
It was easily one of the most efficient methods to grind for points outside of actual combat.
However, she was completely unaware of the legendary event unfolding dozens of miles away.
On a rain-slicked, sloping ridge far from her position, a devastating battle had finally reached its conclusion.
“It seems…
Konoha has ultimately won this war.” Standing atop a colossal, mountain-sized salamander, Hanzo, wearing his signature respirator mask, quietly looked down at the three young shinobi gasping for air at his feet.
Jiraiya and Tsunade were leaning heavily on each other, panting raggedly, their chests heaving with exhaustion.
Standing beside them, Orochimaru’s pale face was freezing cold, his serpent-like eyes still flashing with lingering disbelief.
Just moments ago, Orochimaru had seized a once-in-a-lifetime opening, perfectly executing his Hidden Shadow Snake Hands to bind their opponent.
Yet Hanzo had effortlessly shattered the restraints through pure physical force, executing a flawless Body Flicker to simultaneously evade Tsunade’s bone-crushing Heavenly Foot of Pain and Jiraiya’s Needle Jizo barrage.
And he hadn’t just dodged—he had executed the Body Flicker while carrying his gargantuan summoning beast, Ibuse, right along with him!
‘A Body Flicker of that magnitude…
it borders on the realm of mythical Space-Time Ninjutsu!’ Orochimaru thought, gritting his teeth.
‘Is this the true power of the Demigod of the Shinobi World?’ ‘To think…
I am still so incredibly far from reaching the true pinnacle of a shinobi…’ The sheer shock reverberating through Orochimaru’s heart was beyond words.
Naturally, being young and inexperienced, he had no idea that the title of “Demigod” didn’t actually represent the absolute ceiling of what a shinobi could achieve.
Perched high atop the salamander’s head, Hanzo continued to gaze down at them with an aura of absolute supremacy.
“You three young ones are quite formidable.
To actually survive a battle of this caliber against me…” “As expected of the disciples of the Third Hokage.” Hanzo’s eyelids drooped slightly.
His voice carried the arrogant, absolute authority of a sovereign delivering a final judgment.
“To be able to hold your ground against me for this long…
I, Hanzo, acknowledge your strength!” “Cut the crap!
Who the hell needs your acknowledgment?!” Feeling thoroughly patronized, Jiraiya exploded in anger.
Gritting his teeth, he forcefully pushed himself to his feet, ready to fight to the death.
“Continuing this battle serves absolutely no purpose,” Hanzo stated calmly, entirely unfazed by the young man’s furious outburst.
He gripped his chain-sickle tightly, casting a brief glance at the broken corpses of his elite Anbu guards scattered across the blasted ridge behind him.
“Let us end this here.
Konoha’s forces will withdraw east of the Anyue River.
In exchange, Amegakure will formally abandon its eastern expansion and swear never to violate the borders of the Land of Fire again.” Orochimaru let out a low, hissing chuckle, a sound filled with dripping mockery at the Demigod’s sudden naivety.
Once the bloody gears of war have started turning, do you honestly believe you can halt them with a single sentence?
Hanzo, oh Hanzo…
you are far too idealistic!
Even though his body was completely battered and every cell in his muscles screamed in exhaustion…
Orochimaru still tilted his head up, straightening his spine to look the Demigod dead in the eye.
He smiled with a chilling, unapologetic arrogance.
“Lord Hanzo…
am I to interpret this as a roundabout plea for a truce with Konoha?” Hanzo’s grip on his kusarigama tightened, his voice booming with authority, “It is not a plea for a truce.
It is a notification!” “Then I must apologize.
Please forgive my refusal to accept such an unreasonable demand.” Orochimaru’s demeanor was the perfect blend of polite formality and lethal arrogance.
“Although Amegakure was the one who initially ignited the flames of this war…
it is highly unfortunate for you that you do not possess the authority to extinguish them.” He flicked his long tongue, licking his cracked lips, before flashing a sickeningly pale smile that bared his teeth.
“Someone must pay the price for the blood spilled in this war.” Hanzo fell silent.
He stared deeply into the long-haired shinobi’s eyes before suddenly asking, “Are you the designated successor chosen by the Third Hokage?
I seem to recall that the next in line for the Hokage seat was supposed to be Danzo.” “Heh~” “Such clumsy attempts to sow discord are beneath a man of your stature.” “My master is currently in the prime of his life.
There is absolutely no need for him to consider grooming a successor just yet,” Orochimaru replied smoothly, his tone suggesting he held absolutely zero interest in the Hokage title.
“However…
regarding the tactical command of the war against Amegakure, my voice does carry absolute authority.” The underlying implication was glaringly clear: I am the Supreme Commander of the Rain invasion front!
“Very well…” Hanzo slowly raised his chain-sickle, taking a deep, heavy breath.
“Since Konoha refuses to withdraw its troops and genuinely believes it has the jaw strength to swallow the Land of Rain whole…
let us wait and see.” “However…
I have no desire to see the three of you on the battlefield ever again.” He issued a direct ultimatum.
“Furthermore, as an equal condition, I will no longer personally intervene or raise my blade against the rank-and-file shinobi of Konoha.” So it’s a battle of pure logistics and military strength from here on out…
Orochimaru instantly deduced the strategic implications of Hanzo’s proposal.
He didn’t entirely understand where Hanzo’s unshakeable confidence stemmed from, so he subtly shifted his gaze toward his two teammates, silently prompting them to weigh in.
However, the sight that met his eyes made his eyelid twitch violently.
Tsunade’s hands were glowing with the brilliant green light of the Mystical Palm Jutsu as she meticulously treated the horrific burns Jiraiya had sustained from Hanzo’s Fire Style.
And Jiraiya?
He wore an expression of absolute, blissful intoxication.
He looked as though he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a tiny ball and nuzzle helplessly into her chest like a frightened little bird…
Dark lines practically materialized over Orochimaru’s head.
Seriously…
these two are impossibly unreliable!
“I accept your terms,” Orochimaru stated after a brief moment of rapid calculation, nodding his head.
“To trade three entirely ordinary Jonin to completely sideline the Demigod of the Shinobi World from the battlefield…
Konoha profits immensely from this transaction.” He deliberately threw Hanzo’s previous attempt at sowing discord right back in his face, subtly mocking the title of “Demigod” as an exaggerated sham.
But Hanzo completely ignored the venomous subtext hidden in the young man’s words.
“Three ordinary Jonin…?” His gaze swept over the three battered youths one by one.
He named them slowly, etching them into the annals of history: “The Supreme Commander of the frontlines, Orochimaru.
The Princess of Konoha, Lady Tsunade.
And…
some nameless, white-haired toad…” Jiraiya, who had just been happily playing the role of a wounded bird, instantly erupted in fury.
Stomping his feet, he roared, “The name is Jiraiya!
Hanzo of the Salamander, etch that name into your skull!” “I, Hanzo, shall formally name the three of you the Sannin of Konoha!” Completely ignoring Jiraiya’s outburst, Hanzo continued in an incredibly arrogant, booming voice: “Burn that title into your memories!” “Remember this honor—an honor you earned today by putting your very lives on the line.” The cloaked man wielding the chain-sickle finally turned his back on them, his voice echoing across the rainy ridge with absolute pride.
“I am certain that from this day forward…
the shinobi of future generations will revere the title of the Sannin as a brand new legend!” A violent crack of thunder tore through the sky.
As a jagged bolt of lightning illuminated the darkness, Hanzo executed a flawless Body Flicker, vanishing entirely from their sight without a single trace.
The colossal salamander, Ibuse, simultaneously sank into the mud, disappearing deep into the earth.
The three young shinobi were left standing alone on the shattered ridge.
“I guess…
we officially accomplished the objective the old man gave us, didn’t we?” Tsunade collapsed heavily to the ground, utterly drained.
She yanked Jiraiya down beside her, immediately issuing strict medical orders: “Your burns are severe.
You need to rest properly for the next few days.
Good thing Orochimaru agreed to Hanzo’s terms; you won’t need to fight for a while.” Hanzo’s mastery over Fire and Water Style was truly terrifying.
In the original timeline, the entire reason Nagato was permanently confined to a specialized walker wheelchair was because Hanzo had obliterated his legs using the Fire Style: Exploding Flame Formation.
And just now, in a desperate bid to shield Tsunade from a lethal blast, Jiraiya had used his Needle Jizo hair to tank several point-blank Fire Style jutsu, nearly suffering horrific tenth-degree burns in the process…
“Hah?
You think I’m scared of him?!
Even if Orochimaru hadn’t agreed to the terms, it wouldn’t matter!
I could’ve gone another round with him right now!” In front of Tsunade, Jiraiya refused to show an ounce of weakness, no matter how agonizing the pain was.
Puffing out his chest with an exaggerated display of overwhelming masculine bravado, his expression was so incredibly solemn and heroic he looked as if he were standing atop the Hokage Monument preparing to be sworn in.
But in Orochimaru’s eyes, he just looked like the biggest idiot on the planet…
This battle had been unspeakably grueling.
The towering ambitions and sheer arrogance the three of them had carried when they first deployed had been violently shattered by a single man wielding a chain-sickle.
“As expected of the Demigod of the Shinobi World…
Hanzo is a truly terrifying adversary,” Tsunade whispered after a long, heavy silence.
“It’s hard to believe such a pathetic, minor nation could give birth to a powerhouse of his caliber…” “It doesn’t matter.
Hanzo is the final miracle this wretched land will ever produce.” Orochimaru stared down at the bloody mud beneath his feet, his voice chillingly cold.
“From this day forward…
the Land of Rain will never stand up again.”