Chapter 412: Target: The Capital of the Land of Fire; Assassinate the Daimyo
"It worked!"
Shimada Murai screamed, his voice cracking with raw adrenaline. "It's really sealed!"
Seeing their comrade instantly wrapped and neutralized, the remaining four members of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist finally broke. The arrogant illusion of their immortality shattered into pieces. That sickening sense of superiority vanished, instantly replaced by the cold, gripping claws of genuine dread.
"Damn it!"
"That green monster is too fast!"
"Fall back!"
Kuriarare Kushimaru reacted the fastest. Gripping his long, needle-like blade, he spun on his heel and darted toward the dense treeline. As long as they could create distance, use the uneven terrain, and rely on their regenerating bodies to wear the Konoha shinobi down, they still had a chance to turn the tide.
But...
"Trying to run?"
Might Guy landed heavy on the dirt, immediately dropping into a low, coiled sprinter's stance. The ground beneath his feet instantly buckled, the solid earth crumbling into fine dust under the sheer, concentrated pressure of his muscles.
"Since the curtain has risen..." Guy's voice dropped, losing its usual boisterous edge. "Let's finish this in one breath!"
"Burn, youth!"
Might Guy's figure vanished.
There was no blur, no warning. This time, his speed broke the sound barrier, far surpassing his previous strikes. Only a searing green afterimage remained etched in the air, zigzagging across the devastated battlefield like a trapped bolt of lightning.
"Morning Peacock!"
Kuriarare Kushimaru, barely three steps into his retreat, felt a catastrophic impact cave in his spine.
Immediately after, the air ignited. Countless flaming fists, born from the sheer friction of Guy's blindingly fast punches, rained down upon the swordsman in a merciless torrent.
"Ahhh—!"
The scream lasted only half a second. The concussive force and searing heat blasted Kushimaru apart, reducing his Edo Tensei body to a storm of fluttering, burning paper scraps.
Next was Munashi Jinpachi.
He desperately hoisted the Blastsword: Shibuki, intending to detonate the explosive tags lining its edge to force the green beast back.
"Blast—"
Before the syllable could even leave his throat, a size-forty-three boot slammed directly into the center of his face. The sickening crunch of bone was immediately followed by a blinding flurry of rapid, devastating kicks. Munashi Jinpachi was literally kicked to pieces, his body exploding into a cloud of dust and debris before he hit the ground.
Akebino Jinin roared, raising his massive blunt axe to defend himself. He could not even track Might Guy's shadow. A single, devastating punch shattered his guard, caved in his chest, and blew out his back in an explosion of ash.
Finally, Ameyuri Ringo.
She barely had time to raise her twin lightning swords before Guy's heel caught her in the ribs. She was launched across the clearing like a cannonball, her body disintegrating into loose dirt mid-flight from the sheer kinetic force of the blow.
Silence fell over the battlefield.
Only the swirling dust of the Edo Tensei bodies remained, slowly attempting to pull itself back together in the air.
"Kimura!"
Might Guy landed cleanly, striking a dramatic pose with one hand on his hip and the other giving a sharp thumbs-up over his shoulder. "It's up to you!"
"Yes, Senior Might Guy!"
Kimura Taku's face flushed deep red with excitement. He led the sealing squad, sprinting forward with practiced precision.
"Sealing Technique: Cloth Binding!"
Thick strips of white canvas shot outward, wrapping tightly around the regenerating piles of dust.
"I'm not reconciled!"
"Let me out!"
Accompanied by a few muffled, furious roars from the trapped souls, the canvas tightened, locking down completely. The souls and bodies of the legendary Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist were completely sealed away.
The battlefield finally returned to peace.
"Hoo..."
Might Guy exhaled a long, heavy breath and deactivated the Eight Inner Gates. The violent, surging green chakra dissipated into the wind, and his boiling red skin gradually cooled back to its normal tone. Although he had only opened the Sixth Gate, sparing himself the lethal backlash of the final gates, the high-intensity burst still left his lungs burning and his muscles aching.
"We... won..." Shimada Murai stared blankly at the wrapped bundles on the ground, his mind struggling to process the absolute dominance he had just witnessed.
Then, a deafening cheer erupted.
"We won!"
"We survived!"
"Long live Jonin Might Guy!"
The surviving Konoha shinobi rushed forward, swarming Might Guy and Kimura Taku. Guy simply rubbed the back of his head, flashing a blinding, white-toothed smile that practically sparkled in the sunlight.
"This is the power of youth!" Guy declared, giving them another thumbs-up. "As long as you never give up, there is no enemy you cannot defeat!"
...
Far away, in the Land of Rice Fields.
Inside a hidden, damp underground base, dim candlelight flickered against cold stone walls.
Orochimaru stood before a sprawling laboratory table, his pale fingers delicately adjusting several strangely colored test tubes. The bubbling liquids cast eerie, shifting shadows across his serpentine face.
Suddenly, a faint, crisp sound echoed from the wooden shelf beside him.
Crack.
Those were special monitoring talismans, inscribed with blood to track the status of his Edo Tensei pawns. At this exact moment, the specific cluster of talismans representing the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist simultaneously blackened, crumbled, and turned to fine ash.
Orochimaru's precise movements paused.
A cold, dangerous glint flashed across his golden, vertical pupils.
"Wiped out already?"
He set the test tubes down, a long, pale tongue darting out to lick his lips. His face betrayed no shock or anger; instead, a dark, mocking amusement twisted his features.
"Although they were originally just pawns meant to probe the enemy's defenses..." Orochimaru murmured, his voice a raspy hiss. "To be cleaned up before sending back even a single piece of decent intelligence. Truly... a collection of trash."
He shook his head slowly, casually sweeping the pile of ashes off the shelf and into a waste bin. To him, the legendary swordsmen were nothing more than defective scraps he had collected on a whim. If they were gone, they were gone. As long as the Edo Tensei jutsu remained in his grasp, he could mass-produce as many fighters of that caliber as he desired.
"It seems there are still a few capable individuals holding Konoha's front lines." Orochimaru's eyes narrowed slightly. "Might Guy..."
He muttered the name, a rare flicker of apprehension passing through his gaze. That ridiculous green beast, who usually behaved like a mentally unstable fool, was genuinely terrifying when he unleashed his full power.
Turning away from the table, Orochimaru looked into the pitch-black depths of the cavern behind him.
There, resting in the shadows, were several heavier, ornate coffins. Even closed, they exuded a suffocating, terrifying aura that made the air in the room feel heavy.
"But those swordsmen were merely an appetizer." Orochimaru's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Uchiha Akira... I wonder if you can handle this grand gift?"
...
Meanwhile.
High above the official paved road leading directly into the heart of the Land of Fire, two figures cut through the sky at breakneck speed.
One of them rode atop a swirling, dense cloud of Gold Dust. His arms were crossed over his chest, his expression carved from ice. It was Rasa, the Fourth Kazekage.
Floating effortlessly beside him was a man entirely wrapped in white bandages, with only a pair of cold, dead eyes exposed to the wind. He hovered in mid-air without any visible support, his body constantly flickering, phasing in and out of the visible spectrum.
Mū, the Second Tsuchikage.
"Hurry up," Mū's voice grated out, sounding hoarse and muffled through the thick layers of bandages.
Rasa scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he willed the Gold Dust to accelerate.
"Do not order me around," Rasa snapped back. "We may be in a cooperative relationship for this mission, but I am not your subordinate."
Rasa stared down at the rapidly receding forests and rivers of the Land of Fire, a deep, venomous resentment burning in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to march straight to the front lines and seek his vengeance against Uchiha Akira.
But Rasa was not a fool.
Even housed within an immortal Edo Tensei body, charging directly into Konohagakure to challenge Uchiha Akira was tantamount to suicide. He had experienced the absolute, suffocating terror of that man firsthand.
Instead, he had chosen the alternative strategy Orochimaru proposed.
'As long as the Daimyo of the Land of Fire is killed...'Rasa thought, his grip tightening on his own arms.'We sever Konoha's economic lifeline. We cut off their logistical supplies at the root. Even a monster like Uchiha Akira will find himself drowning in a political and financial crisis.'
The thought brought a dark, malicious grin to Rasa's face.
"Throwing Konoha into absolute chaos..." Rasa whispered to the wind. "Consider this my welcome gift to you, Uchiha Akira."
However.
Neither the Kazekage nor the Tsuchikage noticed their surroundings.
Hidden within the dense canopy of the trees below, a murder of black crows sat unnaturally still. Red light flickered faintly within their dark eyes. As the two Kage flew overhead, the scarlet tomoe within the crows' eyes slowly rotated, silently recording every word, every movement, and every trajectory.
...
Inside the Hokage Office in Konohagakure.
Uchiha Akira leaned back comfortably in his high-backed leather chair, casually twirling an expensive fountain pen between his fingers. The room was quiet, save for the faint rustle of paperwork in the breeze.
Suddenly, the air above his mahogany desk warped.
A black crow materialized out of thin air, letting out a soft caw before instantly dissipating into a puff of white smoke.
A small, tightly bound intelligence scroll dropped onto the polished wood.
Akira stopped twirling the pen. He reached out, picked up the scroll, and unrolled it with a flick of his wrist. His dark eyes scanned the encrypted text, absorbing the information in seconds.
"The Fourth Kazekage and the Second Tsuchikage..." Akira murmured, his voice smooth and dangerously calm. "Moving rapidly toward the heartland of the Land of Fire."
He set the scroll down. His index finger began to tap lightly against the desk.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The rhythmic sound echoed in the silent office like a ticking clock.
"They aren't heading to the front lines to support their troops, nor are they marching on Konoha to seek revenge." Akira's lips curved upward, pulling into a cold, mocking smile. "Instead, they bypass the warzone entirely and head straight for the capital."
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his steepled fingers.
"I see. Trying to strike at Konoha's foundation, are we?" Akira chuckled, a dark, hollow sound. "The target is that useless Daimyo, Chiba."
He had to admit, it was a ruthless, deeply annoying tactical maneuver.
Daimyo Chiba was nothing more than a spineless puppet, a figurehead who spent his days drowning in luxury. But politics were politics. If the Daimyo were to be assassinated at this critical juncture, the entire noble class of the Land of Fire would instantly descend into a frenzy of panic, paranoia, and infighting over the succession.
When the nobles panicked, the money stopped flowing. And when the money stopped flowing, the front-line supply chains would inevitably shatter.
It was a brilliant plan to cripple a military superpower without fighting its army.
Unfortunately for them, they were playing against Uchiha Akira.
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