Chapter 413: Waiting for the Prey to Spring the Trap
"What a pity."
Uchiha Akira's voice was a low, mocking murmur in the quiet of the Hokage's office. "Your wishful thinking is almost deafening."
He stood up, his chair scraping softly against the polished wooden floorboards. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the intelligence scroll into a nearby wastebasket. It landed with a dull thud.
"Tsunade."
Across the room, Tsunade paused. She was surrounded by towering stacks of mission reports and administrative ledgers. Looking up, she brushed a stray blonde strand from her face, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"What is it now?" she asked, her tone carrying the distinct edge of someone who had been doing paperwork for far too long.
"I need to step out for a bit." Akira calmly smoothed the creases of his dark robes, his expression unreadable. "I am leaving the rest of this to you."
Tsunade's amber eyes widened. The confusion instantly morphed into rising irritation. She slammed a heavy ledger onto the desk. "Where are you running off to this time? These documents haven't even been—"
The air in the center of the room twisted. A spiraling vortex of spatial distortion swallowed the space where Akira stood. Before Tsunade could even finish her reprimand, his tall figure vanished into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a faint breeze that fluttered the loose papers on her desk.
Miles away, nestled in the heart of the Land of Fire, the Capital thrived.
It was the undisputed center of prosperity for the entire nation. Unlike the austere, militaristic atmosphere of Konoha, the Capital was a sprawling monument to extravagance. The streets were lined with vibrant silk banners, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and roasted meats.
At the very pinnacle of this decadence sat the Daimyo's Residence, a magnificent palace of gold leaf and polished mahogany.
Inside the grand main hall, the air was warm and heavy with sweet incense. Chiba, the current Daimyo of the Land of Fire, reclined lazily on a plush velvet couch. He held a delicate porcelain cup filled with premium sake, his half-lidded eyes hungrily tracking the fluid movements of the silk-clad singing girls dancing before him.
Then, without a single warning, the space in the dead center of the hall warped.
A violent, spiraling vortex tore through the tranquil atmosphere.
Clatter.
The porcelain cup slipped from Chiba's trembling fingers, shattering against the polished wooden floor. Expensive sake pooled around the ceramic shards, but the Daimyo did not even blink at the mess.
A suffocating, icy pressure crashed down upon the room.
Chiba rolled off the velvet couch, his limbs flailing as if he had been struck by lightning. He hit the floor hard, scrambling onto his knees, and slammed his forehead against the floorboards. He knew that terrifying, powerful aura all too well.
"W-Welcome, Hokage-sama!" Chiba stammered, his voice cracking in sheer panic.
The surrounding elite guards and maids froze. Seeing their supreme ruler groveling like a beaten dog, the color drained from their faces. In unison, they dropped to their knees, pressing their faces to the floor in trembling submission.
The spatial vortex slowly dissipated, revealing Uchiha Akira.
He stood amidst the opulent splendor of the grand hall, his dark eyes sweeping over the gold-trimmed pillars and terrified servants. A flicker of absolute indifference crossed his sharp features.
"Get up."
The command was softly spoken, yet it echoed with obvious authority. Akira did not wait for a response. He bypassed the kneeling Daimyo and walked straight toward the elevated main seat—the throne that rightfully belonged to the ruler of the country. He sat down, leaning back with the casual dominance of a king claiming his rightful place.
Only then did Chiba dare to lift his head.
He hurriedly wiped the cold sweat beading on his forehead with his silk sleeve. Cautiously, he shuffled forward on his knees, forcing a painfully stiff, fawning smile onto his pale face.
"Hokage-sama, you... what brings you here in person?" Chiba asked, his voice trembling. "If there was something you required, a simple missive would have sufficed! This humble servant would have immediately—"
Akira raised a single hand.
The gesture instantly choked the nonsense in Chiba's throat.
"It is nothing of grand importance," Akira said, his tone dangerously calm. "Just two old geezers who want to borrow your head for a bit."
The remaining color vanished from Chiba's face. He looked as though he had been dunked in ice water.
"B-Borrow... my head?"
"Hokage-sama! Please, save me!" Chiba shrieked, throwing himself forward until he was practically kissing the toes of Akira's boots. Tears and snot streamed down his face, ruining his powdered complexion. "This humble servant is entirely loyal to you! I do not want to die!"
Akira stared down at the spineless puppet weeping at his feet. A deep sense of disgust flashed in his dark eyes.
He raised his foot and kicked the Daimyo squarely in the chest.
Chiba yelped, rolling backward across the floor like a discarded ragdoll.
"Shut up," Akira commanded, his voice dropping to a freezing register. "What are you panicking for? As long as I am sitting here, it will be very difficult for you to die, even if you wanted to."
Chiba clutched his bruised chest, gasping for air. But the sheer arrogance in Akira's words acted like a miraculous sedative. The terror gripping his heart loosened. He scrambled back up, ignoring his disheveled robes, and began kowtowing repeatedly.
"Yes! Yes, of course!" Chiba babbled, a hysterical laugh escaping his lips. "With Hokage-sama here, this humble servant has nothing to fear! Hokage-sama's divine power is absolute! Those petty scoundrels will march to their own graves!"
Akira closed his eyes, completely tuning out the pathetic flattery. He rested his chin on his knuckles.
"Prepare your finest food and wine," Akira ordered, not bothering to open his eyes. "I will be staying here for the day."
Chiba's eyes lit up with desperate joy. This was the perfect opportunity to curry favor with the true master of the Land of Fire.
"At once! This humble servant will see to it personally!"
Energized by the promise of survival, Chiba scrambled to his feet, barking frantic orders at his terrified maids and guards.
For the rest of the day, Akira treated the Daimyo's luxurious palace as his own private backyard. He enjoyed the absolute highest echelon of hospitality the Capital had to offer. Chiba hovered at his side constantly, pouring tea and serving delicacies, acting more attentive and subservient than the lowest slave.
A day passed in the blink of an eye.
The following afternoon arrived with brilliant, dazzling sunlight. Down in the Capital's bustling streets, the vibrant cries of merchants and the carefree laughter of nobles intertwined, painting a perfect picture of prosperous peace.
However, several kilometers outside the city walls, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Atop a rugged, unassuming hill, two figures stood looking down at the sprawling metropolis. A chilling, deathly aura radiated from their bodies, wilting the grass beneath their feet.
"How prosperous..."
Rasa, the Fourth Kazekage, stood at the edge of the cliff with his arms crossed over his chest. The distant, sunlit roofs of the Daimyo's Residence reflected in his gray-brown sclera—the unmistakable mark of the Edo Tensei.
There was no admiration in his gaze. Only a suffocating, bitter killing intent.
"So this is the Daimyo's Residence of the Land of Fire," Rasa murmured, his hoarse voice trembling with a deep-seated, venomous jealousy. "Compared to the barren, howling wastelands of the Land of Wind, this place is nothing short of paradise."
Beside him floated the Second Tsuchikage, Mu. Wrapped entirely in white bandages from head to toe, he hovered half a foot above the rocky terrain, completely weightless.
"Cease your senseless muttering, Kazekage," Mu said, his muffled voice devoid of emotion. "Since we have arrived, let us commence the operation. According to the plan, we are to obliterate the Daimyo's Residence and eliminate that puppet ruler."
Rasa let out a cold, mocking sneer.
"I am well aware."
He slowly uncrossed his arms, extending his hands outward with his palms facing the distant Capital.
"You do not need to remind me," Rasa growled, his chakra flaring to life. "I have been waiting for this. I cannot wait to deliver this magnificent gift to Uchiha Akira."
As Rasa channeled his immense chakra, the very earth began to groan.
The ground beneath them trembled violently. The ordinary soil and rock covering the hill's surface began to mysteriously break down, decomposing and reassembling at a molecular level.
Countless specks of brilliant gold seeped up from the deep underground veins.
With a low, guttural roar from Rasa, a massive geyser of Gold Dust erupted into the sky. The heavy, metallic sand swirled and gathered high above his head, rapidly expanding into a colossal, glittering cloud that blotted out the afternoon sun.
"I will use this sky-filling Gold Dust to bury that gaudy palace, along with every single soul inside it..."
Rasa's eyes widened, his killing intent peaking. "Completely!"
Once this devastating attack descended, its terrifying weight and sheer density would be more than enough to instantly flatten the Daimyo's Residence several kilometers away. It would crush the grand halls into a thin, bloody pancake.
Not a single living creature would survive.
Rasa slammed his arms downward in a vicious arc.
The enormous sea of Gold Dust in the sky let out a deafening, muffled roar. It began to slowly press forward, moving toward the Capital like a collapsing golden firmament.
Beside him, Mu was not idle. Though the primary assault was Rasa's responsibility, the Second Tsuchikage was already secretly molding his chakra. A blinding white light began to gather between his bandaged palms, preparing a devastating Dust Release as a secondary measure to ensure absolute annihilation.
However.
Just as the vast ocean of Gold Dust began to surge forward, before it could even cross the first kilometer of open air...
A sudden, chilling distortion warped the space ahead.
A tall, slender figure abruptly materialized in mid-air, floating effortlessly a mere hundred meters in front of the two reanimated Kage.
Rasa's pupils shrank to pinpricks. An involuntary gasp escaped his throat as he recognized the man.
Mu's invisible brow furrowed deeply beneath his bandages. His previously ethereal, floating form instantly solidified, sinking slightly as he locked his vigilant, glowing eyes onto the man who had just appeared out of thin air.
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