Chapter 508: The Elders of Kumogakure Plot a Coup
Land of Lightning, Kumogakure.
At this time, the atmosphere in the village was suffocatingly oppressive.
The news of the Allied Shinobi Forces' defeat and the capture of the Fourth Raikage hit like a heavy sledgehammer, smashing down hard on this village that worshipped absolute martial strength.
Although Darui, stepping up as the Acting Raikage, was doing everything in his power to maintain order, panic and suppressed anger were still growing wildly in the shadows.
On the west side of the village, inside a heavily guarded manor.
"Bastard!!"
Elder Raizo slammed his palm against the solid oak table beside him. The wood groaned under the force as his chest heaved violently, his weathered face twisted into a snarl of pure rage.
"Darui, that spineless coward!!"
"He actually wants to surrender?!"
"He wants to hand over the very foundation that generations of our ancestors bled for, serving Kumogakure to Konoha on a silver platter!"
Raizo's roar echoed off the stone walls of the secret room.
Sitting across from him were seven or eight other elders, all well past their half-century mark. They were the most stubborn remnants of Kumogakure's radical War Faction. In their cloudy eyes, the glory of the village eclipsed all else; even if they were to fall, it should be on the battlefield, charging forward.
"Elder Raizo is absolutely right!" a one-eyed elder rasped, his expression grim. "In Kumogakure, we only have shinobi who die in glorious combat! We do not breed cowards who kneel!"
"Even if Konoha is strong, can they truly slaughter every last one of us?"
"Exactly!" another elder chimed in, his voice dripping with venom. "That old fossil Dodai is going senile! He actually stood up for Darui today, spouting nonsense about preserving the village's sparks..."
"I say he's just terrified of the grave! Want us to bow and scrape like dogs to Konoha? Over my dead body!!"
Most of these men had sat comfortably in high-ranking administrative seats for decades. They had long since forgotten the iron tang of a real battlefield. More, they had not witnessed the demonic, god-like devastation of Uchiha Akira firsthand, nor had they felt that soul-crushing despair.
In their outdated minds, ninja warfare was still a simple arithmetic of troop numbers and tactical terrain. Kumogakure still boasted tens of thousands of active shinobi and a mountainous geography that was a nightmare to invade. Why on earth should they surrender?
"Everyone." Raizo took a deep, ragged breath, forcibly reigning in his temper. His sharp gaze swept across the dim room, meeting the eyes of his peers.
"Darui has lost his nerve. He is entirely unfit to lead Kumogakure through this crisis. We must take decisive action."
"Tomorrow morning, we launch a coup. We strip Darui of his command!"
"Then we will mobilize every last force in the village and fight Konoha to the bitter end!!"
Hearing the word coup, the breathing of everyone in the room quickened. Yet, in the eyes of these old men, there was not a shred of hesitation. Instead, the fanatical gleam of zealots flickered in the dim light.
"Agreed!"
"Seconded!"
"We should have stripped that boy of his rank the moment he suggested peace!"
Just as their blood boiled with righteous fervor, lost in delusions of leading Kumogakure to a triumphant revival, a slow, mocking voice echoed from the darkest corner of the room.
"What a truly touching display of patriotism."
"Unfortunately..."
"With just you bunch of old, weak, sick, and decrepit fools, I'm afraid your grand charge will only end with you turning into a pile of useless corpses."
"Who's there?!" Raizo whipped around, roaring into the shadows.
His chakra flared instantly, crackling arcs of blue lightning surging around his aged body. Every eye in the room snapped to the corner.
The air itself began to twist. Space distorted in a sickening, eerie spiral, pulling inward like a vortex. From the center of that spatial anomaly, a man wearing an orange spiral mask slowly stepped into the light.
It was Uchiha Obito.
He stood casually, arms crossed over his chest, his single visible eye looking down on the startled elders as if they were nothing more than frightened poultry.
"Who are you?" Raizo's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
How did this intruder bypass the manor's heavy sensory barriers? How did he break into this sealed room without making a sound?
"Who I am is entirely irrelevant," Obito replied, his tone utterly bored. "What matters is that I am here to help you."
"Help us?" Raizo sneered, his hand subtly gesturing to the deep shadows behind his chair. "A rat hiding his face behind a mask thinks he has the right to offer us help? Take him down!!"
Before the elder's shout even faded, the shadows ruptured.
A black-clad figure shot forward with explosive speed. This was Raizo's personal guard, an elite assassin whose strength rivaled that of a Jonin. The strike was a masterclass in lethal efficiency: fast, silent, and devoid of any wasted movement. A kunai aimed perfectly at the intruder's throat.
Facing the fatal thrust, Obito didn't even flinch. He stood perfectly still, hands still casually crossed, as if paralyzed by fear.
A flash of cruel triumph crossed the guard's eyes as his blade struck home.
However, the expected spray of blood never came.
There was no resistance. No tearing of flesh. The razor-sharp kunai phased directly through Obito's neck as if slicing through empty air. The guard's momentum carried his arm, his torso, and his entire body straight through the masked man's figure, plunging into empty space.
The elite guard's eyes widened in sheer horror. What kind of ninjutsu was this?
Unable to halt his forward momentum immediately, the guard stumbled. In that split second, Obito casually turned around. His previously phantom-like body solidified in an instant.
A gloved hand shot out like an iron vice, clamping brutally around the guard's throat and hoisting him off the floor.
"Overconfident fool," Obito murmured coldly.
Within the dark hole of his mask, a crimson light flared. The three tomoe of his Sharingan spun wildly.
Genjutsu: Sharingan.
"Ugh..." The guard's thrashing body went rigid. The fierce killing intent in his eyes vanished, replaced instantly by a dull, hollow void.
Obito casually tossed the elite Jonin aside like a discarded rag. The guard landed on his feet, walked obediently to the corner of the room like a trained dog, and stood facing the wall, utterly motionless.
The secret room plunged into a dead silence. The elders stared at Obito, their mouths agape, looking at him as if he were a demon crawled straight out of the underworld.
A single exchange. Not only had he completely ignored a lethal physical strike, but he had effortlessly enslaved an elite Jonin with a single glance.
"A Sharingan..." Raizo stared fixedly at the crimson eye glowing behind the mask, his throat suddenly parched. "Are you... a member of the Uchiha clan?"
A terrifying thought struck the elder, making his blood run cold. "Did Uchiha Akira send you to assassinate us?"
If Akira had truly dispatched an assassin of this caliber, they were all dead men walking.
"Uchiha Akira?" Obito scoffed, the name dripping with raw malice. "No. I wasn't sent by him to silence you."
He took a slow, deliberate step toward the conference table. "On the contrary, I am Uchiha Akira's enemy."
Stopping at the edge of the light, Obito looked down at the wary, sweating Raizo.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Just like you, I want Uchiha Akira dead. And I want to see Konoha burned to the ground."
He spread his hands slightly. "Therefore, I am here to bring you hope."
Raizo's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He didn't relax his posture for a second. As an old fox who had survived the brutal politics of the ninja world for decades, he wasn't about to blindly trust a masked phantom.
"Why should I believe a single word you say?" Raizo demanded, his voice tight. "A man who hides his face in the dark... who knows what your true agenda really is?"
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