The next morning, just as dawn broke—
Konoha's command headquarters was shrouded in a grim, murderous atmosphere.
Seated at the head of the long table was the overall commander of this battlefield: Nara Shikaku. Though still young, the strategic acumen contained within that pineapple-shaped hairstyle far surpassed that of the entire staff division combined.
The doors swung open.
Uchiha Tobirama stepped inside, with Tsunade walking beside him.
The moment the two entered, every gaze in the room turned toward them.
Especially the man seated at the first position on the left.
He wore a high-collared robe emblazoned with the Uchiha clan crest. His face was stern, deep nasolabial folds etched with age and experience.
Uchiha Tomiyama.
The current head of the Uchiha Clan.
When he saw Tobirama, Tomiyama's expression was complicated—shock, relief, and an unmistakable hint of vigilance.
Still, he took the initiative to nod in greeting.
In the Ninja World, where strength reigned supreme, Tobirama's recent feats were more than enough for even an elder like Tomiyama to treat him as an equal.
Tobirama returned the nod casually, pulled out a chair, and sat down beside Tsunade.
"Everyone's here. Let's begin," Shikaku said, gesturing toward the map spread across the table.
"Although Hanzō escaped, Amegakure still stands."
"The Hidden Rain Village has suffered a complete collapse in morale. More than half of its main force has been killed or wounded. This is the weakest it has ever been."
"My proposal is—"
A cold glint flashed through Shikaku's eyes.
"Uproot it entirely."
"Divide our forces into three routes, led by Lady Tsunade, Lord Jiraiya, and Lord Orochimaru. We advance simultaneously, crush the Hidden Rain Village, and force Hanzō into a final confrontation."
"Agreed."
Orochimaru licked his lips, murderous excitement flickering across his face.
"Seconded."
Though Jiraiya pitied civilians, he understood that war left no room for hesitation.
"I have no objections either."
Tsunade glanced briefly at Tobirama, her gaze resolute.
The decision passed unanimously.
The offensive began.
The Konoha army surged forward like dark clouds pressing down upon a city.
Tobirama advanced alongside Tsunade's unit, the two of them acting like a living battering ram.
Traps? They smashed straight through.
Ambushes? They smashed straight through.
The so-called impregnable defensive line of the Hidden Rain Village crumbled like wet paper before overwhelming firepower.
By midday—
The three advancing forces converged at the gates of Amegakure.
Rain lashed down mercilessly.
Steel towers loomed overhead, each one crowded with desperate Amegakure ninja.
At the highest central tower stood Hanzō of the Salamander.
One of his arms was gone, wrapped in thick layers of blood-soaked bandages. His face was deathly pale, yet his eyes still burned with savage resolve—the fury of a cornered beast.
"Konoha… you've gone too far!"
Hanzō roared, his voice hoarse.
"All Amegakure ninja, heed my command! For our homeland—fight to the death!"
"Kill!"
Driven into desperation, the Hidden Rain forces launched a ferocious counterattack.
Kunai and explosive tags rained down like a storm.
Despite their numerical advantage, Konoha's advance stalled under the suicidal assault.
"Ah—help!"
"We can't hold them! They're charging with explosive tags strapped to themselves!"
The front lines suffered heavy losses. Gaps began to appear in Konoha's formation.
Tsunade was restrained by three enemy jōnin and shouted urgently, "Hold the line! Don't panic!"
At that moment—
A lazy voice echoed faintly across the battlefield.
"What a hassle."
"Looks like I'll have to clear the field for you."
Uchiha Tobirama stepped to the very front of the formation and calmly drew a kunai from his ninja pouch.
A special kunai.
Black sealing formulae were etched into its handle.
With a flick of his wrist—
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Dozens of marked kunai scattered across the battlefield, embedding themselves in every direction.
High atop the tower, Hanzō's pupils shrank.
Is he finally making his move?
Before he could react—
"Flying Thunder God Technique!"
Tobirama vanished.
In the next instant—
Flash!
A figure appeared to the left. An Amegakure ninja's head flew into the air.
Flash!
A glimmer to the right—three suicide attackers were cleaved cleanly in half.
Flash—flash—flash—flash—flash!
Too fast.
Far too fast.
The naked eye couldn't track him at all—only flashes of blade-light tearing through the rain-soaked battlefield.
With every flicker, blood blossomed.
In less than ten seconds—
Over a hundred elite Amegakure ninja lay dead, never even seeing their killer's face.
"This… this is…"
Jiraiya rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
"Space-Time Ninjutsu?!"
"This brat… he knows even that?!"
Both Konoha and Amegakure stood frozen, stunned by the impossible spectacle.
Tobirama flashed one final time, stopping at the main gate of the Hidden Rain Village.
Rainwater beneath his feet had turned crimson, yet not a single drop of blood stained his body.
He lifted his head, his Mangekyō Sharingan locking onto Hanzō hundreds of meters away.
"Hanzō."
"Come down and meet your death."
Atop the tower, Hanzō stared at the corpses below, his grip on his kusarigama trembling.
First that monstrous Susanoo…
Now Space-Time Ninjutsu as well…
How was anyone supposed to fight this?
Yet retreat was impossible.
Behind him stood the Hidden Rain Village—its elderly, its children, and the dream he had pursued his entire life.
"…Hah."
Hanzō exhaled slowly, resolve hardening in his eyes.
He leapt from the tower and landed before Tobirama.
Holding his weapon in one hand, his figure looked desolate beneath the rain.
"Uchiha Tobirama…"
His voice had lost its former arrogance, replaced by weariness and sorrow.
"I have fought my entire life for this country."
"The Land of Rain is trapped between three great nations, ravaged by endless war. Our people live in poverty."
"I only wanted them to eat their fill… to sleep without hearing cries of grief…"
"What did I do wrong?!"
His emotions surged as he gestured toward the shattered village and the children weeping behind broken windows.
"You great nations sit above us, enjoying peace and prosperity—"
"Yet you bring war and suffering upon us!"
"Even if I die today, I'll take one of you down with me!"
The words were heavy with tragedy.
Many Amegakure ninja glared at Konoha's forces, and even some Konoha ninja wavered.
It was true.
They were invaders.
The other side had only been protecting their home.
But Tobirama smiled.
"Are you finished?"
He stepped forward, blade in hand.
"Hanzō, don't dress your reckless ambition up as some noble ideal."
He pointed toward the ruins behind Hanzō.
"Is this what you call protection?"
"For your own ambitions, you provoked the Land of Iron and declared war on all three great nations at once."
"You were the one who dragged the flames of war to your doorstep."
"You were the one who turned these children into orphans."
"Being weak is not a sin."
"But being weak—and still daring to challenge the strong?"
"That is the original sin."
Each word struck like a blade.
Hanzō's face drained of color, his body swaying.
"No… that's not true…"
"I did it for peace…"
"Peace?"
Tobirama sneered.
"Peace is something you fight for—not something you daydream about."
"Once your conviction faltered, your blade dulled."
"Let's end this."
Flash!
Tobirama moved.
No Flying Thunder God.
No Susanoo.
Only pure swordsmanship.
"Uchiha Style: Sun Halo Dance!"
Flames erupted along the blade, carving a perfect arc.
Hanzō instinctively raised his kusarigama to block—
But he hesitated.
In that instant, staring at the ruined village, his resolve collapsed.
Clang—crack!
The weapon that had claimed countless lives shattered.
And so did Hanzō's throat.
Blood sprayed.
Hanzō's eyes widened as the broken blade fell into the rain-soaked mud.
He had lost.
Not to strength—
But to conviction.
"Cough… cough…"
Hanzō collapsed to his knees, clutching his throat as life drained away.
He looked up at the cold youth before him.
The unwillingness in his eyes faded, replaced by a faint plea.
"I… lost…"
"Uchiha… Tobirama…"
"I beg you…"
"Spare… this village…"
"They… are innocent…"
When death approaches, even the proud speak gently.
In his final moments, the once-feared demigod abandoned all dignity to beg for his people.
Tobirama looked at him. The Mangekyō Sharingan slowly faded from his eyes.
He sheathed his blade.
"Rest in peace."
There was no arrogance in his voice—only calm certainty.
"From this day forward, the Hidden Rain Village no longer belongs to you."
"It is my trophy."
"And since it is mine, I will protect it."
"In the future, this place will be like Konoha."
"There will be sunlight."
"And there will be peace."
A faint glimmer finally appeared in Hanzō's dimming eyes.
Relief.
"…Is that so…"
"Then… I leave it… to you…"
His head fell.
Hanzō of the Salamander.
A demigod of the Ninja World—
Dead.
The rain continued to fall.
This time, it seemed to be bidding farewell to a relic of a bygone era.
Tsunade looked at Tobirama standing amid the corpses, her gaze filled with pride and complexity.
She walked over and stood beside him.
"Is it over?"
Tobirama looked up at the dark clouds slowly dispersing overhead, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah."
"But only for now…"