The departure of Hyūga Tennin left a vacancy in the position of Konoha's frontline commander. There wasn't much debate about who would take over. The decision was made that very evening—Senju Tobirama, Hokage's assistant and second-in-command of the Senju clan, would assume the role.
Tobirama wasted no time. That night, he summoned the leaders of Konoha's various operational units and the captains of the frontline squads. By dawn, plans for the next phase of operations were finalized. As the sun rose, Konoha's camp bustled with activity. Squads began shifting positions under their captains' orders, preparing for the battles ahead.
Although Kakuzu hadn't seen Konoha's battle plans, the movements of personnel and the direction of their assembly made their intentions clear—this was a prelude to an offensive. The tactical setup was entirely in line with Tobirama's hawkish reputation. It was only a matter of days before Tobirama would lead a strike against Kumogakure.
Kumogakure's forces were in trouble.
But that wasn't Kakuzu's concern.
By the afternoon, the temporary mess hall of Konoha's camp was buzzing with life. Shinobi eagerly devoured their meals, their faces alight with determination as they prepared for the looming battles. Compared to the Konoha shinobi, Kakuzu appeared much more relaxed. He leisurely placed a piece of salmon into his mouth, savoring its tender, silky texture before swallowing it with a satisfied hum.
"Not bad," he muttered to himself. "As expected of the wealthiest among the Five Great Shinobi Villages—the frontline meals are top-notch."
Kakuzu had already ordered six servings, intending to pack ten more before leaving, as a tribute to Konoha's excellent cuisine.
"Kakuzu-sama."
"Hmm?" Kakuzu looked up mid-chew to see Yamanaka Seifū sitting across from him.
"Why not stay and join us in taking down those barbarians from Kumogakure?"
"Me, stay?" Kakuzu mused. "If I stayed, wouldn't Tobirama have to hand over the commander's position to me?"
The remark drew chuckles from Seifū and the nearby shinobi. Though said in jest, Kakuzu's answer made his stance clear.
Kakuzu wasn't a Konoha shinobi. Without a formal position in their ranks, there was no reason for him to step onto the battlefield. At best, he was an external ally, and he had already done more than enough. Asking him to fight without compensation? That was a step too far. Kakuzu didn't work for free—whether it meant starving or being beaten to death by the Sage of Six Paths himself, working without pay was out of the question.
"While I can't fight alongside you, I wish you all a swift and decisive victory," Kakuzu said with a faint smile.
"Then we'll take your blessings," Seifū replied, raising his cup in a toast.
The group continued chatting while eating, but Kakuzu's sharp eyes soon noticed something unusual. His chopsticks trembled slightly in his hand. It wasn't a matter of unsteady grip—Kakuzu's hands were trained for precise handling of shuriken and kunai. A pair of chopsticks was hardly a challenge.
His gaze shifted to the window.
The sky outside was growing darker, the late afternoon light giving way to the first shadows of evening. Nightfall was less than an hour away. In the direction he was looking, Kakuzu sensed a faint but strong energy fluctuation.
"Kakuzu-sama, what's wrong?" Seifū asked, noticing the change in his expression.
"Nine o'clock direction. Do you sense anything?" Kakuzu asked.
Seifū followed his gaze, setting down his bowl and forming a hand seal. He closed his eyes and focused, extending his perception as far as he could. Although the Yamanaka clan's Mind Transfer Jutsu wasn't primarily a sensory technique, it did enhance their natural ability to sense chakra fluctuations.
After several moments, Seifū opened his eyes, his brow furrowed deeply. He looked at Kakuzu and his companions with a serious expression.
"In the direction of Konoha... there's definitely a chakra fluctuation. It's widespread, but I can't pinpoint the exact source. If my guess is correct, the disturbance is at least several hundred kilometers away."
"Several hundred kilometers?" one of the shinobi nearby murmured in disbelief.
Before anyone could process the information, the sharp, piercing blast of a war horn echoed through the camp.
"Woo! Woo! Woo!"
The sound, once used in the Warring States era to signal a clan's charge, now carried a slightly different meaning in this new age.
It was a call to arms.
"Emergency assembly!"
In an instant, the previously lively mess hall emptied. The clatter of dishes ceased, replaced by the rustle of paper napkins fluttering to the floor and the faint warmth of half-eaten meals left behind.
Outside, the entire mobile force of Konoha was gathering.
Kakuzu didn't have to join, but sitting alone in an empty mess hall felt pointless. He followed the others, though he stood to the side, observing silently.
Senju Tobirama emerged from the command tent in a hurry, flanked by a group of strategists who bombarded him with updates. His face, usually composed and resolute, betrayed an unusual tension.
With a wave of his hand, he released several carrier pigeons into the sky.
"Done. I've already notified the Hyūga clan and instructed them to steer clear of that area on their way back," Senju Tobirama said, his gaze sweeping over the hundred assembled rapid-response ninja.
If it were up to him, he'd lead every single one of them into battle immediately. But logic held him back. Someone needed to stay behind and defend this place.
"Yamanaka Kiyokaze, take two squads and gather at the location I've marked!"
"Understood!" Kiyokaze stepped forward and began organizing his team.
Meanwhile, Tobirama continued scanning the group, carefully choosing who would accompany him for the initial assault. His sharp eyes landed on his ideal candidate.
With a blur of movement, he appeared beside Kakuzu.
"What do you want? I'm not from your Konoha, and I don't work for free—" Kakuzu's words were cut off as Tobirama clapped a firm hand on his shoulder, his other hand forming the Seal of Confrontation.
"No time to explain. You're coming with me!"
Before Kakuzu could protest further, the two disappeared in a series of flashing movements.
Seconds later—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The ground trembled, the air roared, and the once-dim sky was engulfed in a chaotic swirl of crimson and black.
Kakuzu could only hear the deafening blasts and feel the violent tremors beneath his feet. It was as if the world were ending. He was beyond exasperated.
The last time Tobirama had dragged him along with Flying Thunder God, it was to confront Uchiha Madara. That debacle had nearly gotten him killed—and worse, it had earned them the dubious honor of making Madara laugh.
And now? What was this mess?
Tobirama himself was momentarily stunned. The intelligence he'd received didn't even hint at this level of devastation. It was like stepping into the apocalypse.
After what felt like an eternity, the two managed to steady themselves amidst the rubble, their eyes locking onto the scene ahead.
In the sky, nine crimson tails lashed wildly, and a face twisted with malice and hatred loomed over them.
Kakuzu and Tobirama exchanged a grim look. It was the Nine-Tails. Or, more accurately, the Nine-Tails under someone's control. The glaring evidence? Its eyes—shaped unmistakably like the Sharingan.
And the one controlling it was obvious. Standing on the Nine-Tails' head with his arms crossed, exuding an air of absolute dominance, was none other than Uchiha Madara.
After all these years, he had returned—with a vengeance.
On the ground, facing Madara across the battlefield, was Senju Hashirama.
Hashirama had just finished a diplomatic visit to Sunagakure in the Land of Wind when urgent reports diverted him to the frontlines to deal with a brewing conflict with Kumogakure. But here, in the Valley of the End, he had encountered Madara.
One look into Madara's cold, unyielding eyes, and Hashirama knew this was no chance meeting.
After instructing his subordinates to leave behind the large sealing scrolls and retreat, Hashirama stood firm.
This battle could only be fought by him alone.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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