That night, Kakashi stayed behind at the command center, while Mori and Tenzo returned to their assigned quarters to rest and await further orders.
"Mori-senpai, what are you doing?"
Back inside the tent, Mori had unrolled a scroll and was busy with sothing that imdiately caught Tenzo's attention.
"Training."
Tenzo fell silent for a mont, his tone carrying genuine awe. "After a battle like that—using so many high-level techniques and exhausting so much chakra—you can still train? Mori-senpai, you really are on a different level."
It wasn't flattery. Ever since he had seen Mori's Wood Release on the battlefield, Tenzo could feel the difference. Despite sharing the sa kekkei genkai, their techniques had distinct natures.
Tenzo's Wood Release focused on shaping constructs and containnt. Mori's, on the other hand, felt alive—more demanding, more forceful, and terrifyingly effective against Jinchūriki.
Even Kakashi, who had worked with Tenzo for years, had sensed it—and had deliberately assigned Tenzo to act as Mori's support.
"It's just a rare chance to refine my control," Mori replied, sealing away the last of the scrolls and tucking them neatly into his ninja pouch. Then, he fastened his mask back over his face.
Seeing this, Tenzo quietly did the sa.
Just then, the tent flap lifted.
Jiraiya didn't enter right away; he paused at the entrance, as if making sure he wasn't interrupting anything, before stepping in.
"Yo! You two really pulled your weight today," he greeted with a grin. "If it weren't for you, dealing with those two Jinchūriki would've been a nightmare. We didn't capture them, but forcing a retreat like that? That's a win in my book."
"Lord Jiraiya," Rōshi spoke evenly, his tone polite but direct, "I assu there's sothing specific you ca to tell us?"
If this had been a routine debrief, he would've gone through Kakashi. Jiraiya didn't need to visit Anbu personally unless it was sothing that required discretion.
"You're really not the warm and fuzzy type, are you?" Jiraiya chuckled, scratching his unruly white hair before sighing. "Alright, alright, straight to business. With Iwagakure's main force pushed back to the Kannabi Bridge, we've basically hit the strategic target set by the Hokage. And your contribution was vital."
He paused, his tone growing firm. "However, until both enemy Jinchūriki are confird to have retreated, you two are not cleared to leave the front."
Rōshi rely nodded. That much was expected.
"And then…" Jiraiya rubbed the back of his neck, looking faintly exasperated. "That Kakashi fellow seems to think he's less important than you two. So he's already taken a squad and gone off on a recon mission—on his own."
"Again?!" Tenzo blurted out before catching himself. Feeling both the Sannin's and Rōshi's gazes, he quickly straightened up and muttered, "Ahem… understood."
Jiraiya laughed heartily. "You've got it rough too, Tenzo. That guy really doesn't play well with others, huh?"
The humor faded from his expression a mont later. "Anyway, that's the situation. Until Kakashi gets back—or this phase officially ends—you two will be under my command."
Neither Rōshi nor Tenzo objected. Jiraiya's authority was second only to the Hokage's. As one of the Legendary Sannin and current supre commander of the western front, his words carried the weight of the entire village.
After a few more minutes of small talk—checking on their condition, supplies, and whether they needed resupply—Jiraiya rose to leave.
When the tent flap fell shut again, the silence returned.
anwhile, at Iwagakure's frontline command post, the atmosphere was far darker.
"Wood Release… a most troubleso power."
Ōnoki's voice was low, thoughtful. Having once witnessed firsthand how Hashirama subdued the entire shinobi world and tad the Tailed Beasts, he knew better than anyone to fear that power.
It was because of that understanding that he now found himself trapped in a painful dilemma.
Sending the Jinchūriki back into battle against a Wood Release user capable of restraining Tailed Beasts was a fool's gamble—a high-risk, low-reward move that could cost Iwagakure its most valuable assets.
Jinchūriki were living weapons. Losing one was a disaster; losing two would be catastrophic.
But if he abandoned their power entirely, then trying to break through the Kannabi Bridge line would devolve into a war of attrition—a grind that favored no one.
Not with Jiraiya commanding the other side.
And certainly not while the Third Hokage's shadow still lood in reserve.
His initial plan had been to hold the line and wait—wait for Kumogakure to see Konoha stretched thin and open a second front in the east.
He had patience to spare.
But the news that reached him three days after the front stabilized crushed that hope.
Konoha's propaganda division had made it public: an envoy led by Advisor Homura Mitokado had entered the Land of Frost—beginning formal peace talks with Kumo.
The mont Ōnoki heard, his expression darkened.
So that was it.
The Fourth Raikage, A, was using his offensive as leverage—bargaining for better terms at Konoha's negotiation table.
If Iwagakure continued this stalemate, they'd bleed for nothing while Kumo reaped the diplomatic rewards.
Were Iwa and Kumo allies? Hardly. The Third Raikage had died at Iwagakure's hands.
If cooperation served both sides, Ōnoki could stomach it. But this ti, Iwagakure stood to gain nothing.
And there was still Sunagakure to consider.
Officially, Suna was Konoha's ally—or so Konoha's propaganda claid. If Iwa kept fighting and Kumo withdrew, Rasa could turn opportunist overnight—allying with Konoha to reclaim territories in the north that Iwa had fought so hard to control.
The balance of gain and loss was already tipped.
Ōnoki slowly descended from the air, his expression grim.
"Change of plans," he said quietly. "Kitsuchi, organize a phased withdrawal. Prioritize the wounded and essential supplies. Iwagakure will pull back."
"Lord Tsuchikage?" Kitsuchi looked startled. Though the battle wasn't going well, it hadn't yet reached the point of full retreat.
"Execute the order."
"…Yes!" Kitsuchi saluted and hurried off to relay the command.
Ōnoki watched him go, the weight of decades pressing down on his shoulders.
He had invested everything into this campaign—even risked his Jinchūriki—yet in the end, the result was the sa.
Rasa hesitated. The Raikage manipulated from afar. Surrounded by half-hearted allies, Iwagakure could never truly seize victory.
He was old. He knew it.
Would he live to see Iwagakure's next chance?
Ōnoki didn't know.
But one thing he was certain of—
the ti had co to entrust the future to the next generation.
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