Purple Cat and the others hadn't been sent on many missions. The fact that they were all still alive let Yako breathe a little easier.
Soon, he was introduced to the squad's newest addition.
The most important recruit was White Ram—a sensor shinobi.
White Ram, a mber of the Abura clan, specialized in insect-based scouting. His effective range was about one kiloter.
Yako couldn't help feeling a pang of disappointnt. The previous White Ram's Byakugan had a range of three kiloters. Compared to that, these scouting insects were far too limited. Worse, insect scouting had a delay: only once the kikaichū returned could they relay the intel.
White Ram suddenly spoke up."Captain, though we've never t before, my insects tell you don't seem very satisfied with ?"
Yako blinked—apparently even his kikaichū could sense emotions.
"It's not dissatisfaction," Yako replied evenly. "I just thought of the last White Ram. He sacrificed himself in our previous mission. It left a little wistful, nothing more. Return to formation. Get to know your teammates, and let them know you."
Not long after, Captain Yellow Dog issued the summons.
At the camp gate, Yako spotted Danzo standing with two Root operatives. Another mission under his watch.
The ANBU moved in silence.
They left the Land of Grass, descending into the basins of the Land of Rain. Heavy clouds pressed overhead, and soon rain began to fall.
From a thin drizzle to a torrential downpour.
This country was always weeping.
The ceaseless rain crippled daily life. Crops withered; most couldn't survive here. The locals subsisted on aquatic plants—water caltrops, water shield, and the like.
Scouting squads circled back and forth, reporting their findings to Danzo. For all his ruthlessness, there was a benefit to shadowing him: information was constant and tily. Danzo valued his life dearly—he'd never place himself where danger was blind.
Soon, just three kiloters from Agakure's capital, Danzo halted.
According to the scouts, Hanzō himself was inside the city.
Through the rain, the capital lood like a gray phantom.
The ANBU stood motionless around Danzo, cloaks soaked, rainwater running in sheets off their shoulders.
An hour later, a procession erged from the city gates.
Danzo gave a nod. The ANBU squad shifted instantly, intercepting them.
At fifty ters, Yako saw him clearly.
Hanzō—mask upon his face, cloak draped over his shoulders, a scythe clutched in hand. He scanned left, then right, voice carrying a cold, puzzled confidence:
"Danzo. Agakure has already declared war on your Konoha. How dare you co here? Did you co to die?"
He spoke with the easy arrogance of one who had earned his title—Demi-God of the Shinobi World. In this crossroads of the Fourth Great War, Sarutobi Hiruzen, Hanzō, even the Third Kazekage had once treated him with utmost caution. His strength was unfathomable.
But Danzo's reply cut like a blade:
"Hanzō, so much for your vaunted title of 'Demi-God.' You've let Ōnoki play you for a fool.
Kumo has already declared war on Iwa. The Third Raikage himself leads an invasion through the Land of Waterfalls, striking from the north.
anwhile, Konoha presses Iwa's forces through the Land of Grass. If not for your recklessness, we'd already be storming Iwagakure from the south.
I hear Ōnoki promised you a share of missions in the Land of Birds, and even its daimyo's guardian shinobi quota.
If you weren't so easily swayed, you'd see the truth. Had you marched on the Land of Birds now, Iwa would be fighting on three fronts. The missions, the quotas—wouldn't they fall into your lap regardless?
Ōnoki bribed you with what he could never hold in the first place. And you dance at his leash. What a bargain.
Your personal strength is impressive. But as the leader of a minor hidden village, your vision is pitifully narrow.
Work with Konoha instead. I'll teach you what true strategy looks like."
It was rare for Danzo to speak at such length, and rarer still for him to sound so precise. His words cut straight through to the weakness Hanzō could never admit.
Because they weren't wrong. They were too right.
And that made Hanzō's face twist with sha-tinged fury.
His grasp of politics had always been dreadful. Why else would Agakure splinter into so many factions? At first, Yahiko's Akatsuki had been moderate reformists. In ti, they were driven into Nagato's bloody revolutionaries.
Now, Hanzō spat his fury into hand signs."Summoning Jutsu!"
When words failed, he turned to violence.
With a crack of displaced air, the colossal form of a salamander erupted into view.
Yako darted sideways as a cloud of ancient, noxious poison belched from its maw.
Purple mists churned, hissing as raindrops struck them and corroded into nothing.
The salamanders of Agakure thrived in ceaseless storms, but this one was their strongest kin. The rain only stoked its venom, boiling it into sothing even more terrifying.
Several ANBU unleashed Wind Release in tandem, but the mists pressed on.
Danzo himself exhaled a gale, scattering the poison at last.
Yako cursed. 'Damn old viper—did you have to blow it right where I dodged?'
Fox Squad scrambled aside again.
But Hanzō's n were already waiting in the flanks.
They struck as the ANBU twisted mid-air, before they could regain footing—kunai, poisoned needles, a storm of death.
Yako's hands flashed into seals."Water Release: Water Formation Wall!"
A torrent rose, shielding them from most of the barrage.
A roaring Fire Dragon Fla Bullet tore through next, scattering Hanzō's subordinates.
"All units, attack Hanzō! Create an opening for Lord Danzo!" Yellow Dog bellowed, charging ahead.
Danzo, as always, remained still at the rear. His style never changed: send others to test the enemy, hold back until the decisive strike—or the retreat.
But Yellow Dog fought as though his life ant nothing. He led from the front, unleashing a massive Fire Dragon Fla Bullet, its diater dozens of ters across.
The blaze lit Hanzō's form in stark relief.
Yet Hanzō was a master of Water Release.
He raised a wall of water, easily ten tis the scale of Yako's, and smothered the flas.
Yako darted around the barrier's edge, nearly flattened by the salamander's colossal tail. He barely escaped being crushed into paste.
'If I die, it won't be to so salamander. It has to be by Hanzō's hand.'
"Earth Release: Rising Spikes!"
Pillars of earth, each ten ters tall, surged upward, stabbing at the salamander. Its slick, rubbery hide deflected the strikes, but the spikes locked its forelimbs down for a heartbeat.
"Well done!" Yellow Dog barked, before spitting another torrent of fla.
Everyone had their signature. Whatever other jutsu they knew, the ones they could wield instinctively in battle were their true weapons. For Yellow Dog, it was always the Fire Dragon Fla Bullet—an attack that fused both chakra nature and form into a blazing spear.
Three volleys in succession roared toward Hanzō.
ANBU on the opposite flank added their own fire, hemming him in.
It looked as though there was no escape.
Until Hanzō ford a single seal.
"Water Body Flicker!"
In an instant, both he and the salamander vanished.
A chill slithered up Yako's spine. The air itself grew colder.
The salamander—cold-blooded predator—lood behind him.
Hanzō's Water Body Flicker had carried even that massive beast through space.
The scythe flashed. Yako's head flew free.
[Host death detected. Activating Arc of the Waning Moon system…]
'Such a Water Body Flicker… if only it were mine…'
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