The massive summoned creature that had split apart and gradually enveloped the entire mountainside was indeed Katsuyu, Tsunade's legendary slug familiar. Under the Sannin's precise control, countless smaller slugs spread throughout the terrain like a living medical network, their regenerative secretions beginning to heal both the wounded landscape and its defenders.
When the slugs made contact with Minato, Kakashi, and Itachi, all three felt their depleted chakra reserves slowly beginning to replenish. The sensation was like cool water flowing through drought-stricken earth, bringing renewed vitality to their exhausted systems.
The grim expression on Minato's weathered features relaxed slightly at this welcome development. His enhanced senses detected movement below, and he turned to observe several familiar figures emerging from the devastated terrain that had once been Konoha's outer districts.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Jiraiya landed heavily on the flattened ground, his powerful legs absorbing the impact with practiced ease. But as he raised his gaze toward the sky, his entire body began to tremble with a mixture of recognition and profound heartbreak.
Nagato seemed to sense the intensity of his former teacher's stare and looked down to meet those pain-filled eyes.
"It really is you," Jiraiya whispered, his voice carrying the weight of shattered dreams and broken hopes.
"Nagato!" The name tore from his throat like a physical wound.
Jiraiya's already haggard features—aged beyond his years by constant warfare and the loss of too many students—twitched with suppressed emotion. His pupils contracted to pinpricks as he stared into those emotionless Rinnegan that had once belonged to a boy who dreamed of bringing peace to the world.
"It has been quite some time since we last met, Jiraiya-sensei," Nagato replied with chilling detachment, his voice carrying none of the warmth or respect that should have existed between teacher and student.
As he spoke, his enhanced senses detected additional chakra signatures approaching their position, and his eyebrows rose slightly in acknowledgment of the tactical situation's evolution.
"Sensei?" both Nawaki and Hatake Sakumo exchanged confused glances, clearly unaware of the complex history connecting their ally to this devastating enemy.
Minato's tactical awareness immediately recognized the implications of these revelations. His form blurred with incredible speed as he vanished from their position.
Flash!
Within moments, the Fourth Hokage reappeared alongside Uchiha Yoruki, whose condition immediately drew concerned attention from his allies.
"I was so close to finishing him," Yoruki muttered, his normally confident demeanor darkened by frustration and exhaustion.
His Sharingan had dimmed considerably, and a look of bitter disappointment marked his aristocratic features. Just as he had been about to defeat Kakuzu in single combat, a woman had intervened—likely Konan, based on the timing and tactical coordination.
Even with his Mangekyō Sharingan abilities, facing two S-rank opponents simultaneously had quickly turned the tide against him.
After ensuring Yoruki's safety, Minato's legendary speed carried him through several more instantaneous relocations before he materialized beside Jiraiya on the broken ground.
"Sensei, besides Nagato..." Minato began, his tone carefully measured.
But Jiraiya raised a weathered hand to forestall further discussion. "I know," he said simply, his voice heavy with the burden of terrible understanding.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jiraiya looked up at his former student with eyes that reflected decades of accumulated grief.
"Nagato," he called out, his voice carrying across the battlefield with painful clarity, "what happened to you? What drove you and Konan to commit such acts?"
The legendary Sannin understood all too well the tragic circumstances of Nagato's childhood—parents killed by Konoha ninja during the chaos of war, a lifetime of suffering in a country torn apart by conflicts between major powers. He even knew the general details of the conspiracy that Danzo and Hanzo had orchestrated more than a decade ago.
Given such a history of pain and loss, it wouldn't surprise Jiraiya if Nagato harbored deep hatred toward Konoha specifically and the ninja system in general.
But what truly bewildered him was how completely Nagato had abandoned every principle they had once shared.
During the Third Shinobi World War, when Jiraiya had encountered Yahiko's group, they had stood on opposite sides of a military conflict. Yet even then, their primary concern had been protecting Rain Country civilians from the devastating effects of international warfare.
At the time, Jiraiya had felt nothing but pride in their commitment to humanitarian ideals, even when it put them at odds with Konoha's immediate tactical objectives.
But learning that the architect of Konoha's recent devastation—someone who showed complete disregard for innocent lives—was that same idealistic boy left him struggling to comprehend the transformation.
"Such acts?" Nagato's tone shifted, carrying a note of sardonic amusement. "What exactly do you believe we have done, sensei?"
His gaze swept across the assembled defenders with cold calculation. "Are you referring to our concern for the lives of those below?"
He gestured toward the partially collapsed mountain where countless casualties lay buried beneath tons of rubble. His technique had directly caused massive civilian casualties—a fact that should have weighed heavily on anyone with a functioning conscience.
Throughout the area, many who could still hear Nagato's words turned their attention toward this exchange. Most civilians had lost consciousness from shock and injury, but numerous ninja remained aware, including the exhausted Kushina, the Third Hokage, and Shisui.
The corners of Nagato's mouth curved upward in a cold smile that held no warmth or humor.
"Rather than saying I harmed them," he continued with devastating logic, "wouldn't it be more accurate to say that Konoha's ninja proved incompetent?"
His words struck like physical blows, each syllable carefully chosen for maximum psychological impact.
"In your own territory, you failed to protect your companions and relatives. You were unable to shield those who depended on you for safety."
The pause that followed was pregnant with terrible meaning.
"It's exactly like the Great Ninja Wars—the same pain that you major nations have inflicted upon smaller countries for generations."
His voice grew softer, more intimate, as if sharing a secret. "Now, do you finally understand what that suffering feels like?"
As soon as the words left his lips, the faces of Jiraiya, Minato, and every conscious Konoha ninja shifted through various shades of pale and flushed as the implications struck home.
"What are you saying, you bastard!" Naruto's voice exploded with fury, his normally cheerful demeanor completely overwhelmed by righteous anger.
His blue pupils gradually shifted to vertical slits, his canine teeth grew noticeably sharper, and the six whisker marks on his cheeks darkened to a deep crimson color. The Nine-Tails' influence was beginning to manifest in response to his emotional state.
"You interrupted our exams and attacked our village!" he continued, his young voice cracking with emotion. "Come down from the sky if you have any courage! I'll make you pay for what you've done to everyone here!"
"Naruto..." Chiharu whispered, her voice filled with concern for her brother's safety.
"Big brother..." Sasuke added, his normally composed expression showing genuine fear.
"This guy..." several other young ninja murmured, their faces pale with the recognition of their complete powerlessness.
Having witnessed Nagato's overwhelming techniques firsthand, they all understood the vast gulf that separated their abilities from the figure floating above them. Without Kushina's protective barrier, every person on the mountain would already be dead.
Even the Fourth Hokage—their village's strongest defender—had been unable to achieve decisive victory against this enemy.
Perhaps only Naruto, in his innocent fury, could speak such words without being paralyzed by the reality of their situation.
"Hmm?" Nagato's attention focused on the young boy with newfound interest.
His enhanced perception had initially dismissed the child as irrelevant, but now he could clearly sense the presence of a Tailed Beast sealed within that small form.
"The Nine-Tails?" he mused, his analytical mind processing this tactical intelligence.
The chakra signature was unmistakable, though it seemed to be contained within both the boy and the red-haired woman nearby. Some form of shared sealing arrangement, perhaps?
However, Kushina had already deployed a barrier technique that obscured detailed chakra analysis, preventing him from gathering more specific information.
"Minato Namikaze's son," Nagato concluded, filing away this potentially valuable discovery for future reference.
"Nagato," Jiraiya's voice carried a note of desperate pleading, "didn't you once tell me about your dreams? How did this happen?"
The legendary ninja's eyes flickered with an expression of profound guilt, because despite the biased nature of Nagato's accusations, they contained uncomfortable truths that he couldn't simply dismiss.
The major ninja villages had indeed committed similar acts of destruction against smaller nations countless times throughout history—often with even less justification than Nagato's current rampage.
"My previous idealism was nothing more than naive foolishness," Nagato responded with bitter finality. "It was precisely that naivety that led to Yahiko's death."
His gaze fixed on Jiraiya with the intensity of a predator studying prey. "Besides, weren't you the one who taught me that lesson, sensei?"
The accusation hung in the air like a blade. "You said that true mutual understanding between people was impossible."
His attention shifted to Minato, and his voice took on the tone of someone delivering a philosophical lecture. "The ninja of Konoha killed my parents and murdered my closest friend."
"So now, when Konoha suffers heavy casualties in return, Minato Namikaze—as Hokage—naturally wants to kill me for it."
The logic was presented with chilling rationality. "Perhaps he understands my motivations perfectly and even experiences some hesitation about his course of action. But what does that matter?"
Nagato's smile grew colder. "Even when hearts achieve understanding, people abandon their convictions because of external obligations and social pressure."
Minato's expression flickered as the philosophical challenge struck home. "If you truly understand all of this," he replied carefully, "then what purpose do your actions serve?"
His voice carried the authority of his office as well as genuine curiosity. "How are your methods any different from those who have caused you pain?"
"Of course," Nagato's smile widened, taking on an almost benevolent quality that made his words even more disturbing. "From your limited perspective, you might assume I'm acting purely from a desire for revenge against Konoha."
He paused, allowing the weight of his next words to settle. "Such thinking demonstrates the fundamental short-sightedness of human nature."
"Aren't you human yourself?" Nawaki interjected with a sneer, his hands already moving through preparatory seals as anger overcame tactical wisdom.
At that moment, Nagato's cold gaze swept down to fix on the young Senju with predatory focus.
"Everything I do serves the cause of true, lasting peace," he declared, his voice carrying the absolute conviction of religious fanaticism.
"This world requires guidance from someone with the wisdom and power to enforce harmony."
His arms spread wide in a gesture that encompassed not just the battlefield but the entire ninja world beyond.
"I will become that guide. I will become God!"
The declaration rang across the devastated landscape with the finality of divine judgment, promising a future where peace would be imposed through overwhelming force rather than achieved through mutual understanding.
The philosophical battle lines had been drawn, and the fundamental question of how to achieve lasting peace now hung in the balance between two opposing visions of the future.