The look in Kisame's eyes seemed to scream a message loud and clear:
"You will die one day too—and you'll eventually fall into my hands!"
The eerie silence that followed the departure of the Shinigami was unsettling. All the chickens and rabbits on the ground had perished—lifeless bodies lying strewn about, as if touched by some divine punishment.
"Gulp!"
Kisame's throat twitched as he swallowed hard. He had just witnessed something that defied reason. A power that could strike deals with ghosts and gods...
A power far beyond Akatsuki's reach.
He shuddered. With people like this standing in the way, could Akatsuki really achieve its so-called "peace" without resistance?
"The spell should've succeeded. And since we conveniently have a living specimen right here..."
Morkel turned his gaze toward Kisame and spoke to himself with unnerving calm.
"Why not use him as a sacrifice for the Impure World Reincarnation technique and try to revive the Fourth Hokage?"
Kisame's face stiffened.
'Being captured... at least if I die, I won't be tortured. Maybe that's a good outcome?'
But then he recalled the ghostly figure he had just seen.
Suddenly, dying didn't seem so attractive.
"What am I thinking…?"
Morkel continued, ignoring Kisame's visible tension.
"Forget it. We can always capture some other enemy ninja for that purpose. Better to maximize this guy's value—send him back to headquarters for interrogation."
Kisame tried to speak but remained silent. There was nothing he could say that would change his fate.
---
Meanwhile, in the Land of Fire—the palace of the Daimyo.
After the outbreak of the Fourth Great Ninja War, the daimyos of all the major nations had been gathered here for protection. In order to ensure their absolute safety, they had been strictly prohibited from leaving the palace until the war ended.
This had turned their days into a monotonous routine of playing mahjong and chess, with not much else to occupy their minds.
"Four barrels."
"Little Chicken."
"Thirty thousand."
"Move!"
"Sanjo! Listening card!"
Amid the dull chatter, the Fire Country Daimyo sighed, placing his tiles on the board.
"I wonder how long this war will drag on. Being confined in here every single day is unbearable."
The Daimyo of the Land of Lightning, who had just suffered another defeat in the game, frowned.
"You should be grateful. At least you're home. Your family and your servants are here. We're in a foreign palace—and you don't hear us complaining!"
The Earth Country Daimyo nodded in agreement.
"He's right. You're always winning in these games anyway. You've already taken enough from us to buy half a city!"
Embarrassed, the Fire Country Daimyo fell silent and focused on the next round.
But soon, he broke into a grin.
"Hah! I got it! Hahaha!"
As the others groaned and prepared to pay up, a faint rumble interrupted their game.
The floor began to shake.
At first, it was subtle. But the tremors grew stronger and more urgent.
The Fire Country Daimyo quickly summoned his aide.
"What's going on outside?"
A servant rushed in, bowing.
"Someone tried to break into the mansion, but they were intercepted by Lord Jiraiya."
The daimyos breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"Don't worry, everyone," the Fire Daimyo reassured them, "with Lord Jiraiya here, there's nothing to fear."
The other daimyos looked at each other curiously.
"You seem very confident in Jiraiya. Why?" asked the Wind Daimyo.
"Indeed," echoed the Water Daimyo, "isn't he just a ninja like the rest?"
The Fire Daimyo chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention.
"It's not just Jiraiya himself. It's the student he trained."
He leaned in with pride.
"His disciple is none other than Morkel from the Hidden Leaf Village!"
---
Outside the Daimyo's Mansion
Jiraiya stood at the forefront of the defense force. A team of elite shinobi was arrayed behind him, ready to defend the daimyos at all costs.
In front of him stood two familiar figures clad in Akatsuki cloaks.
A look of recognition flashed across Jiraiya's face. His tone, though light, carried weight.
"Konan… I didn't expect to see you here again."
Konan, hovering slightly above the ground on her paper wings, stared coldly at her former mentor.
"Teacher Jiraiya… You've already died once. Don't get in our way again."
Her voice was flat, but her intent was deadly.
Jiraiya's expression darkened.
"You've got some nerve," he snapped. "Do you think I've forgotten what I did for you three?"
"Back then, you, Yahiko, and Nagato—just three helpless orphans caught in a war-torn world. I took you in, taught you everything I knew."
"And now, this is how you repay me?"
Konan narrowed her eyes.
"Teacher, if you hadn't stood in Akatsuki's way, we never would've had to fight."
"We only seek peace. It's you who choose opposition."
Jiraiya waved her words away dismissively.
"There's no use arguing. I've trained many students—some turned traitor, like you, and others turned out better."
Konan opened her mouth to speak, but the other figure beside her, a man named Wei, interrupted.
"There's no point in wasting time on this old fool. Just kill him and take the Daimyo."
"If we capture the Daimyo, the country will fall into chaos. Let's see if the Allied Shinobi Forces can still fight with their nations in disarray."
Konan nodded in agreement.
With a flourish of paper, wings unfolded from her back with a soft rustle. She took to the sky, preparing for battle.
Meanwhile, a strange figure sank into the earth—it was Zetsu.
---
Suddenly—
"Clatter!"
BOOM!
Vines thicker than tree trunks burst from the ground, lashing out at the defensive shinobi.
"Wood Style?!"
Jiraiya's eyes widened. "I never knew Zetsu could use that!"
The ninjas scattered to evade the destructive assault.
Zetsu's dual-toned face—half white, half black—curled into a twisted smirk.
"There's a lot you don't know about us."
---
On the Coastline of the Land of Lightning
The First Combat Team was engaged in a relentless battle against the White Zetsu army and the resurrected warriors summoned through Impure World Reincarnation.
The battlefield had been soaked in blood for nearly a day. After intense efforts, the ninja alliance had managed to halt the advance of the White Zetsu forces.
However, the unique abilities of their enemies made total victory difficult. Some elite units of the enemy remained unscathed.
Behind the lines, a temporary medical camp stood—little more than a collection of tents, but critical to the ongoing fight.
Wounded ninjas were constantly being rushed in and out. Outside the camp, corpses lay in rows, covered with white cloth.
Inside the largest tent, Ino Yamanaka—clad in a white coat and a surgical mask—was leading the medical efforts.
She had just completed healing a ninja's damaged eyes when another soldier was carried in with a mangled leg.
Beside her, Haruno Sakura assisted tirelessly.
"There are so many injured," Sakura said, exasperated. "And less than 50 of us in the medical team. We can't treat everyone."
Ino sighed, her face weary.
"We have no choice but to prioritize the critically wounded... It's wartime. We're doing what we can."
"I just wish... I had the kind of power Morkel has."
Sakura placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.
"Don't beat yourself up. Not everyone can be like Morkel. What we're doing—saving lives—matters too."
Just then, the female ninja on the cot stirred.
"You... you know Morkel?"
Startled, Ino nodded while tending to her wound.
"Yes, he and I were classmates in the Academy..."
The woman suddenly looked excited.
"I'm the former Jinchūriki of the Two-Tailed Beast from the Cloud Village... the Second Wooden Golem!"
"Could you... please tell Morkel that I really like him?"
Ino's hands trembled.
She nearly dropped her scalpel.
"Y-You and Morkel…?"
"I owe him my life!" the woman said, blushing but determined. "He's saved me countless times. I don't care that I'm a bit older than him—relationships between older women and younger men are normal!"
Her voice faltered for a moment, then strengthened.
"And besides, this is war. If I don't say this now, I may never get the chance again."
Ino blinked, forcing a strained smile.
"You… what you said… does make sense."
But her heart was aching.
---
To be continued…