Mizura, the Third Mizukage, let out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand failed diplomatic missions.
"Well, would you look at that," Mizura mused, his voice a dry rasp. "It seems the intelligence report you so generously shared, Onoki, was accurate."
As the Third Mizukage, Mizura was from a generation that had seen it all. He was older than whippersnappers like Onoki and the Third Kazekage, Satō.
He'd been a fresh-faced guard for the First Mizukage at the very first Five Kage Summit, a contemporary of the legendary Tobirama Senju. He remembered a world painted in shades of blood and dust.
And because of that, he remembered Madara Uchiha. The man was only a few years his senior, but Madara wasn't just a man; he was a force of nature, a benchmark for "impossible."
The first time a report landed on his desk about some new Uchiha prodigy reaching "Madara's caliber," Mizura had laughed, a short, bitter sound, before using the parchment for kindling.
Madara? You were lucky—or profoundly unlucky—to witness that kind of power once in a lifetime. The idea that the Uchiha could just casually churn out another one every generation was as ludicrous as expecting the tailed beasts to start a book club.
Yet, the fact was now smugly staring him in the face. That very prodigy he'd dismissed years ago was, at the tender age of fourteen, casually trading blows with a sitting Kage. The thought of what she'd be like at his age was enough to give him a migraine that no amount of sake could cure.
This entire clandestine meeting, this gathering of the most powerful shinobi in the world in secret, was born from a collective, simmering panic about Konoha.
Their Jinchuriki, an Uzumaki, was stable. Their tailed beast never went on a rampage. At first, that was just an annoying advantage. But then Konoha's new generation had to go and be… well, monsters.
There's Azula. You had their Hokage's three disciples, the White Fang, that Ghost fellow, Kaito Dan—each one a near-guarantee to reach Kage-level with a bit more experience.
Then there were Mito Uzumaki, Sarutobi Hiruzen, Shimura Danzo, Kagami Uchiha, Hyuga Tenkai, Tajima Uchiha, Aburame Shinji—each of them able to fight the Kage of any village to some extent.
Looking at his own village, Mizura felt a pang of existential dread.
Take the Raikage, 'A,' for instance. The man was a titan, the undisputed strongest in Kumo.
But among the new blood? Not a single soul who could last more than five minutes in a spar with him without needing extensive medical leave.
Their own two Jinchuriki had a habit of periodically exploding and redecorating the village with craters. If this trend continued for another decade, they might as well just send Konoha a fruit basket and a surrender note, because the power gap would be a chasm you could lose the Moon in.
Hence, the meeting. The goal: get the Uzumaki's sealing techniques. Stabilize their weapons. Level the playing field.
And after watching Azula dodge the Raikage's best shots with the infuriating grace of a leaf on the wind, they were more determined than ever. They needed those seals, even if it meant the destruction of an old clan—especially if it would weaken Konoha.
Of course, if Azula could have heard their thoughts, their plans would have been about as useful as a paper umbrella in a typhoon.
She had a hunch this was about the Uzumaki, but she wasn't certain. In fact, as she stood there, a far more direct—and, in her opinion, elegant—solution was tickling the back of her mind.
Would it be simpler to just… remove the problem at its source? she pondered.
It might sound arrogant to an outsider, but her mastery of the Flying Thunder God was, to put it mildly, 'exaggerated.'
A quick teleport back to Konoha, a quick rally of forces: Mito, Hiruzen and his crew, the Hyuga, the Clans… she could practically pack the entire village's elite into one very determined building.
A quick chakra seal for transport, unseal on arrival, and… well, with that lineup, turning four Kage and their guards into a historical footnote wasn't just possible; it was a solid Plan B.
But then she pictured Hiruzen's face. The hand-wringing. The talk of 'diplomatic repercussions' and 'the balance of power.'
She was 100% certain he'd have a panic-induced fainting spell at the mere suggestion. So, with a mental sigh, she filed that delightful scenario away under "Fun But Politically Unviable."
Instead, she decided to make a point. With a surge of chakra, immense wings of roaring, controlled flame erupted from her back—her Kasai no Tsubasa (Conflagration Wings), now refined to a devastating S-rank.
The reason was simple: Onoki and that Kazekage were floating up there, looking down on her. And Azula Uchiha loathed being looked down upon.
The Third Mizukage, Mizura, stared, utterly baffled.
"Konoha ninja," he called out, his curiosity genuinely piqued. "What, exactly, is your game here? Do you genuinely believe we wouldn't dare to harm you? Or are you just crazy enough to think you can take us all on?"
It was a fair question. They were four Kage and their elite guards. The odds were so stacked against her team that the numbers had basically given up and started betting against them.
But Azula was in her element: Taunt Mode. A brilliantly condescending smile graced her lips.
"No way," she gasped in mock surprise. "It couldn't possibly be because you feel the Third Raikage is struggling, and you've decided to give him a polite step back so you can all jump in together? Truly worthy of the Mizukage, such wisdom! Why don't you hurry up and ask for help, Raikage-sama?"
'A' felt his blood pressure spike to levels that would concern a medic-nin. His lightning armor flickered.
But he was also a survivor of the Warring States era; a smart-mouthed teenager, even one who could probably set the air on fire with a thought, wasn't going to make him lose sight of the bigger picture.
"Little girl," he grumbled, the sound like grinding stones. "Don't try to fool me. You're too young for this game. We are shinobi. Teaming up is just the most efficient path to victory. For survival, we've done far worse."
He'd seen humanity at its most brutal, all in the name of living to see another sunrise. His temper was a well-known fact, but it didn't make him a fool—it just made him an enthusiastic strategist.
"You have a point," Azula conceded with a graceful nod, as if awarding him a point in a debate. "But unfortunately for your efficiency, if we wish to leave, there is not a single person here who can stop us."
This was the moment of truth. Her knowledge of the Flying Thunder God was a secret more closely guarded than a Tsuchikage's chiropractor's address.
The list of living people who knew could be counted on two hands. But from the moment the four Kage had appeared, she knew the cat was out of the bag. They would see her teleport, and the shadow of the Second Hokage would forever fall upon her.
Hearing her unshakable confidence that she could leave whenever she wished, 'A' let out a scoff that sounded like boulders grinding together.
"You are indeed an Uchiha," he rumbled, his voice dripping with the kind of condescension usually reserved for a particularly stubborn child claiming they could beat a summoning beast in an arm-wrestling match.
"As arrogant as the day is long. I'll admit your strength—given time, you'd probably surpass me. But take a good, long look at that moon, girl. It's the last time you'll ever see it."
Azula, for her part, didn't bother to refute him verbally. Why waste the breath?
Instead, she tapped into a nifty little secret technique she'd developed—a sort of mental group chat inspired by the Yamanaka clan and powered by her own, frankly ridiculous, reserves of Yin Chakra and a talent for being generally brilliant.
She called it the Art of Communication.
"Alright, listen up, team." Her voice echoed directly in the minds of Sukumo and Tsunade. "The fight against these Kage is almost a certainty. Now, since neither of you can 'fly,' I'll handle the aerial nuisances."
"I'm going to give the grumpy Raikage a surprise high-speed delivery to the ground, then concentrate on fighting the Tsuchikage and Kazekage."
"The tricky part," she continued, her mental tone shifting to that of a strategist explaining a complex board game, "is that they might try to pull a fast one and sneak attack you two while you're earthbound. Hence this secure communication line. We can coordinate and decide to make a tactical retreat—at a moment's notice."
"So, here's the play: Sukumo, you get the pleasure of dealing with the lightning-powered Raikage. Tsunade, the Mizukage is all yours. But remember, this isn't a fight to the death."
"Our goal is to extract information. Every new ability of theirs we learn about is an S-Rank secret and may allow us to target these Kage in the future."
Normally, she wouldn't have to spell it out like this. They were all seasoned Jonin who had worked together many times. But it never hurt to be clear.
With the plan set, Azula took a deep, centering breath. The air at this altitude was crisp, clean, and perfect for the moment of truth.
The next few minutes would be the ultimate final exam for her entire fourteen-year career in this world. It was time to see if all that grueling training, all those sleepless nights, and all the times she'd accidentally set Mito's eyebrows on fire had actually been worth it.
There she was, suspended in the sky on magnificent wings of pure, roaring flame. But that was just the opening act. A cascade of lightning suddenly crackled to life around her body, dancing over her skin like a thousand excited blue-white serpents.
And as if that wasn't enough visual-effects budget for one transformation, fire then erupted from her core, enveloping her in a sleek, blazing armor that shimmered with heat haze.
This was her new combo: the Lightning Release Chakra Mode and her own homemade Fire Release Chakra Mode, operating in a precarious, glorious harmony. It was a balancing act worthy of a circus.
She had to maintain a very specific, delicate equilibrium, because if she let the two chakra natures get too cozy, they might just decide to fuse and create a brand-new Kekkei Genkai right then and there.
And that was the last thing she wanted. While every other ninja in the world was racking their brains, sacrificing their sleep, and probably selling their grandmother's fine china for a chance to create a new Kekkei Genkai, Azula was actively trying to avoid it.
It was like trying to bake a cake while desperately ensuring you don't accidentally create a new, delicious type of pastry.
Thanks to Mito's explanations, she knew a Kekkei Genkai meant a fundamental genetic reshape. Who knew what that kind of cosmic renovation would do to her precious Uchiha bloodline?
It was the ultimate double-edged sword. Maybe it would go well—the genetic upheaval might supercharge her Yin chakra, forcing her Sharingan to evolve straight to the Mangekyou, or even catapult her all the way to the power level of Indra himself.
Or, more likely, it would turn her bloodline into a genetic dumpster fire, either degenerating it or, worst of all, putting a hard cap on her potential. It was the ninja equivalent of getting a software update that permanently locks your phone's performance.
Speaking of her Fire Release Chakra Mode, its origin story was a hoot. The first time she almost birthed a new Kekkei Genkai was during its development.
Everyone and their summoning animal knows that lightning, in a very hand-wavy ninja-science way, can stimulate cells.
But fire? Fire's main hobby is turning things into ash. There's a reason the Uchiha, masters of flame for a thousand years, never developed a Fire Chakra Mode. Their clan records were basically a long, sad list of 'Attempt #4,327: Third-degree burns acquired.'
But Azula was a connoisseur of Earth's anime and movies, where fire was just as often a symbol of hope, rebirth, and cooking a good meal.
She figured, if a fictional flame could heal, why couldn't hers? She theorized that the Uchiha's affinity for Fire Release was deeply tied to their Yin nature.
If the pinnacle of Yin-based fire was the Mangekyou's Amaterasu—a black flame that could never be extinguished—then what if she reversed the polarity?
She started pumping ludicrous amounts of Yin chakra into her fire. The result was a heat so vicious she had to immediately douse it before it vaporized the training ground.
After extensive, and frankly explosive, testing, she realized every elemental jutsu had a Yin-Yang spectrum.
Earth Release with enough Yang chakra could become nigh-indestructible—like if Hashirama used Earth Release, blocking a Tailed Beast Ball would just be play.
Fire Release with the peak of Yin chakra became Madara's world-ending Inferno Style.
So, she did the opposite. She used the barest minimum of Yin chakra in her fire, creating a flame that was warm and tingly, not searing.
Then, she channeled her own meager but potent Yang chakra into it.
The result? A knock-off version of Tsunade's future Creation Rebirth technique—a healing flame that could mend most injuries (though, sadly, it couldn't regrow a lost limb; some things were still off-limits).
The real magic happened when she combined it with the Lightning Release Chakra Mode. The Lightning Mode was infamous for pushing the body past its natural limits, causing immense strain.
But with her healing fire armor constantly repairing the micro-tears and damage as they occurred, she could crank the Lightning Mode's intensity to eleven. Or, more accurately, to 'Are you kidding me?!' levels.
So, there she was, a spectacle that made every Kage and their bodyguards' jaws hit the floor. A warrior clad in living fire, wreathed in a storm of lightning that grew ever more intense, casting wild, dancing shadows across the battlefield.
"Third Raikage!" she called out, her voice cutting through the cacophony of her own power. "I've long heard you're the strongest Lightning Release user! And I'm here to formally file a disagreement! Let me show you what ultimate speed really looks like!"
With a thunderous clap of her fiery wings, she became a meteor. She shot toward the ground so fast she seemed to simply cease existing in the sky and reappear on the earth.
The result was instantaneous. There was a deafening BOOM, and the Third Raikage was violently ejected from his own personal space, sent flying across the terrain like a ragdoll thrown by an angry god.
Nobody saw it happen. One moment Azula was in the sky, the next, the Raikage was airborne.
The only people who might have caught a blur were Sukumo and the Raikage himself, and one of them was currently too busy re-evaluating his life choices to comment.
Azula didn't pause for applause. Her goal was to divide and conquer. The moment the Raikage was inconvenienced, she was already launching a volley of hybrid fireballs, each one sizzling with contained lightning, straight at Ohnoki and Satō.
Seizing the opening, Sukumo didn't hesitate. In a flash of white light, he was upon the Third Raikage, who was already shaking off the impact with a growl.
In the span of a single, chaotic breath, the battlefield was neatly—and violently—split in two. In the sky, Azula began her dazzling, high-stakes dance with the Tsuchikage and Kazekage.
On the ground, Sukumo and the Raikage became a blur of white and blue, their battle moving so fast they were soon just a distant rumble of thunder and a series of exploding trees, leaving Tsunade to crack her knuckles and turn a very, very dangerous smile toward the Mizukage.
The brawl was officially on.
(END OF THE CHAPTER)
I'm not a fan of of nerfing mc, I think this should be the almost peak close combat of current Azula, as for whether she is too strong.
Remember there's a Madara underground with the Rinnegan not yet transplanted in Nagato who can literally absorb chakra, there's a planet full of Otsutsuki who start at Super-kage levels, there's Hagoromo and Homura, there's Kaguya hanging in the sky, there's Isshiki still in the Ninja World, there are the like or Moryo...
Oops! No spoiler.
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