"No."
After a moment of silence, as if having made a certain decision, Pakura abruptly turned back to face the frightened and bewildered faces behind her.
"We are not going to Konoha," she shook her head, her tone resolute.
With that, Pakura raised her hand and pointed in the direction they came from, continuing: "We are going back. Back to the Land of Wind, to see the Daimyō."
"What?"
"Go to see the Daimyō-sama?"
Hearing this, the expressions of many Sand Ninja instantly changed. Some opened their mouths, seemingly wanting to say something.
But the words caught in their throats, and seeing Pakura's unquestionable look, they forcibly swallowed them back.
They were all clear about what choosing to seek refuge with the Daimyō of the Land of Wind entailed.
The relationship between Sunagakure and the Land of Wind Daimyō's manor was already strained. Although the Daimyō-sama was extremely controlling, Sunagakure had managed to retain a considerable degree of independence.
However, returning as "defeated military commanders" would mean that they, the Sand Ninja, would completely lose the independence and autonomy they once had as ninja.
They would become a private military force directly loyal to the Daimyō, "guards" existing under the authority of the nobility.
Their actions, their will, would be directly constrained by the Daimyō, no longer able to earn bounties by taking missions, but dependent solely on the Daimyō for their livelihood.
"We have lost all our bargaining chips and standing ground."
Ebizo sighed. "Konoha has been attacked, and presumably so have the other villages. Looking across the entire ninja world, there really seems to be no better place to settle."
"Pledging allegiance to the Daimyō-sama will cost us our freedom, but at least we can survive."
At these words, complex emotions of humiliation, helplessness, and the desire for survival permeated the hearts of the Sand Ninja.
Pakura took in everyone's reaction. She, too, understood the weight behind this choice.
However, she harbored a quite bold, even presumptuous, thought in her mind, one that she couldn't yet speak aloud.
She did not explain further but turned around first, her figure swiftly moving in a few bounds toward the Land of Wind.
Ebizo took a deep look at Pakura's determined back, then scanned the silent group who ultimately chose to follow, let out a soft sigh, and quickly followed suit.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the Land of Fire's capital, Samurai futilely swung their swords at enemies in the sky.
Their courage seemed pale and powerless against the untouchable flying ninja tools. Only through bows and arrows and the few ninja hired by the Daimyō and nobles could they barely hold their own.
For instance, the Daimyō's "Twelve Guardian Ninja."
Due to differing ideals, Asuma Sarutobi had already been recalled to Konoha, and Yūgao Uzuki had filled his position.
Kitane, one of the Guardian Ninja, wielded a unique three-section black staff, its body coiled with violent lightning, and he violently slammed it onto the ground!
"Lightning Release: Lightning Flash!"
Lightning Release Chakra bored into the earth, then suddenly shot out from underground, striking several Sky Ninja skimming overhead, instantly exploding them into several fireballs!
Chiriku, also a Guardian Ninja, brought his hands together, his face solemn and dignified. A thousand-armed Buddha statue, condensed from chakra, dramatically materialized behind him.
"Welcoming Descent: Thousand-Hand Strike."
Chakra transformed into countless golden fists, raining down upon the sky, shattering a large number of incoming explosive tags and kunai, and instantly blowing up Sky Ninja who couldn't dodge mid-air!
The "Twelve Guardian Ninja" were composed of twelve elite ninja responsible for protecting the Land of Fire Daimyō, serving as the Daimyō's powerful, private, direct force.
Their attacks temporarily checked the rampant Sky Ninja assault.
However, the Sky Ninja were numerous and extremely scattered, and the twelve could not guard every location, only able to focus on defending the capital.
But, right at this moment, an unexpected turn of events occurred.
All the Sky Ninja circling above the capital, as if receiving a simultaneous command, abruptly ceased their attacks.
They unanimously turned their direction and swiftly flew toward Konoha, even with a hint of panic, quickly disappearing on the distant horizon.
They came suddenly, and left strangely.
The threat of the Sky Ninja was temporarily lifted, but what remained was a scorched wasteland and countless miserable wails.
Swish! Swish-swish!
The figures of the Twelve Guardian Ninja instantly converged at the capital's main gate.
The leader, named Kazuma, carried a Japanese tin staff, had long white hair, a scar diagonally across his face, and a conspicuous "Fire" sash tied around his waist.
At this moment, the scene outside the grand capital gate was horrifying.
After the air raid, the first reaction of countless civilians outside the city was to flock toward the Daimyō's manor.
However, how could the Daimyō open the barrier and let in these "commoners" in his eyes?
Outside the barrier, there were bodies of civilians everywhere who had been caught in the explosions. Dismembered limbs were scattered, and blood stained the ground.
The survivors crowded outside the barrier, their faces etched with fear, despair, and helplessness. Cries, wails, and shouts for help merged into a single sound, truly like a living hell.
Chiriku closed his eyes in distress, holding one hand upright before him, softly chanting Buddhist prayers for the deceased, his brows filled with compassion.
"You all stay here; I will report to the Daimyō-sama."
Kazuma ignored the tragic sight outside the barrier, turning around indifferently, and walked straight into the Daimyō's manor, escorted by a squad of Samurai.
Passing through layers of strictly guarded corridors, Kazuma arrived at the deep, most heavily guarded, luxurious palace of the manor.
The sight inside the palace offered a stark contrast to the tragedy outside.
Dazzling, vibrant colors filled the eyes. The floor was so shiny it reflected light, catching the light from the crystal lamps above, creating a dizzying, luxurious spectacle.
Apart from the silently standing, composed Samurai, the hall was filled with high-ranking Land of Fire officials and the Daimyō's direct relatives.
Each one was clad in expensive, meticulously crafted clothing, their faces fair and ruddy from good upkeep. Against the backdrop of the lavish decor, every face seemed glazed with a layer of gorgeous gold powder.
At the head of the hall, a well-maintained, slightly plump middle-aged man was lazily half-reclining on a large, soft couch. This was the Daimyō of the Land of Fire, "Enshōta."
Several beautiful maidens, young enough to be his daughters, danced before him.
They were draped in thin gauze, the transparent material barely covering anything. Their fair, long legs were particularly dazzling in the hazy light.
The light hit their creamy skin, seeming to coat them in a thin layer of gold. The hall was filled with a scent of sweet decadence.
A glance made one feel as if they were in a world built of gold powder and desire, utterly separate from the hellish scenes outside.
Seeing this spectacle, there was no change in Kazuma's expression, as if he was completely accustomed to it.
"Your Excellency." He quickly stepped forward, knelt on one knee a few paces from the couch, and respectfully reported with his head bowed, "The invaders have retreated."
"Hmm, well done."
Enshōta responded languidly, his gaze still fixed on the maidens' graceful dancing.
Incense smoke curled in the hall, and the music was sensual, as if the blood and fire outside were merely irrelevant noise.
Suddenly remembering something, Enshōta narrowed his eyes and asked carelessly: "Has the request for aid sent to Konoha still not been answered?"
"Yes."
Kazuma bowed his head even lower, a cold chill flashing in the depths of his eyes. "As of now, we have received no formal response or troop movement from Konoha."
"Heh heh." Enshōta seemed to smile, but the laugh was dry and cold, devoid of any genuine amusement. The paper fan in his hand was clenched tightly, his knuckles slightly white.
"Last time, when I asked them for people to fill the vacancies in the Guardian Ninja, they made all sorts of excuses about being short-staffed during wartime and unable to spare anyone."
"And now, they even dare to ignore a plea for aid after the Daimyō's manor was attacked, a matter concerning the safety of the Land of Fire!"
His tone gradually intensified, the chill in his words causing the temperature in the hall to plummet.
"Good! Konoha, truly well done!"
The last few words were practically squeezed out through gritted teeth, carrying undisguised fury.
Sensing the Daimyō's almost palpable rage, the maidservant carefully pouring wine beside him flinched, nearly dropping the wine pot, and quickly prostrated herself, trembling.
The dancing girls below knelt in fear, not daring to breathe loudly or look directly at the Daimyō's anger.
Kazuma's forehead was nearly touching the ground, his posture becoming even more submissive, but no one could see the flicker of anticipation, not fear, in his lowered face.
The "Twelve Guardian Ninja" were internally divided into the "Radical Faction," led by Kazuma, and the "Prudent Faction," led by Asuma Sarutobi.
Kazuma and his followers believed the Hokage was an unnecessary position and that real ninja authority should be held by the Land of Fire Daimyō, thus putting them in opposition to Asuma's group.
Not long ago, Asuma Sarutobi left the "Twelve Guardian Ninja" and was recalled to Konoha.
However, due to the tense situation in the ninja world and the appearance of the "Hollows", the "Twelve Guardian Ninja" was recently reformed, and the relationship between the Daimyō and the Hokage was eased.
Now, the Daimyō's growing dissatisfaction with Konoha was exactly what Kazuma wanted.
"Hoo."
Enshōta let out a deep breath, seemingly trying to expel the pent-up frustration in his chest.
He snapped open the delicate folding fan in his hand, the fan concealing the lower half of his face, leaving only a pair of cold eyes visible.
"You may all withdraw," his tone regained its calm. "Kazuma, stay."
Then, as if remembering something, he added: "Clean up that 'garbage' outside the city gate. It's an eyesore."
Everyone knew what he meant by "garbage."
It was the bodies of the civilians who died outside.
"Yes."
The maidservants, dancing girls, musicians, and the officials and relatives who were terrified into silence all bowed in gratitude, their footsteps hurried and chaotic as they retreated from the palace.
The heavy palace doors slowly closed, cutting off the sounds from within and without.
At this moment, the spacious and luxurious hall was left only with Enshōta sitting on the couch and Kazuma, who was still kneeling below in a respectful posture.
"Kazuma."
Enshōta gently tapped his palm with the folding fan, his gaze fixed on Kazuma, and he spoke slowly, with unquestionable authority: "Is your jutsu complete?"
"I paid quite a price to gather enough 'Hollows' as test subjects for you."
Excluding Chiriku, Asuma Sarutobi, and Yūgao Uzuki, who joined the "Twelve Guardian Ninja" to maintain relations between the Fire Temple, the Daimyō's manor, and Konoha,
The other eleven members of the "Twelve Guardian Ninja" were all carefully selected elites from across the Land of Fire.
Four of the twelve—Kitane, Nauma, Seito, and Tōu—were known as the "Lightning Release Four."
Their combined jutsu, "Lightning Release: Thunder Dragon's Storm," was powerful enough to cover all of Konoha, capable of instantly vaporizing all matter within its range.
Kazuma was developing a jutsu called "Earth Release: Ultimate Creation Technique - Soil of the Dead," which could revive corpses in the soil and turn them into the caster's puppets.
However, unlike the "Impure World Reincarnation," its effect was closer to a "Necromancy Summon," only able to drive corpses without self-awareness or the ability to use ninjutsu.
But the emergence of the "Hollows" gave Kazuma an idea...
"Your Excellency." Kazuma looked up, his eyes blazing with fervor. "There has been a breakthrough, but I need more Nine-Tails Chakra."
Years ago, during the Nine-Tails attack on Konoha, he took advantage of the chaos to collect some of the scattered Nine-Tails Chakra and successfully transplanted it into his own child.
He originally intended to create a substitute Jinchuriki capable of wielding Nine-Tails Chakra, similar to the Gold and Silver Brothers of Kumogakure.
But after the appearance of the 'Hollows,' he discovered that the negative spiritual energy contained within the Nine-Tails Chakra had an incredible accelerating effect on the 'Hollow' transformation.
If combined with the "Soil of the Dead," he might be able to control a formidable army composed of 'Hollows.'
"Oh?" Enshōta covered the lower half of his face with his fan, only revealing a pair of eyes twinkling with calculation.
"If I recall correctly, isn't Konoha's Nine-Tails Jinchuriki also reaching the age to graduate from the Academy and become a Genin?"
His words were light, carrying a hint of cold amusement: "How can he become a pillar of talent to protect the Land of Fire if he just stays in the village?"
"Find a suitable reason to bring the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki to the capital."
With that, he gently snapped his folding fan shut with a "clack," his eyes fixed on Kazuma: "I'll leave this matter to you. Make sure it seems natural."
Kazuma bowed deeply, concealing the almost uncontrollable excitement in his eyes: "I will follow your Excellency's command. Your subordinate will arrange it properly!"
The Land of Wind under the night sky was vastly different from the scorching heat of the day.
The boundless sea of sand reflected a deathly sheen under the moonlight. A fierce, cold wind, like a knife, scoured the dunes, kicking up fine grains of sand and emitting a wailing sound.
The vast desert appeared especially desolate, vast, and chilling in the darkness.
Pakura, Ebizo, and the surviving Sand Ninja trudged through this cold sea of sand.
Their original plan was to head straight for the Land of Wind capital, but the last vestige of attachment in the hearts of some in the team prevented them from leaving just like that.
Even a distant, final look at the ruins of Sunagakure would provide a tiny, insignificant satisfaction to their inner unwillingness.
Pakura did not stop this nearly futile persistence, so the group deviated from the direct route to the capital and headed towards Sunagakure.
As the night deepened, only the sound of the wind accompanied this group of homeless exiles. Fatigue, sorrow, and confusion about the future were etched on every face.
"Stop."
After walking for a while, Pakura, leading the group, suddenly stopped, raising her hand to signal the team behind her to halt.
All the Sand Ninja instantly tensed, subconsciously adopting defensive stances, ninja tools quietly sliding into their palms, staring intently at the wind-blown darkness ahead.
Ahead, on a dune not far away, a blurred figure gradually became clear amidst the hazy moonlight and swirling sand.
The person wore a wide straw hat and a wind-blocking cloak, walking slowly toward them.
As the distance closed, the figure's silhouette became clearer.
The wind swept past, causing the veil of the straw hat to flap repeatedly, and the moonlight illuminated the half-face faintly visible beneath the hat...
The pupils of all the Sand Ninja who saw that half-face instantly contracted, their eyes widening in shock.
"Ka-Kazekage-sama?!" A young Sand Ninja couldn't help but gasp in surprise. "You're still alive?!"
At this moment, a spark of hope instantly ignited in their hearts.
If the Kazekage was still alive, Sunagakure still had hope; they would not be rootless wanderers!
Under the shocked and overjoyed gazes of the crowd, the figure slowly walked toward them, getting closer and closer.
However, as he approached, an indescribable sense of eeriness began to spread through everyone's hearts.
His gait, his aura, all felt strangely unnatural.
Finally, he stopped less than ten meters from Pakura and the others.
"I regret to inform you."
A hoarse, low voice emanated from beneath the man's straw hat, distinctly different from the voice of Rasa they remembered.
He slowly raised his hand and took off the straw hat, his complete face exposed under the moonlight.
Then, he looked up at the Sand Ninja before him, slowly twisting his lips into a contorted arc, revealing a smile full of malice and mockery.
"I am not the person you think I am," he slowly licked the corner of his mouth with his slender tongue, chuckling. "But the taste of the Kazekage is indeed quite good."
The moonlight clearly illuminated his face. Reflected in the suddenly dilated pupils of Pakura and the others was a face that could give them nightmares!
The left half of the face was the familiar appearance of Rasa.
However, the right half of the face was completely different!
The skin was a sickly pale, completely bloodless, and the facial features were distinctly different, feminine and eerie, with a pair of snake-like golden vertical pupils!
This face was absolutely familiar to Pakura and Ebizo, who had lived through the Third Great Ninja War!
"Orochimaru?!"
Pakura squeezed the name through her teeth, her voice trembling with horror.
"Heheheh..."
Orochimaru, with half of Rasa's face, let out a low, pleasurable laugh, seemingly thoroughly enjoying the crowd's reaction.
"Your Kazekage-sama is indeed dead," he said slowly in his hoarse voice. "But he will live on forever, in another way."
As he spoke, he slowly raised one hand, and a strand of brilliant and familiar Gold Dust gracefully coiled and flowed between his pale fingers, as if possessing a life of its own.
Seeing that signature strand of Gold Dust, Pakura's pupils suddenly contracted, and an icy chill instantly shot from her feet to the top of her head!
"What have you done?!"
Pakura's chakra instinctively surged, and the temperature of the surrounding air began to rise.
"Didn't I already tell you?" Orochimaru grinned, a cruel glint flashing in his vertical pupils. "The taste of the Kazekage is quite good."
"As expected, this is the true meaning of 'Plunder.'"
Shhh... Shhh-shhh...
As his voice fell, countless figures silently emerged from the pale, moonlight-drenched sandstorm behind him.
Their sheer number occupied almost the entire dune, dense and seemingly endless!
And as the moonlight illuminated these figures, the Sand Ninja's breathing nearly stopped!
The figures were countless pale, sinister White Zetsu, their bodies beginning to squirm and deform like wax figures. Their facial features, height, build, and even clothing were changing!
In a few breaths, standing before them were no longer the pale, eerie White Zetsu, but faces that were incredibly familiar to them!
They were the comrades they had once fought alongside, the friends they had supported on missions, the companions they had drunk with in taverns, and even...
The family members they had personally witnessed die!
"Rasa is dead, but he can still live."
"Sunagakure was destroyed, but it can continue to exist."
Orochimaru swept his gaze over the pale-faced, trembling Sand Ninja, finally landing on the startled and uncertain Pakura, and curved his mouth into a malicious smile.
"Now, make your choice, you remnants of the Sand."
His voice was like an alluring, demonic charm: "Do you choose to let the name of the Sand be completely wiped from the ninja world?"
"Or, do you let Sunagakure continue to 'exist' in another form?"
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