[One of the Sannin, Tsunade, has been successfully captured!]
[An interdimensional S-rank Waifu Summon has been obtained!]
[Bonus reward delayed: awaiting unlock of your Shadow Monarch power!]
"Huh? What does that mean?"
I stopped in my tracks, frowning as the system interface slowly faded from my vision.
The main quest should've been marked as completed. I had repelled Konoha's forces, defeated the Legendary Sannin in battle, and sealed an agreement with them. I should've received my bonus reward10 shadow soldiers… but nothing.
The message was clear: Reward delayed.
That could only mean one thing.
"That means… the enemy isn't finished yet. The war isn't over."
I turned toward Tsunade, who was walking a few steps behind me, arms crossed.
"Tsunade Senju. Your ninjas are still plotting something, aren't they? There's a trap nearby."
She raised an eyebrow, her face marked by fatigue and days of relentless combat.
"Huh? What are you saying, old man? Konoha has always kept its word. Our troops have withdrawn. It's over."
We were slowly making our way toward the heart of Amegakureor at least what was left of it: my home, the house of the "Shadow Monarch", now repurposed as a temporary headquarters. The debris still smoked around us, and the stench of scorched metal and burnt flesh lingered in the air.
The discussion had ended amicably. No treaty had been signed, but a fragile tension persisted. Tsunade was no longer officially a prisoner; she was a special guest of Amegakure. A living symbol of a desire for peace.
But for how long?
Around us, Ame's ninjas were trying to pull wounded civilians from under the rubble. Others were counting the dead. The work was slow. The muffled cries of children, the moans of the injured, the heavy silence of those who had lost everything… It was unbearable.
I clicked my tongue, annoyed, then snapped:
"You see what your precious Konohagakure has caused?"
Tsunade lowered her eyes, for the first time without replying. But I saw her fists clenchproof that my words had hit the mark.
"It's war," she finally said, her voice deeper. "There are no good guys or bad guys. Your people chose to fight too. You bear some responsibility."
I didn't respond. She wasn't entirely wrong. But she wasn't right either. The battlefield had been forced upon my people.
And that… I couldn't forgive.
...
Meanwhile… Suna's Border – Arid Windlands
Even though Tsuchikage Ōnoki had officially withdrawn his forces, tensions between Konoha and Suna were far from resolved. The war had shifted.
An irreversible act had just been committed.
The legendary Sakumo Hatake, known as Konoha's White Fang, had killed one of Suna's highest-ranking shinobi: Chiyo's son, the elite puppeteer. A legend in Suna.
This crime would not go unpunished.
As he silently made his way through the sandy canyons toward Ame's border, Sakumo was intercepted.
"So, you're Konoha's White Fang, huh?" came a female voice, laced with murderous intent.
A slender figure, with green hair tipped with orange and sun-kissed skin, emerged slowly from the sandy fog. She wore the traditional uniform of Suna's special forces, her forehead protector strapped to her thigh.
Pakura.
The prodigy of the new generation. Master of the rare element: Shakuton the Scorch Style.
"You killed Chiyo-sama's son. For that, you'll die here."
Sakumo slowly drew his tantō, eyes cold and resolute. He knew fleeing was no longer an option. She was dangerous. And he was tired. After killing over fifty enemies, he needed rest.
"I'm not trying to justify myself. But if it's a fight you want… come."
Without warning, she lunged at him. The sand swirled behind her like a miniature storm.
Pakura aimed a spinning kick at his face. Sakumo barely blocked it with his forearm, stumbling from the impact. She was fastfar too fast for a regular chūnin.
He responded with a feint: a thrust of his tantō to her side, followed by a knee to her chest. She pivoted nimbly, dodging the blade, and struck his right leg with a lightning-quick elbow.
Pakura immediately followed up, exploiting the opening. She spun around, sweeping low to throw Sakumo off balance. He jumped back, but she anticipated his move and dove forward, fist aimed at his sternum.
Bam!
Sakumo blocked just in time, arms crossed in defense, but the blow sent him skidding backward, his feet gouging the sand.
"This strength… She's hiding something," he thought, feeling a strange heat radiating through his armor.
Without giving him a moment's rest, Pakura activated her Kekkei Genkai. Orange flames enveloped her hands, spiraling into a searing orb. With a flick, she unleashed a scorching wave of fire.
Sakumo ducked out of the way, feeling the heat lick past his face. He retaliated with three shurikens, followed by a Shunshin no Jutsu to reappear behind her, blade raised.
But Pakura was already turning. She grabbed his wrist mid-swing, using his momentum to hurl him to the ground. Sakumo rolled, barely avoiding a fiery heel that crashed into the spot where his head had just been.
"She's reading my moves?"
He spat out some blood and grinned. "Alright then. Let's play for real."
With a swift hand seal, he cast Kai to dispel the residual burns, then launched into a flurry of lightning-fast attacks.
A frenzied exchange followed, their figures blurring from sheer speed.
Pakura tried to create distance, but Sakumo cut through the wind with a thunderous slash.
Suddenly, Sakumo feinted low, then leaped upward, landing a spinning kick square in her chest.
Pakura was thrown back but caught herself, flipping onto her hands.
She smirked, wiping a smear of blood from her lip. "Let's see you keep that up."
Their chakras clashed violently as they dashed for the final round.
Pakura leapt backward, already forming hand signs:
"Shakuton: Shakunetsu Tama!" (Scorch Style: Blazing Heat Orb)
A glowing orb of searing heat formed in her hand and shot straight at Sakumo. He rolled aside, dodging it by a hair's breadth. The point of impact vitrified the sand.
He growled.
"She uses an element that can dry up cells… One direct hit, and it's over."
Sakumo repositioned, eyes locked on every movement she made.
He knew he'd have to kill again to survive
…something he never truly enjoyed.