Chapter 224: Delivery Service
The air in the hidden refuge was thick with the scent of damp earth and cold fear. The frantic ANBU agent, still panting from his sprint, had just delivered his report. The words hung in the silence, stark and unbelievable.
"Jiraiya... has fallen in battle."
Koharu Utatane, known as the elder Koharu, felt the world lurch. Her knees, frail with age, threatened to buckle. She gripped the edge of a rough-hewn wooden table, her knuckles bleaching white. The strategic mind that had once served alongside the Second Hokage was now a scrambled mess of denial and dread.
"It cannot be," she whispered, the words a dry rustle. "Not Jiraiya... He was one of the Sannin! Is this Uchiha Ren truly a demon god incarnate? Is the village our ancestors built with their blood and dreams... to be wiped out today by the Uchiha's cursed rebellion?" Her voice rose, shrill and cracking, losing all composure. "No! It's impossible! IMPOSSIBLE!"
Age and a decades-long addiction to the comforts of power had eroded the ninja she once was. The elite kunoichi who could calmly assess a battlefield was gone, replaced by a terrified old woman whose only strength now was the authority she wielded over subordinates. Unlike Danzo, who had coupled his lust for control with a relentless honing of his own power, Koharu had let her skills atrophy entirely. Faced with a real threat, she was utterly defenseless.
A pall of despair fell over everyone in the bunker. Jiraiya had been a symbol of Konoha's unyielding spirit, a legendary figure they had unconsciously relied upon. His death wasn't just a loss; it was the shattering of their last bastion of hope. If the Toad Sage could not stop this Uchiha, who could?
"Koharu! Get a hold of yourself!"
Homura Mitokado's voice, though strained, cut through her hysteria. He, too, was pale, the news a physical blow. But where Koharu shattered, Homura hardened. He had navigated countless crises with the Second; panic was a luxury they could not afford. The fire of his youth was long banked, but the embers of a seasoned commander still glowed.
"Losing our heads will only get us all killed," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We must think."
It was a small mercy that Tsunade was unconscious nearby, her body broken and her chakra exhausted. To learn of Jiraiya's death now, in this state, would have broken her completely. In the quiet corners of her heart, far from the public eye, Jiraiya was more than just a teammate or a persistent suitor. He was a constant, a familiar warmth in a life defined by loss. After the deaths of her brother and her lover, she had built walls to protect herself, and him, from more pain. Now, that final wall had been obliterated.
Under Homura's stern gaze, Koharu forced a shaky breath. She straightened her robes, attempting to project an authority she no longer felt. A fine sheen of cold sweat on her brow betrayed her true state. She turned to the waiting ANBU, her voice trembling with a forced imperiousness.
"You! Rally all ANBU and Root operatives! Every last one! I want Uchiha Ren and Uchiha Sasuke found and eliminated! These Uchiha traitors must not be allowed to live! Their existence is a cancer upon Konoha! Go, now! That is an order!"
The masked ANBU bowed sharply. "Hai!"
With the Hokage incapacitated, the elders' word was law. He turned on his heel, his form blurring as he channeled chakra for the Body Flicker Technique to carry out the command.
He never made it to the door.
A streak of red light—faster than thought—intercepted his path. There was no sound, only the wet, sickening tear of flesh. The ANBU agent stumbled, his hand flying to his throat where a thin, precise line had opened. He gurgled, a fountain of crimson life spilling through his fingers, and collapsed to the cold stone floor, his mission eternally unfulfilled. He died without ever seeing his killer.
The entire refuge froze.
All eyes, wide with horror, were drawn to the entrance. There, standing calmly over the fresh corpse, was the very specter they had just condemned. Uchiha Ren held the Meteor Blade loosely, a single drop of blood tracing a path down its gleaming edge. His chilling gaze swept across the terrified faces before locking, with finality, onto the two elders.
A slow, merciless smile spread across his face.
"You don't need to waste the effort looking for me," he said, his voice echoing softly in the tomb-like silence. "I've delivered myself right to your doorstep."
He had followed the panicked messenger straight to the heart of their hiding place, a wolf who had let the lamb lead him to the flock.
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