"I got held up a bit on the way."
Kiyohara quickly made his way to stand beside Rin, Kurenai, and the others.
In war, every second mattered—and every bit of power gained could be the difference between life and death.
He turned to look at the man standing at the center of the crowd:
Orochimaru.
To be honest, Kiyohara had only seen Orochimaru from afar before.
When he'd received that 100,000 ryō "sponsorship" from Orochimaru, he had been… surprised.
If his surname were Uchiha, he might've suspected Orochimaru was trying to stab him—literally and metaphysically—just to take over his body.
After all, Orochimaru had spent three full years grooming Sasuke just for the chance to seize his Sharingan-infused body, only to fumble the bag in the end.
Of course, Orochimaru wasn't quite that unhinged yet. Right now, he was still merely interested in the Sharingan and working with Shimura Danzō.
It wasn't until he encountered his eternal nemesis, Itachi, that his obsession with the Uchiha turned into madness.
"Everyone, quiet down."
Orochimaru stood atop a hastily assembled wooden platform. His golden vertical-slit pupils scanned the crowd, emanating pressure that quickly silenced the buzz of conversation.
As one of the Legendary Sannin, Orochimaru's presence alone was more than enough to command attention.
"Everyone is present."
His raspy voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to every ninja present.
"Recently… Kirigakure has grown unsatisfied with simply harassing our borders. They've begun testing how far their claws can reach into the Land of Fire itself."
His tongue flicked out unconsciously, as if anticipating something delicious.
"You should all be well aware of how precarious our current situation is… but the village needs us."
No lies there.
With all the great nations warring, the Land of Fire—richest and most fertile in the ninja world—had become the juiciest target of them all.
Currently, Konoha only had an advantage in their conflict with Iwagakure.
On all other fronts, they were under siege—by Kirigakure, Sunagakure, and Kumogakure.
Their forces were nearing collapse.
The war had entered the "resource attrition" phase.
Every ninja lost… was one that couldn't be replaced.
The academy simply couldn't graduate genin fast enough to cover the monthly death toll.
"In order to counter a possible large-scale invasion… we need to construct a coastal defense line. And all of you…"
Orochimaru's gaze swept across the entire assembly again.
"Will be assigned to various frontline sectors."
A low murmur of tension rolled through the crowd.
The storm clouds of war were thickening.
Orochimaru ignored the stir and unfurled a scroll, reading off the assignments.
Kiyohara pricked up his ears once he heard his team's name.
"The following squads will be sent to the remains of Uzushio to establish a forward observation post. Your mission is to monitor Kirigakure's movements—and launch early-stage strikes if necessary."
The ruins of Uzushio?
Kiyohara's eyes narrowed.
Once the homeland of the Uzumaki clan, that place was now a shattered island nation.
Geographically, however, it was a key location—facing the Land of Water directly. A perfect site for a front-line defense.
But that also meant: extreme danger.
"Kiyohara, have you ever done missions around Uzushio before?"
Kurenai asked curiously.
"No, never been there."
Kiyohara shook his head.
The ruins of Uzushio weren't even on the mainland—they were dozens of miles off the coast, on a massive island.
Though considered a "small nation" like the Land of Waves, its territory was dozens of times larger.
"I haven't either…"
Rin whispered beside him.
While the two whispered, Orochimaru finished reading the list and dismissed the crowd.
But just as Kiyohara was about to leave—
"Kiyohara, stay behind. Come to my tent."
Instantly, every head in the area snapped toward him.
Kurenai froze in place, her crimson eyes full of confusion.
Even Kakashi's usually dead-eyed stare widened a little.
Why would someone like Orochimaru take an interest in Kiyohara?
Kiyohara's thoughts spun rapidly, but he kept a calm face.
"Yes, sir," he answered, stepping forward.
He followed an ANBU toward the central command tent.
Not far away, Genma Shiranui twirled a senbon in his mouth and muttered:
"This kid… is he really about to make it big?"
He had mixed feelings. Just a while ago, he'd worried Kiyohara would die due to lack of strength.
Now it looked like the guy had caught the eye of the upper echelon.
As the saying goes: 'You worry your brother's struggling—but also kinda hate it when he rolls up in a Lambo.'
Inside the tent, the lighting was dim.
A few oil lamps cast long shadows against the canvas.
Orochimaru sat in the center, fingers steepled beneath his chin, golden snake eyes watching Kiyohara with amused interest.
"Orochimaru-sama."
Kiyohara bowed respectfully.
"Hehehe…"
Orochimaru chuckled lowly.
"No need to be so stiff, Kiyohara-kun. I'm just… curious about your impressive performance."
He leaned forward slightly.
Reviewing Kiyohara's records revealed a lot—his sensory abilities exceeded standard, he had notable talent in both Wind and Lightning Release… and now apparently swordsmanship too?
This level of ability clearly surpassed that of most chūnin.
Killing Ao only confirmed it.
"I've heard you spent nearly all your mission rewards—and even my personal bonus—on tools and gear. You even owe the village a small loan?"
Kiyohara's heart skipped slightly.
As expected, nothing escaped a man like this.
But he calmed himself and answered frankly:
"Yes, Orochimaru-sama. Better equipment means a better chance to survive.
For a shinobi, the most important thing is… staying alive."
He didn't say anything lofty like "for the Will of Fire"—just gave the most practical answer possible.
After all: If you're dead, it's game over.
And Kiyohara seriously doubted Orochimaru gave a damn about the Will of Fire.
Most likely, he saw other people as nothing more than test materials.
And who bothers to remember how many bread rolls they've eaten?
"Interesting… A very pragmatic mindset."
Orochimaru was visibly intrigued by that answer.
He had asked many shinobi this same question before.
Most answered with "for the Hokage," or "for the village."
But the more war dragged on, the more narrow-minded ninja became—brainwashed into viewing themselves as mere tools.
Orochimaru thought that was foolish.
To him, everything in the world was like a windmill—it only became interesting when set spinning by outside force.
So when someone gave him an answer that wasn't brainwashed, he noticed.
"And what do you live for?"
His gaze sharpened.
It was a question he himself was still exploring.
"To witness more brilliance… and grasp more truth."
Kiyohara answered seriously.
He knew what Orochimaru liked to hear—and fed it to him.
Like writing fake calligraphy to impress a boss who's into ink art—you make it look dramatic, even if it's terrible.
In truth, Kiyohara just wanted to survive long enough to collect more "last wills," gain new powers, and keep growing.
He mentally calculated the time it would take to reach the ruins of Uzushio: just over a week.
It was a long march, and they'd be hauling supplies.
So as long as he didn't die on arrival, and lasted a week at the front—
He'd receive another "Last Will."