Night fell.
Near the Suna front-line headquarters, the shinobi on patrol pulled their cloaks tighter. They cursed the wretched weather of the Land of Rain under their breath, praying for the day they could leave this damp, miserable hell and return to the village.
The climates of the Land of Rain and the Land of Wind were polar opposites. To those accustomed to the searing dryness of the desert, this place felt like a watery purgatory.
But beyond the weather, what they found truly unbearable was the state of the war.
They had fought for nearly two years and gained nothing. Instead, they had lost an untold number of comrades. Now, rumors were flying through the camp that Suna was about to sign a ceasefire with Konoha and Amegakure before retreating back to the Land of Wind.
Consequently, the remaining Suna shinobi were split into two camps: those who refused to accept defeat and wanted to snatch some last-minute profit before the ink dried, and those who just wanted the nightmare to end so they could go home.
Either way, their focus was no longer on the battlefield.
Many felt that since the war was ending and the treaty was imminent, there was no point in risking their lives anymore. Why push themselves? It was better to just "go through the motions"—clock in, clock out, and wait for the day they could finally go back to the desert.
This lapse in morale manifested in the camp's security. The sentries and patrols were no longer as vigilant as they once were, creating a glaring opening for anyone with the intent to exploit it.
The perpetual drizzle and the thick, low-hanging clouds provided the perfect shroud for a sudden strike.
Hiss... hiss...
A chilling sound—the distinct, dry slither of serpents—was masked by the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain. The sound drew rapidly closer to the Suna sentry posts.
Unprepared and distracted, the Suna guards were picked off one by one, disappearing into the dark as they fell to the fangs of the snakes. Once the last lookout was silenced, Orochimaru emerged from the shadows, flanked by a phalanx of Konoha Jonin, and swept toward the heart of the Suna camp.
They didn't encounter a patrol until they were deep inside the perimeter.
"Who goes there?!"
The Suna ninja only had time to bark out a single challenge before Orochimaru's Striking Shadow Snake Hands tore through the air. The snakes clamped onto their throats, crushing their windpipes before they could even draw a breath to sound the alarm.
In truth, an alarm was no longer necessary. Orochimaru, now standing in the center of the camp, was ready to provide a very thorough "wake-up service."
"Summoning Jutsu!"
Orochimaru bit his thumb and slammed his palm against the ground. In a massive cloud of smoke, Manda's colossal form materialized. The weight of the Great Serpent immediately crushed dozens of tents, turning scores of unlucky Suna ninja into "posters" in their sleep.
"There are nearly two thousand Suna ninja here."
Before Manda could voice its irritation at being awakened, Orochimaru preemptively offered the tribute.
Hearing the number, Manda's drowsiness vanished instantly. It hadn't had a feast this grand in a very long time.
"This isn't just some outpost, is it? This is the Suna main camp," Manda remarked, its intellect sharp as a blade. It knew the risks. There was only one place in the Land of Rain with this density of Suna ninja.
Manda was powerful, but even a Great Summon could find things difficult when faced with a coordinated group of Jonin. Its massive size made it an easy target for a focused barrage of Suna's elemental jutsu.
"Relax," Orochimaru said, his smile turning cruel. "All of Suna's Jonin have already left the camp."
"If you're lying to me, I'll eat you next time!" Manda hissed as its massive body began to coil and strike.
Outside, the Konoha Chunin and Genin, who had been waiting for the signal, heard the chaos and charged into the fray.
"Attack the summon! Focus everything on the giant snake!"
Amidst the carnage, the only remaining Suna Jonin, Renzaburo, ignored the danger to himself and stepped forward to rally his troops.
"Konoha-Style Kenjutsu: Shadow Moon Slash!"
The moment Renzaburo revealed his position, he became a beacon in the dark. A master of Konoha-Style Kenjutsu, a Jonin named Aoyama, had been waiting in Manda's massive shadow. He struck instantly. Under the dim light, his blade flickered between light and shadow, the motion multiplying until it looked like a cluster of shimmering crescents. Finally, it converged into a single, lethal moon that sliced toward Renzaburo.
However, Renzaburo wouldn't have dared to speak up in such a situation if he weren't prepared.
Even though Aoyama's blade was incredibly fast—taking less than a second to burst from the shadows and cleave "Renzaburo" in two—the Suna ninja had already initiated a Substitution Jutsu. The bisected body vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving two wooden logs behind.
"Wind Style: Wind Blade!"
The moment Renzaburo reappeared, he didn't hesitate. He funneled chakra into a rapidly rotating blade of wind and hurled it at Aoyama, catching the Konoha ninja in that vulnerable moment between the end of one strike and the start of the next.
"Earth Style: Earth-Style Wall!"
Unfortunately for him, Aoyama wasn't fighting alone.
The moment he had charged out, a Tokubetsu Jonin named Yazumi Takehito, who specialized in Earth Style defense, was already in position. As Renzaburo's wind blade tore through the air, a solid wall of earth erupted from the ground, shielding Aoyama.
Renzaburo gritted his teeth, refusing to let the opportunity slip away. He roared, pumping more chakra into the technique to increase the wind's curvature, desperate to make the blade arc around the wall.
He knew this was his only chance. Facing a swarm of Konoha Jonin—including Orochimaru, one of the newly dubbed Sannin—he had to kill and then flee immediately. If he lingered, he would never leave this camp alive. He refused to go quietly; he wanted to leave a scar on Konoha that they would never forget.
"Fire Style: Great Fire Annihilation!"
But his final hope was extinguished by Aoyama's other teammate, Sarutobi Hisashi, a Jonin of the Sarutobi clan.
The roaring inferno of the Fire Style didn't completely nullify the wind blade, but it incinerated the air currents Renzaburo was using to guide its curve. Deprived of its trajectory, the wind blade slammed directly into the earth wall. It left a terrifying, jagged gash in the stone, kicking up a cloud of dust, but the strike was halted.
As the Earth-Style Wall crumbled, the damage it sustained vanished with it.
"Damn it! Konoha will regret restarting this war! You'll all regret this!" Renzaburo screamed, his eyes full of hate as he realized his gambit had failed. He turned to flee.
"Heh. Unfortunately, I doubt you'll live to see that day."
A soft, chilling chuckle came from directly behind him, causing Renzaburo's entire body to lock up.
Without him even noticing, Orochimaru had appeared at his back. Cold, serpent-like limbs had already coiled around his torso, and a snake's fangs were pressed against his throat.
Orochimaru's usually cold, slit pupils were burning with a rare, flickering fire.
"When Parashia made his decision, you should have been prepared to follow him into the grave."
His voice was a low, dangerous hiss.
"Besides... my student isn't someone just anyone can touch."