From behind a rock high above, Nishikawa Tetsu and Namikaze Minato stared down through the lenses of their gas masks at the battlefield below, which looked like hell.
The sounds of armies clashing had vanished.
Before Salamander Ibuse's deadly poison, everyone was equal: Konoha's shinobi and Amegakure's shinobi alike lay sprawled on the ground.
The shinobi who could still move had all fled from the area shrouded in poisonous mist.
At the center of that deathly silence, only three figures were still struggling to hold on.
"Haah... haah..."
Jiraiya knelt on one knee, gasping for breath. His face was smeared with blood and dirt, and his distinctive white hair was soaked by the rain and plastered to his forehead. His Chakra was nearly depleted, and his hands trembled, but he kept his eyes fixed on the enemy.
To his left, Orochimaru was in no better shape. His normally pale skin had taken on an unhealthy, ashen hue. His golden, slit-pupiled eyes were still cold, but the muscles at the corners twitched involuntarily. One arm hung limp at his side, clearly broken.
Between them, Tsunade was desperately squeezing the last of her Chakra from her body. A green medical glow surrounded the three of them as she used her own life force to maintain their final line of defense.
"Damn it... Is this guy a monster?" Jiraiya ground out. He tried to form Hand Seals again, but his fingers felt as heavy as lead.
Across from them,
Hanzō still stood atop his giant summoned beast.
The Kusarigama in his hand gleamed coldly. Though there were several scorched marks on his body, his breathing remained terrifyingly steady. His eyes, hidden behind his gas mask, looked down at the three young people still struggling below.
He looked at them as if they were three ants still trying to fight an elephant.
"You're still alive?"
Hanzō's voice was low and hoarse as it rang through the rain. "On a battlefield full of poison and death, you can still get back up."
"D-don't underestimate us!"
Jiraiya sprang to his feet and pressed his hands together. "Ninjutsu: Needle Jizo!"
His white hair hardened like steel needles and wrapped around his body like a hedgehog's spines. With a furious roar, he charged at Hanzō, making one last desperate attempt to fight back.
"Foolish."
Hanzō simply swung the Kusarigama in his hand.
"Clang!"
The chain and its heavy iron ball shot out like a serpent, shattering Jiraiya's defense with pinpoint accuracy and slamming into his chest.
"Pfft!"
Jiraiya spat blood and went flying, crashing hard into the muddy water.
"Jiraiya!" Tsunade cried out and tried to rush to him, but Hanzō's Water Body Flicker was astonishingly fast.
In the next instant, Hanzō had appeared right in front of the three of them.
Orochimaru's gaze sharpened.
"Shadow Snake Hand!"
But Hanzō blocked the deadly strike with nothing more than the handle of his scythe.
"Too slow."
Hanzō swept his scythe backhanded, slicing through the rain and forcing Orochimaru back. At the same time, he kicked Tsunade and sent her stumbling backward.
The gap in their strength was despairing.
"So this is... the pinnacle of the Shinobi World?"
High above, Namikaze Minato watched, his palm slick with cold sweat around the Kunai in his hand.
His vaunted speed seemed utterly useless against that flawless offense and defense.
"It's not over yet." Nishikawa Tetsu's voice was calm, but the tension was clear even through his mask. "Hanzō hasn't tried to kill them."
At the center of the battlefield,
the rain fell harder and harder.
Jiraiya, Orochimaru, and Tsunade stood back-to-back. Though they were on the verge of collapsing, none of them chose to run, and none of them knelt to beg for mercy.
In their eyes burned the flame known as the "Will of Fire."
Hanzō looked at the three young people. The scythe he had been about to bring down stopped in midair.
He surveyed his surroundings.
Everyone had fallen in this silent place blanketed by poison.
Everyone but these three.
Their Chakra was spent and their bodies were at their limit, yet they remained planted in the earth like nails.
Those eyes... reminded him of his younger self.
But they were the next generation of Konoha.
The great nations were truly enviable, producing talented people one after another.
"Hmph."
Hanzō suddenly put away his Kusarigama, slowly relaxing his imposing battle stance.
"To have pushed me this far, and at such a young age—you're truly impressive."
"Konoha will probably win this war. I'll let you live."
Jiraiya, supported by Tsunade, said, "We don't need your pity. We can still fight."
"Enough, Jiraiya," Tsunade urged.
"You three are strong, and you've survived even in these circumstances. You've given me quite a bit of trouble. Come challenge me again after you've had some time to grow stronger."
"Tell me your names. That will be the price you pay for your lives."
"Jiraiya!"
"Orochimaru."
"Tsunade."
Though weak, the three spoke their names with unwavering conviction.
"I'll remember your names."
"Jiraiya, Tsunade, Orochimaru..."
Hanzō repeated their names, as if carving them into his memory.
Then, there in the rain, he made a decision that would go down in the annals of the Shinobi World.
"From this day forward, I, Hanzō, will call you the Konoha Sannin."
"Very well."
"The Konoha... Sannin?" Jiraiya was stunned.
"Take that title and cling to life," Hanzō said, turning away. "As long as you live, it will stand as proof of your glory—and the source of your fear."
"This time, I'll let you go."
With a huge splash, the salamander burrowed underground, and Hanzō disappeared into the endless curtain of rain.
The Amegakure forces retreated as well.
On the deserted battlefield, only three wounded young people remained. They had survived the disastrous defeat by the skin of their teeth.
"D-did we... win?" Jiraiya dropped into the muddy water, staring blankly in the direction Hanzō had disappeared.
"No. We lost," Orochimaru said, clutching his arm, his eyes cold. "But we survived."
"The Konoha Sannin..." Tsunade murmured, her expression complicated.
The title was both a disgrace and a medal of honor.
It had been bestowed by their enemy. It meant they had lost to Hanzō, but also that they were the only ones to survive a battle against a demigod.
Behind the rocks high above,
Nishikawa Tetsu slowly removed his gas mask and took a deep breath of air that still smelled of blood, but was no longer poisonous.
"It's over."
He looked down at the three battered figures.
"Today marks the beginning of a new era in the Shinobi World."
"From this day forward, the legendary Sannin have been born. And we're witnesses to the legend."
Namikaze Minato watched the three figures, longing shining in his eyes. "One day, I'll..."
"You will," Nishikawa Tetsu said, patting him on the shoulder. "You'll be even stronger than they are."
The title of Yellow Flash would become a nightmare in the hearts of all their enemies during the Third Shinobi World War.
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