Salamander Hanzo

Ōnoki didn't even think twice; he immediately aborted the charging of his Particle Style, forcing his body into a near-impossible mid-air roll to narrowly dodge the pitch-black staff that grazed his cheek.

The black staff vanished into the high-altitude clouds, shrinking and disappearing as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind only shredded wisps of vapor.

"Damn it... my poor back..."

As Ōnoki winced and rubbed his lower back, he kept his eyes locked on the figure slowly emerging from the shadows below.

"Sarutobi Hiruzen..."

On the ground, Sarutobi Hiruzen stood clad in dark battle armor, gripping his signature Adamantine Ruyi Staff. Though his stature was short, he radiated an imposing aura that commanded respect without a word.

His mere presence standing there was enough to boost the morale of his troops significantly.

"It's the Hokage!"

"The Hokage himself has arrived! It's time to strike back!"

"You guys are finished!"

Thunderous cheers erupted from the Konoha ranks.

The exhausted ninjas were as if injected with a shot of adrenaline. One by one, they straightened their backs, their morale soaring.

Floating in the air, Ōnoki looked down at the cheering Konoha ninjas, then glanced at his own Iwagakure forces, whose morale had plummeted to rock bottom.

The young Iwagakure ninjas wore faces etched with fatigue and unease, some even stealthily inching their feet backward.

"..."

Ōnoki remained silent for a moment, the muscles in his face twitching a few times before he finally, and most reluctantly, raised his right hand to signal a retreat.

"Retreat."

"Father... we..."

Kitsuchi was nearly exhausted to the point of collapse, barely able to stand while being supported by two Iwagakure ninjas.

He watched Ōnoki slowly descend from the sky and begin organizing the battlefield withdrawal, hesitating before he spoke.

"Use titles while on duty!"

Ōnoki's mustache twitched as he glared unhappily at his strapping son.

"Yes, Tsuchikage-sama."

Kitsuchi corrected himself immediately, his attitude becoming formal.

"Hmph..."

Ōnoki nodded in satisfaction, stroked his beard, and floated into the air, heading toward the command tent.

Inside the temporary Iwagakure command center, the group felt somewhat dejected that they hadn't managed to take down Konoha in one fell swoop.

But a small-scale victory didn't mean everything.

Battle reports could be deceptive, but the front lines never lied.

"Tsuchikage-sama."

"Tsuchikage-sama."

The moment Ōnoki floated into the tent, everyone spontaneously stood up and bowed slightly, their voices filled with genuine respect.

Seeing this, Ōnoki stroked his beard with immense satisfaction.

"Yes... sit, no need to stand."

He drifted to the head seat and sat down, his gaze sweeping across those present as his lips slowly curled into a meaningful smile.

"Our next goal is to continue pushing the front line and take down Konoha step by step."

"So what if the Third Hokage has arrived?"

"He still won't be able to withstand our Iwagakure offensive..."

Ōnoki suddenly chuckled, his laughter laced with a sense of certainty.

The high-ranking Iwagakure officials in the command room looked at each other, confused as to why the Tsuchikage had suddenly started laughing.

But soon, someone joined in, and before long, the entire tent was immersed in a joyful atmosphere.

"Is Iwagakure finally going to successfully defeat Konoha under my leadership..."

"I bet Konoha doesn't even know they have a mole in their ranks yet..."

Ōnoki stroked his beard, a sharp glint flashing through his cloudy, aged eyes.

Ever since the Kannabi Bridge was destroyed by Namikaze Minato's team, he had intended to stop fighting Konoha.

The order to withdraw had already been drafted, just waiting for an opportunity to be announced.

Then, one day, a scroll had suddenly appeared on the desk in the command room.

The scroll contained everything: Konoha's logistics supply routes for the period, precise troop deployment changes for every squadron, and a wealth of mission intelligence.

It was clear, concise, and detailed to a terrifying degree.

At first, Ōnoki thought it was a trap set by Konoha.

Such an obvious intelligence leak was either a sign of extreme stupidity on the part of the enemy, or a poisoned bait meant to lure them into a trap.

But to his surprise, several probing ambushes had all ended in complete victory.

The Konoha transport teams walked into the ambush circles completely unprepared, and the strength of the escorting ninjas matched the intelligence reports down to the last detail.

And the most recent piece of intelligence even accurately predicted the departure time and route of the Third Hokage.

He just hadn't expected it to come so quickly...

"But these are just minor interludes..."

"The Root of Konoha has already rotted away."

Ōnoki looked out the window at the gray, hazy sky, as vines of "ambition" grew wildly in his heart.

"Iwagakure will eventually return to greatness in my hands."

"And Konoha can slowly wither away in its own internal strife."

The moon hung high.

Konoha, Hyuga clan compound.

Silvery moonlight poured down, dyeing the quiet courtyard in a cold, desolate hue.

Hyuga Qinglan sat cross-legged on the veranda, holding a small, transparent container in his hand.

Inside the container, a pair of pale blue Byakugan eyes floated quietly in a special nutrient solution. The patterns on the pupils were fainter than those of ordinary Byakugan, as if they had been washed by something.

The color had shifted from pure white to a pale blue, resembling two polished glass beads, exuding an unreal beauty.

"If only I could transplant these eyes of mine to Qing..."

Hyuga Qinglan whispered, gently stroking the surface of the container.

"But a puppet is, after all, just a puppet."

"If I want to make a puppet come back to life..."

Hyuga Qinglan set the container down, his white eyes reflecting the clear moonlight, deep as two bottomless ancient wells.

His thoughts drifted to the forbidden jutsu developed by Chiyo of Sunagakure.

One's Own Life Reincarnation.

It was a forbidden jutsu created by Granny Chiyo to resurrect the parents of Sasori of the Red Sand.

It directly grants one's own life energy to a puppet or inanimate object, allowing an existence without a soul to gain "life."

The price is the life of the caster.

"I wonder if Chiyo has finished developing this jutsu by now..."

Hyuga Qinglan pondered, his gaze shifting to the shadows of the trees not far outside the courtyard.

There, an Anbu member wearing a Monkey Mask landed silently on the ground.

The next second.

"Lord Qinglan."

Hyuga Mukai appeared on the veranda via Body Flicker, kneeling on one knee, his voice kept extremely low.

"Lord Danzo has issued a mission for you."

"He requires that after you recover from your injuries, you accompany Aburame Ryoma to Amegakure to demand that Salamander Hanzo mobilize his troops immediately."

"Mission objective: Demand that Amegakure attack Iwagakure from the rear to resolve the decline on the battlefield."

"He says this is your first mission to acquire ninjutsu resources, and if you fail... Lord Danzo will abandon you."

"If you succeed... Lord Danzo will provide you with more training resources so that you can better realize your value."

Salamander Hanzo?

Hyuga Qinglan narrowed his eyes slightly, the moonlight falling on his pale profile, creating a contrast of light and shadow.

It seems... he would also make a fine puppet...