At the same time, dozens of miles away.
Three thousand Iwagakure elites are advancing quietly in the night.
They wore dark night clothes and their footsteps were so light that they almost made no sound.
The ninja tools are all wrapped in cloth to prevent reflection. Everyone knows the importance of this mission, to surround and kill Uchiha Shaoyu, the monster that caused Konoha's tragic defeat.
Ōnoki is suspended in mid-air, its short body almost invisible in the night.
But his chakra is like a beacon, guiding the team's direction.
Behind him are twenty of Iwagakure's most elite Jonin, Kitsuchi, Akatsuchi, Wenya, Kari, Kakko... each of them is a strong man who can stand alone.
Behind them are three thousand well-trained elite ninjas. They are divided into thirty teams, each with one hundred people, led by a jounin, who cooperate tacitly and advance and retreat in a controlled manner.
This is the family background of Iwagakure.
This is the entire bet that Ōnoki is betting on.
"Father."
Kitsuchi spoke softly, with a hint of worry in his voice, "Do we really have to surround him with so many people to kill him? Isn't it too..."
"What's too much?" Ōnoki didn't look back.
"You... think too highly of him?" Kitsuchi considered his words, "After all, he only has twenty-one people."
Ōnoki was silent for a moment.
"Kitsuchi." His voice was hoarse, "Do you know Uchiha Madara?"
Kitsuchi was stunned.
"I know." He said, "The legendary ninja, the legend of the Uchiha Clan."
"Legend..." Ōnoki murmured.
"When he was still a young boy, he and Senju Hashirama founded Konoha. Later, he challenged the entire Shinobi World by himself, which made Five Great Nations frightened. At that time, how many people did we Iwagakure send to surround and kill him?"
Kitsuchi said nothing.
He doesn't know.
"Five thousand." Ōnoki said, "Five thousand people, plus Tsuchikage personally led the team at that time. Do you know the result?"
Kitsuchi's heartbeat skipped a beat.
"What was the result...?"
"Five thousand people came back with less than a thousand." Ōnoki's voice was calm, but every word was as heavy as a stone, "Tsuchikage was seriously injured and lay in bed for half a year. Uchiha Madara... unscathed."
Kitsuchi's breathing stopped.
"Uchiha Shaoyu, now is certainly not as good as Uchiha Madara back then." Ōnoki continued.
"But he is young, and he still has decades to grow up. If he is allowed to go back alive, in another twenty years, he will be the next Uchiha Madara."
He paused.
"Kitsuchi, what do you think we, Iwagakure, will do to stop us when the time comes?"
Kitsuchi was silent.
He finally understood why his father was betting everything.
It's not that I think highly of him, but that I'm afraid of him.
I'm afraid that he will grow up, that he will become the second Uchiha Madara, that he will bring Kumogakure to level Iwagakure in the future.
"I understand." he said.
Ōnoki nodded.
"Keep going." He said, "We must arrive before dawn."
The team of three thousand people continued to advance quietly in the night.
They didn't know that twenty miles away, the target they were besieging was immersed in the transformation of power.
They don't know what kind of terrifying existence they will face in a few hours.
They just moved forward silently, waiting for that moment to arrive.
Kumogakure camp.
Shaoyu is still sitting cross-legged in the big tent, motionless.
The orange-red light was getting brighter and stronger. It had penetrated the tent and illuminated the surrounding area of dozens of feet.
Twenty jonin were sitting around the tent, with their backs to the light and their faces to the darkness, watching the surroundings with vigilance.
They don't know that danger is approaching.
They only know that Lord Shaoyu is undergoing some kind of transformation.
They just need to wait and wait.
Waiting for the red figure to stand up again.
Shaoyu's breathing became long and deep, and each breath lasted for half a quarter of an hour.
The rhythm of the breathing was synchronized with the orange-red light, as if resonating with the mysterious power.
His heartbeat was also changing, from the normal seventy beats per minute, to gradually dropping to sixty, fifty, forty beats... and finally stabilized at around thirty beats per minute.
That is the heartbeat of a beast, the heartbeat of an apex predator.
Outside the tent, twenty jounin could clearly hear the heartbeat.
Boom... boom... boom...
(Emperor Engine this one.)
The sound was low and powerful, penetrating the curtains of the tent and the silence of the night, like a war drum beating.
Every heartbeat made their hearts beat, as if being pulled by some force.
"Shaoyu-sama..." a jounin murmured, his eyes full of awe.
One day and one night.
A full twenty-four hours.
The twenty Jonin stayed outside all day and night, not daring to blink.
They didn't know what was happening in the big tent, but they could feel that a powerful aura was emanating from it.
The aura was getting stronger and more oppressive, making them, the old subordinates who had followed Shaoyu for many years, feel an instinctive awe.
Finally, when the twenty-fifth hour arrived, the red light began to fade.
The light that shrouded the entire tent shrank toward the center like an ebbing tide, and finally merged into the device suspended in mid-air.
The device rotates slowly, emitting a faint orange-red light.
Then, it stopped.
Shaoyu Open your eyes.
At that moment, the air in the entire tent seemed to freeze.
His eyes did not change, they were still those calm black eyes. But his whole aura was completely different.
If one day ago he was a sharp sword, then now he is a majestic and motionless mountain.
It was an aura that was extremely restrained and even more terrifying.
He raised his hand and made a fist lightly.
The moment the muscles contracted, there was an explosion in the air. The sound was caused by the fist being clenched too fast and too hard, squeezing the air.
He let go of his hand and flexed his fingers.
That feeling... is so wonderful.
Every finger is full of strength, every joint is flexible, and every muscle obeys command.
He stood up and walked to the corner of the tent, where his Fangtian Halberd was placed.
He held the halberd pole with one hand and lifted it gently.
Fangtian Halberd weighs about 80 kilograms, so it usually requires a little effort to use it.
But at this moment, the eighty kilograms of weight was as light as nothing in his hands, and he couldn't even feel any weight.
He waved his halberd, and the tip of the halberd sliced through the air, making a sharp sound.
Fast.
Too fast.
The same strength, the same skills, but due to the improvement in physical fitness, the speed is at least twice as fast.
He put down Fangtian Halberd and walked to the center of the tent.
Take a deep breath.
The air was filled with various scents, including the fragrance of the vegetation in the distant forest, the dry smell of the nearby sand, the smell of sweat on the bodies of the jounin, and... further away, the smell of rust on the bodies of Iwagakure Ninja.
"Iwagakure's little monkey, you came just in time."