Lure the Tiger from the Mountain, Murderous Intent on the Eve of the Storm

Nawaki crouched amid the pile of mangled flesh and turned the black sealing scroll over.

A set of miniature formation markings had been carved into the back of the scroll. They were not sealing formulas. They were Spatial Coordinates.

He traced the markings with his fingertip. The instant his chakra seeped in, the entire scroll burst apart—not in an explosion, but disintegration. The ink on the paper turned to ash and scattered, revealing a copper nail embedded in an inner layer.

Traces of space-time ninjutsu fluctuations lingered on the copper nail.

They were faint. But his Sage Body could detect them.

Nawaki spun the copper nail between two fingers, then crushed it.

"A teleportation marker." He rose to his feet.

Mikoto did not understand. "What?"

"This test subject didn't crawl out from underground on its own. Someone used a variant of Flying Raijin to teleport it here from somewhere else, into the Forest of Death." Nawaki shook the copper fragments from his hand and dusted off his palms. "Teleporting a living person takes chakra, and even more so with space-time ninjutsu. At minimum, it would require three sealing specialists at jōnin level working together."

Kushina Uzumaki panicked. "Then—"

"Danzō has at least three sealing specialists under him." Nawaki's voice remained flat, but he was speaking faster. "Using the same technique to teleport over a dozen Root elites directly to the perimeter of the Four Red Yang Formation—how long do you think that would take?"

Mikoto's expression changed.

"He's not trying to kill me." Nawaki lifted his head and looked toward Konoha Village. "He knows he can't kill me in the Forest of Death. That test subject had only one job—to keep me here."

"My sister is alone—"

"She can't hold them off alone."

Nawaki said nothing else.

He turned and ran.

He did not use Wood Release to pave the way. He simply ran on his own two legs. With his Sage Body pushed to full output, every step blasted a crater into the ground. Wind howled past his ears as the trees streaked backward.

Kushina Uzumaki and Mikoto followed.

The three of them sprinted through the dense forest for forty seconds before Nawaki abruptly stopped.

Something was flashing among the trees ahead.

Not people. A technique.

A densely woven barrier net blocked their path, large enough to seal off an entire small ninja village. Its markings were completely unlike the Four Red Yang Formation—crude, violent, and bearing Root's unmistakable hallmarks.

"A trapping formation." Mikoto's Sharingan spun once. "At least three layers. The outer layer slows us down, the middle layer disrupts chakra perception, and the inner layer..."

"What about the inner layer?"

"I don't know. It's too dense. I can't see through it."

Nawaki stared at the barrier net for two seconds.

Then he brought his hands together.

"Nawaki?" Kushina Uzumaki felt the ground trembling beneath her feet.

It was not a minor tremor. The entire forest was shaking.

"Move." Nawaki forced the word through clenched teeth.

He crouched and pressed both palms flat against the ground.

Chakra poured out.

"Wood Release: Continuous Pillar House Technique."

A dull boom rang out.

No, not one boom. A continuous barrage of dense, heavy impacts, like a pile driver.

The ground began cracking beneath Nawaki's feet. Wooden pillars as thick as arms erupted from the fissures, extending sideways and locking together to form a broad road five meters wide.

The road blasted straight toward the Central Tower.

The trees in its path—shattered.

The barrier net—pierced through.

The traps buried along the route—flipped aside along with the earth and their mechanisms.

A large forest beast that charged into their path—sent flying by the pointed tip of the wooden road, spinning three times through the air before crashing into the bushes.

It was as though an invisible giant had drawn a line across the entire Forest of Death with a ruler. From its edge to the Central Tower, a straight wooden passage now cut through the whole testing ground.

—Central Tower monitoring room.

Orochimaru stared at the crystal ball, his tongue frozen halfway out.

The three examination assistants behind him all rose to their feet.

The image in the crystal ball showed a grayish-white road stretching from the forest's edge all the way to the base of the Central Tower. Rows of snapped giant trees lay toppled along both sides, dust filled the air, and fallen leaves fluttered everywhere. Three people were sprinting down the road at full speed.

One assistant swallowed. "Is he... building a road through the examination grounds?"

No one answered him.

The corners of Orochimaru's mouth slowly curled upward.

Less than ten minutes later.

The doors to the Central Tower's first-floor hall were kicked open.

The wooden doors split into four pieces and flew into the hall, smashing over two tables.

Nawaki stood in the doorway, his breathing steady and not a drop of sweat on his forehead. Behind him, Kushina Uzumaki bent over with her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. Mikoto looked fine, though her hair had been blown into disarray by the wind.

Two teams that had already passed the test had been resting in the hall. Now, they all stood and stared at the three at the entrance.

Nawaki pulled out the Heaven Scroll and Earth Scroll from his pocket, walked to the registration desk, and slapped both scrolls onto it.

"Passed."

The registrar frantically flipped through the records. "Y-you, you're the—"

"Our rank doesn't matter." Nawaki turned around.

At the stairway, Orochimaru leaned against the railing with his arms crossed, his snake-like eyes half-lidded.

Nawaki walked over and stopped three steps away from him.

"Danzō's people have surrounded the Senju Clan Compound. You know."

Orochimaru neither denied nor admitted it. He tilted his head. "This is during the examination. Contestants are not permitted to—"

"I asked whether you knew."

Orochimaru fell silent for a second.

He sensed what lay behind those words. It was not a threat, nor was it anger. It was pure, unadorned killing intent.

Like the kind Madara had felt when Hashirama stood in the Valley of the End—the kind that said, If you block me for one more second, I'll walk right over you.

Orochimaru stepped aside and cleared the stairway.

"Please, go ahead, Nawaki-kun."

Nawaki did not look at him. As he passed by, he tossed out one sentence.

"Tell the Third for me—he'd better already be on his way to the Senju Clan Compound. Otherwise, after tonight, Konoha can have one less Hokage or one less old dog. He can choose for himself."

Orochimaru watched the three figures disappear through the hall's doors.

He licked his lips.

"Interesting."

—The hall remained silent for quite a while.

In a corner, a Hidden Sand ninja who had passed the test quietly asked his teammate, "Are Konoha's exams... always this exciting?"

No one answered him.

—Konoha Village.

Three hundred meters north of the Senju Clan Compound.

Seventeen Root ninja had already formed a battle formation outside the Four Red Yang Formation.

The leader had only one arm. Danzō had wrapped his severed arm in three layers of bandages and covered it with a loose black robe. He stood at the rear of the group, his left hand resting on a short blade.

"The formation's weak point is the third anchor point at the southeast corner." Danzō's voice was hoarse. "Break the barrier first, then—"

He did not finish.

Because a tremendous impact came from inside the Four Red Yang Formation.

Tsunade's fist slammed into the inner wall of the barrier. Golden chakra spread along the formation's markings, and the entire barrier flashed for an instant.

She stood atop a roof in the Senju Clan Compound, looking down at the black-clad figures outside the barrier.

"Danzō."

Tsunade's voice pierced through the barrier and echoed across the night sky.

"How many people did you bring this time? Did losing one arm last time not teach you a lesson?"

Danzō said nothing.

The knuckles of the hand gripping his short blade turned white.

—At the same time.

At the other end of Konoha Village. The Hatake Estate.

Thirty or forty people crowded the street in front of the estate. There were ninja and civilians. Some held rotten eggs, while others held cloth banners with words written on them.

"Traitor!" "How many people did you get killed?" "Commit seppuku and atone!"

The curses rose one wave after another.

The estate gates were tightly shut.

Inside the gates.

Sakumo Hatake knelt on the wooden floor before the hall. A white short blade lay before him, its clean blade reflecting the candlelight.

His son, Kakashi, was not home. Earlier that day, Sakumo had sent him away under the pretense of having him buy something.

Sakumo stared at the short blade for a long time.

The shouting outside rose another level. Someone began pounding on the gates.

Sakumo reached out and gripped the hilt.

He slowly drew the short blade.

The sound of the blade leaving its sheath was soft, completely drowned out by the uproar outside.

The candle flame flickered.

Sakumo turned the blade point toward his own abdomen.

"I'm sorry, Kakashi."

He closed his eyes.