Wood Release Emerges, Shocking the Higher-Ups; A Tug-of-War for Control

No one responded.

The tender sprout that had emerged from a crack in the floor was still growing. Not quickly, but without stopping. It curled around a table leg, climbed onto the edge of the Third Hokage's desk, and unfurled a leaf beside the stacks of papers.

Homura Mitokado planted the tip of her cane against the floor, exerted force through her wrist, and took half a step back.

Behind his glasses, Koharu Utatane's pupils contracted. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

The Third Hokage remained where he stood. He did not retreat.

But beneath his sleeve, his fingers had quietly settled on the summoning seal for the Adamantine Staff.

Nawaki saw it.

Not bad, old man. You still want to fight?

He did not complete the hand seal, but his chakra surged outward in a fierce wave.

It was not killing intent. It was vitality.

Pure, dense Wood Release chakra, so thick it was suffocating, radiated from Nawaki's body in every direction.

The papers on the Hokage's desk were swept into the air. The Hokage hat on the Third's head flew off with a smack, rolled twice into the corner, and landed upside down on the floor.

The cracks in the floor widened into a web of fractures.

Thick roots burst from beneath Nawaki's feet with a series of cracks. They did not attack anyone. Instead, they circled Kushina once, forming a wooden barrier half the height of a person.

The roots flowed in smooth patterns, their tips faintly raised like the head of a coiled dragon.

Kushina stood in the center of the fledgling Wood Dragon, surrounded by the warm scent of wood. She raised her head and looked at the tangled roots before her, her heart skipping a beat.

This power was not aimed at her. It was—protecting her.

Homura took another step back until her back pressed against the wall. She had lived through the era of the Second Hokage and witnessed great wars, but the pressure brought by this chakra reminded her of someone long dead.

Hashirama Senju.

"Enough." The Third spoke.

His voice was steady, but his fingers slipped away from the summoning seal beneath his sleeve. It was pointless. He knew very well that if Nawaki truly completed that seal in this office, whatever he summoned could overturn the entire Hokage Building.

A direct clash was not worth it.

Hiruzen Sarutobi had lived for most of his life, and what he did best was calculating the cost.

"Nawaki, if you have something to say, say it plainly."

Nawaki released half the seal, clasped his hands behind his back, and tilted his head.

"Grandpa Hokage, you asked me about Wood Release just now, and I answered honestly. The moment the two advisors came in, they started shouting about killing and fighting. I haven't even had the chance to tell you the real matter."

The Third sat back down, bent over to pick up his hat, and placed it on the desk.

"Speak."

"That explosive tag trap on the front lines," Nawaki said unhurriedly, "the Sand ninja leader shouted after setting it off, 'The intelligence from Konoha's higher-ups was indeed accurate.'"

The office fell silent for three seconds.

Homura's eyelid twitched violently. Koharu adjusted his glasses and pressed his lips together even more tightly.

The Third's expression did not change, but the fingers beneath the desk stopped moving.

"You mean—"

"I mean, how did the Sand ninja know my route? Why was that trap planted precisely along the path I had to take?" Nawaki said with a smile. "Orochimaru-sensei was less than two hundred meters from me. Why didn't he intervene to save me?"

He never mentioned Danzō by name, but every word pointed in that direction.

The Third said nothing.

Nawaki was in no rush either. He waited five seconds before speaking again, his tone light and casual.

"I don't blame you, Grandpa Hokage. After all, you might not have known what was happening at the front lines. But tonight—"

He raised a hand and pointed out the window.

"Tonight, those four Root members at the village gate came to seize someone with a 'higher-up's order.' Did you not know about that, or are you pretending not to know?"

The Third tapped the desk once.

Just once.

That was the sign that he was about to lose his temper. But Hiruzen Sarutobi had been Hokage for decades. Before getting angry, he had to calculate one thing—whether it was worth it.

The boy before him was twelve years old and had awakened a Wood Release that had been lost for decades.

His chakra reserves were still rapidly rising, already at least at the level of an elite jonin.

He carried the pure Senju bloodline, a direct descendant of the First and Second Hokage. Half the village would naturally stand on his side.

If things fell apart tonight, then news would spread tomorrow—"The Third Hokage forced the First Hokage's grandson to hand over his kin." Would his seat still be secure?

More importantly, he could vaguely sense something from Nawaki.

The same unshakable thing his teacher Hashirama Senju had possessed.

It was not chakra. It was conviction.

The Third exhaled and raised his hand.

"Homura, Koharu, leave."

"Hiruzen!" Homura grew anxious. "You can't—"

"Leave."

The Third did not say it a third time. The two advisors exchanged glances, then left the office with dark faces. The door slammed shut behind them.

Only three people remained in the room.

The Third leaned back in his chair and looked at Nawaki. After a moment of silence, he said:

"Kushina may live at the Senju Clan Compound."

Nawaki did not speak, waiting for the rest. As expected—

"But the Nine-Tails seal must be inspected once a month by a sealing specialist appointed by me. Also—" The Third raised one finger. "You will submit a written report on the progress of your Wood Release training once every quarter."

So this was a deal.

He would take the person; the Third would take the information.

Nawaki calculated it in his head. The seal inspections could be dealt with, and the written reports could be made up however he liked—after all, the Third could not verify how far his Wood Release had truly progressed.

A broad smile instantly bloomed across his face, bright and sunny, innocent and harmless.

"Thank you, Grandpa Hokage! I'll take good care of Kushina and do my part for Konoha's future!"

The Third looked at that smiling face and felt his teeth ache.

Thirty seconds ago, Nawaki had nearly overturned his office with Wood Release. Now he was calling him Grandpa again.

This brat was harder to deal with than the First and Second combined.

Nawaki headed for the door.

After taking two steps, he turned back to look at the Third and spoke in an extremely serious tone.

"Grandpa Hokage, the Senju Clan and Konoha are one. As long as no one touches my family, I will always be Konoha's most loyal ninja."

Konoha's most loyal ninja.

The Third turned those words over in his mind, his face expressionless.

Nawaki reached out and took Kushina's hand.

Kushina froze for a moment. She watched his dry, warm hand wrap around her fingers, then let him naturally pull her toward the door.

As they passed through the corridor, Homura and Koharu, waiting outside, stared at them with the eyes of poisonous snakes.

Nawaki smiled at them. "You two have worked hard, staying late to work overtime."

After they stepped out of the Hokage Building, the night wind rushed over them, and Kushina finally spoke.

"Why... why did you help me?" Her voice was very soft.

"I told you, the Senju and Uzumaki are family."

"Just because of that?"

Nawaki looked down at her. The red-haired girl was gazing up at him, her eyes rimmed red, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Not just because of that." Nawaki lowered his voice. "From now on, no one will call you a 'strategic resource' anymore. At the Senju Clan Compound, you're called Kushina."

Kushina's vision blurred.

She blinked hard twice, turned her head away, and muttered, "Walk faster. It's cold standing here."

But her hand tightened around his.

The Hokage's office.

After the sound of their footsteps faded away, Hiruzen Sarutobi sat alone for a long time.

The cracks on the desk, the roots not yet fully withdrawn from the floor, the documents blown all over the room.

He picked up his pipe and found that his hand was trembling. Not from fear. From anger.

A twelve-year-old child had displayed Wood Release before him, wielded intelligence from the front lines as a blade, and forced him into a corner.

And he had actually backed down.

The Third rose and opened the window.

Cold wind poured in.

"Someone."

An Anbu silently dropped down from the shadows.

"Two orders. First, immediately send a carrier pigeon to Jiraiya. Tell him to find Tsunade at all costs and bring her back to the village."

The Anbu paused. "Lady Tsunade has been away from the village for years. I'm afraid—"

"Tell her her younger brother was nearly blown to death at the front lines." The Third closed his eyes. "She'll come back."

The Anbu vanished.

The Third opened his eyes again and looked in the direction Nawaki had left.

"The second order."

His voice was nearly squeezed out through clenched teeth.

"Send a surveillance squad to watch the Senju Clan Compound twenty-four hours a day. Do not approach. Do not make contact—"

"I want to know who that brat sees every day, what techniques he practices, and what he says. Not a single word is to be missed."