The former site of the Land of Whirlpools.
Even the rain here carried a salty tang, a smell that belonged to death.
The red whirlpool that had once symbolized powerful Sealing Jutsu and immense vitality was now nothing but shattered walls, like the rotting bones of a dead behemoth amid the thick, unending fog.
Minato Namikaze gave a hand signal, and more than a dozen figures melted like phantoms into the cold, damp mist without a sound.
They were the "Levee," a blade freshly honed, still carrying the icy chill of its quenching.
"Spread your sensory coverage. Five-kilometer radius." Minato's voice sounded directly in everyone's mind. This was his evolved ability: a form of telepathic communication based on spatial resonance that could not be intercepted.
"Remember, we're here to clean house, not tear it down."
"Yes."
The unified response was steady and calm.
Nawaki crouched down and gently pressed his palm against a damp, moss-covered stone slab.
He closed his eyes. His vast Wood Release power no longer took the form of a dragon baring its fangs and claws, but became billions of invisible roots that silently probed into the earth.
What he sensed was not the pulse of life, but a kind of... emptiness left after everything had been drained away.
This land was weeping.
"Northeast, three o'clock, underground."
Nawaki's voice held a trace of suppressed anger.
"There are a lot of faint signs of life, like... candles about to go out. They're locked in metal cages."
At the same time, the Lightning Release ninja half-closed his eyes. An almost imperceptible arc of electricity slipped from his fingertip into the damp air like a snake's flicking tongue.
The air carried the despair of their own kind, people being treated as sacrifices and materials.
He remembered the steaming bowl of