Dark clouds loomed over the outskirts of Amegakure, and killing intent filled the air.
The ground had yet to dry after the rain. In the muddy camp, densely packed ranks of ninja rose and fell like waves.
Rough tents, weapons lined up in formation, and patrolling sensory ninja sealed off the outskirts of Amegakure completely.
War drums boomed like rolling thunder, each beat striking straight at the heart, setting blood racing and nerves on edge.
On a hastily erected wartime command platform, the Kage-level powerhouses from each nation had already taken their places.
The Fourth Raikage frowned, lightning release chakra spilling from his body at intervals, his face full of displeasure.
"What's going on? Why is Orochimaru here too?"
"What fighting strength could those Sound Ninja possibly offer?"
His voice was rough, his contempt undisguised. It struck like a massive hammer, leaving the surrounding ninja afraid to speak.
Among the Cloud Ninja behind him, Darui wore a conflicted expression. He seemed to be weighing his words, but ultimately said nothing.
Ōnoki slowly raised his head. His aged face remained calm and thoughtful, and his voice was low but firm.
"Fourth Raikage, you underestimate Orochimaru. He's one of Konoha's legendary Sannin."
"Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru. Each shines in their own right; together, they're a formidable enemy."
"You should be grateful he's on our side."
Those words instantly stifled the atmosphere.
The nearby ninja exchanged looks, none daring to make a rash move.
Orochimaru wore a purple-and-black robe. His face was pale as paper, an unreadable smile curled at his lips, and his gaze was cold and fathomless.
After hearing Ōnoki's assessment, he laughed in a husky, beguiling voice.
"Old Tsuchikage, you certainly haven't lived this long for nothing. You know just what to say."
"As for whether I can actually help..."