The spectacular rebellion of the three clans came to an end with no victors, only blood everywhere and endless sorrow.
Only Naruto, hidden behind the scenes, reaped every reward and swept away every obstacle, continuing to play the role of the supreme sun of the Shinobi World.
As the battlefield was cleared completely, the barrier enveloping the three clans' entire residential district slowly lost its glow, dissolving bit by bit into the air.
The lockdown that had confined them all night vanished entirely, and the routes to the outside reopened.
Severely wounded and missing an arm, Konohamaru stood amid the devastated ruins. He looked at the corpses strewn everywhere, the shattered, collapsed houses, and the few dozen surviving clanspeople trembling with hatred in their eyes. The last shred of attachment in his heart shattered completely.
He had nothing left to cling to.
Enduring the excruciating pain of his severed left arm, Konohamaru clenched his teeth. His figure abruptly blurred as he used the Body Flicker Technique.
With a whoosh, he vanished from the ruined Sarutobi Clan Compound and raced toward the outskirts of Konoha.
His path remained unobstructed the entire way.
Not one of Konoha's sentries or patrolling shinobi tried to stop him. No one even took the initiative to investigate.
It was as though the entire Konoha High Command had tacitly approved his departure from the beginning, deliberately leaving him a route to escape.
Konohamaru ran through the Konoha Gate before finally coming to a stop.
He slowly turned and gazed back at the village where he had grown up.
The streets gradually grew lively again, as though the entire night of clan slaughter and internal bloodshed had never happened.
The familiar village now felt unbearably strange and cold.
Konohamaru looked at Konoha's towering Hokage Rock, at the carved