Snowstorms raged across the Land of Iron.
The samurai nation, which had remained neutral for years, was now gripped by extreme tension. Outside its thick stone walls, freezing winds hurled shards of ice against the windows with sharp, rattling cracks. Inside its most prestigious conference room, however, the air was so stiflingly hot that it made people want to peel off their skin.
A corner of the round table had already been smashed off-a masterpiece left by the Raikage's earlier outburst.
"This is what that lunatic sent us?"
Raikage A pressed his only remaining hand, his right, against the table, veins bulging as he nearly ground the thin sheet of paper to dust. His empty left sleeve still throbbed with phantom pain, a testament to Kumogakure's humiliation.
Two documents lay side by side on the table.
The one on the left was a declaration of war that Obito Uchiha had delivered through White Zetsu. Its contents were blunt and brutal, essentially saying: I'm launching the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Hand over the Eight-Tails and Nine-Tails if you don't want to die, or I'll steamroll you all.
The one on the right was an "invitation" from Flame Emperor City. Its wild, scrawling handwriting radiated arrogance: A meeting in Flame Emperor City in one month. Fail to attend, and your village gets slaughtered.
"One wants to turn the world into a giant illusion-based online game. The other wants to pen us up like slaves."
Ōnoki floated in midair, his aged face as wrinkled as dried orange peel. Only his upper body remained, attached to a specially made levitation device below. It looked ridiculous, but no one could laugh. Even Iwagakure's landmark mountain peaks had been sheared flat. These days, he slept with one eye open, terrified that the black-clad scourge would sneak in at