"Half a day?! A great nation was destroyed in half a day?!"
The head of Iwagakure's intelligence department completely cracked his throat, like a rooster having its neck stepped on.
He fell flat on his backside onto the bluestone floor tiles.
The rough porcelain teacup in his hand shattered with a crash. Scalding tea splashed onto the back of his foot, but he didn't feel any pain.
A sharp scream shattered the deathly silence of the underground conference room.
Dozens of high-ranking members of the Iwagakure Sect swarmed around like a disturbed nest of wasps.
The chair overturned on the ground, its wooden legs clattering together.
A usually composed and steady senior staff officer lunged at the large screen on the wall, his face almost pressed against the glass panel.
The screen froze on the image of the Daimyo 'Daimyo of the Land of Wind being crushed by the train tracks.
The old staff officer pointed with trembling hands to the edge of the screen.
"Look at those track tracks! Look at the spacing between these armored vehicles!"
Cold sweat trickled down the old staff officer's forehead, down his wrinkles, and dripped onto the screen frame.
He turned around abruptly and grabbed the large abacus from the table.
The wooden beads crackled and popped as I struck them; my fingers moved so fast they were almost blurry.
"Three hundred heavy armored vehicles were deployed along a one-kilometer defensive line."
The abacus beads suddenly stopped moving.
The old staff officer raised his head, his eyes bloodshot.
"Pushing them across the entire border of the Land of Wind... that would require tens of thousands of vehicles!"
He gripped the edge of the abacus with both hands and snapped it open.
"Crack." The rosewood abacus frame was snapped in two. The abacus beads flew out and bounced wildly against the ceiling.
"This is not iron that a human could forge!"
The old staff officer was panting heavily, spittle flying into the air.
" Konoha has hidden over a million soldiers! Where did they get so much steel?!"
The logistics supervisor next to him was gripping his hair so tightly that his scalp was pulled until it bled.
"Impossible! Tens of thousands of iron carts, the amount of oil and Chakra they burn in a day could drain a small country dry!"
"Where did Konoha get its industrial capacity?! Did they hollow out all the mountains in the Land of Fire?!"
The meeting room was in complete chaos.
Someone stumbled and ran outside, bumping into the door frame.
Someone slumped in a chair, muttering, "It's over."
Panic is like a plague with legs.
Following the wind, it swept through the streets and alleys of Iwagakure and Kumogakure in just a few hours.
Late at night, behind Iwagakure.
A cold wind blew across the bare stones. The sound of the wind was like the wailing of ghosts.
Three Iwagakure Chunin, carrying gray cloth bundles, ran towards the outside of the mountain under the cover of night, their feet treading on the gravel path.
The leader didn't have a torch. His foot struck a protruding rock.
"Clatter."
He fell flat on his face, his chin slamming hard against a sharp rock.
The skin and flesh rolled back. Fresh blood gushed out instantly, smearing half of his chin.
The ninja tool pouch at his waist came undone. A dozen or so Kunai fell into a crevice in the rocks, making a crisp metallic clanging sound.
He didn't pick it up. He didn't even wipe the blood from his chin.
He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his companion's sleeve as he continued running.
"Why stay and wait to die if you don't run?"
He lowered his voice and roared; his voice trembled.
" The Land of Wind was gone in half a day. That's a great power! A great power with the natural barrier of the desert!"
His fingers were digging into his companion's forearm so hard that his nails dug into the flesh.
"Long time!"
My companion, carrying a bundle, followed behind, panting heavily, his legs trembling uncontrollably.
"The people of Konoha are monsters... They sit in iron shells and don't even form hand seals."
The third Genin was a teenager. He ran so fast that he lost a shoe and cut himself barefoot on the gravel.
"Captain... where are we going?" the child asked, his voice trembling with tears.
"Anywhere is fine! Just avoid those metal lumps!"
The captain gritted his teeth and dragged the two men into the darkness of the deep mountains.
Above the mountain path.
A Iwagakure from Jonin stood in the watchtower.
He looked down at the three men fleeing below, a crossbow clutched in his hand.
The crossbow bolt was chambered. The arrowhead was poisoned, gleaming with a blue light.
According to village rules, anyone who deserts in the face of battle will be executed without mercy.
The Jonin raised his crossbow and aimed at the captain's back.
The index finger is on the trigger.
The wind blew by, carrying a faint rumble from a great distance.
That was the echo of tracks crushing the earth.
The Jonin's hand trembled.
Click.
The crossbow bolt missed, striking a dead tree trunk beside the mountain path, its fletching buzzing wildly.
He put down the crossbow and leaned against the wooden pillar.
His legs slid down the pillar, and he collapsed onto the wooden planks of the watchtower.
He didn't want to shoot a second arrow.
What's the point of shooting deserters?
Tens of thousands of steel tracks would roll over and flatten this mountain.
Morale is something that can be felt in the very second you're watching a live stream.
It was blasted to smithereens by Konoha's smoothbore cannons, leaving not even a trace.
That night, 30% of the border outposts in Iwagakure and Kumogakure were empty.
The night watchman lost his clapper. The gatekeeper Genin threw away his Forehead Protector.
Nobody chased after them.
Even the officers leading the group were stuffing rations into their packs.
Iwagakure. Tsuchikage Building.
The door to the Tsuchikage's office was tightly closed.
Ōnoki was sitting in a wheelchair.
His spine was broken into three pieces by a knee strike from Shu Shiraishi in the Land of Iron.
Now, from his chest to his thighs, he was tightly wrapped in a thick white plaster cast.
The plaster shell was hard and heavy, making it hard for him to breathe.
It was wrapped in large cotton bandages.
A coal stove was burning inside. The air was filled with the pungent smell of traditional Chinese medicine for bruises and soot.
Ōnoki rested his hands on the metal armrests of the wheelchair.
Ten short, thick fingers, twisted from excessive force.
The fingernails scratched at the sheet metal, making a "crunching" sound.
He tore off half a fingernail. Blood seeped out, but he didn't let go.
He stared intently at the huge war zone map in front of him.
The map was laid out on the table, its edges secured with thumbtacks.
A thick red line was drawn on it.
That was the advance route of Konoha's mechanical forces.
The red line resembles a giant python that has sucked its fill of blood.
It has already swallowed up the entire yellow sand region that represents the Land of Wind.
A straight arrow. Without any detours.
The defensive line was brutally torn apart. Now, the arrow is firmly pressed against the southern border of the Land of Earth.
"Huff... huff..."
Ōnoki was breathing heavily. His lungs were making a bubbling sound like a broken bellows.
A gust of cold wind rushed in through the shattered window.
The wind blew on my forehead. It was icy cold.
He then realized that he was covered in cold sweat.
Sweat streamed down his wrinkled old face.
It slid past the corner of my eye and into my beard.
It dripped onto the bandage on my chest.
The thick cotton cloth was soaked through and clung to my skin, feeling wet and cold.
Ōnoki shivered.
He stared at the red line, his heart pounding in his chest.
A country was destroyed in half a day.
At this rate of advance, is Konoha's logistics team out of their minds?
Tens of thousands of heavy tanks, the fuel and Chakra they burn in a single day could drain a small country dry!
How did they manage to do that?!
Ōnoki clenched his teeth, the grinding sound making them grating on the teeth.
My gums are bleeding. A metallic taste lingers in my mouth.
"Monster..."
He managed to squeeze out two hoarse words.
He's lived for over seventy years. He's seen it all.
In his youth, he followed the Second Tsuchikage and faced Madara Uchiha's Susanoo.
He was afraid then, but it was out of awe for the strong.
Even the strongest person is still made of flesh and blood.
Humans get tired, they get breathless, Chakra gets depleted.
But Konoha's emotionless, mechanical army never gets tired.
As long as they have oil and ammunition, they can fire 24 hours a day.
Cold steel, relentless tracks.
How could a mortal like Shi Ren possibly stop the twelve rows of Explosive Tag rocket launchers?
Ōnoki's hands began to tremble.
The wheelchair swayed with his body. Clang, clang.
Fear, like a cold snake, had tightly coiled around his neck.
Outside the door.
Suddenly, a series of heavy, disordered footsteps sounded.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Someone was running wildly down the corridor. Their military boots slammed against the wooden floor, causing dust to fall from the walls.
Ōnoki suddenly raised his head.
Breathing has stopped.
"Bang!"
The heavy oak door was smashed open with tremendous force.
The brass door hinges let out a miserable scream under the strain and snapped.
The door slammed heavily against the wall, shaking off a piece of plaster the size of a washbasin, sending white dust flying everywhere.
A tall, burly man stumbled into the house.
Kitsuchi. Ōnoki's biological son. An elite Jonin from Iwagakure.
The Kitsuchi looks terrible now.
His brown, Iwagakure vest was now nothing more than a pile of tattered strips.
On his left shoulder, there was a horrific gash, half a foot long, with the flesh rolled back on both sides.
His white shoulder blades were exposed.
Blood streamed down his thick arm, dripping onto the office's wooden floor.
"Clatter. Clatter."
Kitsuchi was panting heavily. His face was covered with black ash and congealed blood clots.
He gripped the carpet tightly with both hands, trying to stand up.
My right leg suddenly cramped up, and my knee buckled.
"Thump."
He knelt down heavily again, his knees slamming onto the wooden board.
"Father!"
Kitsuchi's voice was completely hoarse. His shouts were filled with a distorted, mournful tone.
He suddenly raised his head.
His eyes were so red they looked like they were about to bleed, covered with spiderweb-like blood vessels.
"Border defense line..."
He swallowed a mouthful of bloody saliva.
"It's broken!"
A loud "buzz" went through Ōnoki's mind.
It felt like a bomb had exploded inside my skull.
He gripped the wheelchair armrests tightly with both hands, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.
"What did you say?!"
" Konoha's Steel Monster!"
Kitsuchi coughed violently, spitting out a mouthful of thick, bloody phlegm that landed on the edge of the blueprint.
"They haven't stopped at all! They didn't even rest after attacking the Land of Wind!"
He dug at the carpet fibers with both hands; his fingernails broke.
"Thousands of iron carts drove right over the boundary marker."
"Our outpost was bombarded to the ground before the alarm even sounded."
The voice of Kitsuchi was tinged with a desperate sob.
"They're heading towards Iwagakure!"
Ōnoki opened his mouth wide and inhaled deeply.
The cold wind rushed into my lungs, causing a sharp, scraping pain.
"Where are the troops at the front! Where are the five thousand garrison troops!" Ōnoki roared.
Kitsuchi shook his head, tears mingling with blood streaming down his face.
"It's useless... it's completely useless."
" Earth Release techniques hit sheet metal, but they don't even leave a dent."
"The machine gun array on their roof was firing at a rate so fast it was impossible to see. Anyone who peeked out was instantly obliterated."
The Kitsuchi slammed its fist onto the floor.
"The defensive line didn't even hold for ten minutes. They're all dead!"
Ōnoki stared intently at his son on the ground.
The flames in the coal stove inside the room flickered, illuminating his deathly pale face.
He bit down and broke one of his right molars.
"Click."
He forced down the bloody, broken tooth, his throat burning with pain.
Several thousand elite troops couldn't hold out for ten minutes.
This is to completely flatten Iwagakure from the earth.
Humiliation, fear, and the rage of being driven to the brink.
It instantly burned away the last shred of reason in Ōnoki's mind.
He gripped the wheelchair armrests tightly with both hands.
The Chakra within his body surged like boiling steel, relentlessly eroding the broken meridians of his lumbar spine.
The excruciating pain distorted his facial features completely.
"Ah--!"
Ōnoki let out a dying roar, like a wild beast.
Spit sprayed onto the war zone map in front of him.
The excruciating pain caused his body to spasm. Sweat instantly soaked through his dry undergarments.
But he gritted his teeth and forcibly activated the Earth Release Chakra within his body.
" Light-Weight Rock Technique!"
Chakra backlash. Two streams of blood suddenly gushed from his nostrils.
Blood flowed into his white beard.
But the heavy plaster cast, along with his lower body, slowly lifted him out of the wheelchair.
Ōnoki swayed and floated in mid-air.
My body trembled like a tattered rag in the wind from the pain.
He nearly hit his head on the wooden beam of the ceiling.
His eyes bulged out and were filled with terrifying red blood vessels.
Like a crazed old lion cornered.
He looked down at the corridor door, his gaze piercing through the walls and towards the southern border.
Two withered hands clasped together abruptly in front of his chest.
"Smack!"
Their palms slammed together. Their knuckles were pale.
I refuse to believe it!
Ōnoki roared, his vocal cords ripping, the sound carrying a harsh, bloody stench.
A frenzied white light began to gather in his palm.
"No matter how thick the tank's armor is!"
He stared intently into the distance.
"Can it withstand my Dust Release Escape?!"