Chapter 81- The Calm Before the Storm
Within the echoing silence of the cave, a new resolve took shape.
Nagato knelt beside Yahiko's lifeless body, Konan's quiet sobs still lingering in the shadows. The air was cold, but it wasn't the wind that chilled the bones—it was the weight of their loss, the suffocating grief that clung to every heartbeat.
And yet, Nagato's face was still.
Slowly, almost reverently, he drove a black chakra rod into Yahiko's chest.
"Yahiko is not gone," he murmured. "He is still with us."
The black rod pulsed once—an eerie surge of chakra coursing through it—and then…
Yahiko's eyes opened.
But they were no longer his.
What stared back were cold, rippling orbs—the Rinnegan. The very same eyes that now rested in Nagato's skull. A symbol not just of power, but of something far more terrifying.
Control.
Konan's breath hitched. She could feel it immediately. This was not revival—this was possession. Her fingers trembled, heart caught between mourning and horror.
But Nagato's voice remained quiet and calm, like a storm waiting behind closed doors.
"Yahiko will always be with us. And we will bring peace to the world. Not the peace born of words, but of pain. Only suffering can unify this world."
He looked out toward the rain-dark horizon beyond the cave entrance, his eyes void of light or doubt.
"Let the world feel pain."
---
News of Hanzo's death tore through the Five Great Nations like a kunai through paper. Whispers carried by informants, messengers, and merchants began to harden into facts. In every tea shop and supply depot, in the barracks of soldiers and the council chambers of leaders, one name ignited every conversation.
Kazane.
The man who singlehandedly walked into the Rain Village and killed Hanzo the Salamander—the so-called Demigod of the Shinobi World. A man once feared for defeating the Legendary Sannin.
And now? Gone.
At first, people refused to believe it.
But within a day, the truth spread like wildfire.
---
Kumogakure – Office of the Third Raikage
Lightning cracked in the distance as a warm wind blew across the peaks of the Hidden Cloud. Inside the thick, stone-lined walls of the Raikage's office, tension simmered like thunder before a storm.
"Lord Raikage," came the firm voice of Blue B, the Eight-Tails Jinchūriki. "The intel just arrived."
He held a scroll, edges still damp from the rain outside. The moment he handed it over, the Third Raikage's sharp eyes scanned its contents.
It didn't take him long.
"So… Hanzo's dead," A muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Killed by Kazane Hatake… and not with poison, not with deception—but head-on, in a duel."
He leaned back in his chair, thick arms crossed over his massive chest, a rare glint of excitement in his gaze.
"That brat from Konoha… he might actually be worth fighting."
Blue B, calm as ever beside him, added, "We should consider aligning with Iwagakure. Even that fox Ōnoki understands the threat Kazane poses. A temporary truce may benefit us both."
A scoffed, teeth gritting with disdain. "That old stone worm's only afraid I'll take his village once I'm done with Konoha."
Still, after a long pause, he nodded.
"Fine. Tell him we'll hold off. But only until I crush the Leaf."
"And what about the Iwa envoy?" Blue B asked with a raised brow. "He's still in our dungeon."
The Raikage's grin widened.
"Let him out. Let him crawl back to Ōnoki and deliver the message himself."
---
Kumogakure Dungeon
The cell door screeched open.
Scar, the Scorch Release shinobi from Iwa, sat in the corner—half-starved, bruised, and burning with rage.
Blue B stood at the entrance, arms folded.
"You're free. Lord Raikage has agreed to a temporary ceasefire… for now."
Scar rose unsteadily, hunger and humiliation flickering in his eyes.
"You'll regret this," he muttered.
Blue B didn't flinch. "Maybe. But we'll regret it together, on the battlefield."
With nothing more to say, Scar turned and limped out of the dungeon.
Outside, the skies of the ninja world darkened further.
One storm had ended.
Another was about to begin.
---
Konoha – Hokage's Office
The air in the Hokage's office was heavy, thick with silence and unspoken tension.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk, his hands folded, his expression shadowed by worry and weariness. His once-sharp gaze was dulled by age and burden, his pipe lying forgotten beside him. Every breath he took seemed weighed down by the consequences of choices made long ago.
To his left sat Homura Mitokado, arms crossed tightly, face pinched with concern. On his right, Koharu Utatane leaned slightly forward, lips pressed into a thin line, as though holding back her frustration. Together, they formed the advisory core of the village—yet even they now looked uncertain, as if their authority was being slowly pried from their hands.
Across from them, seated in a wheelchair, was Danzo Shimura.
His body was frail, a relic of recent wounds, but his eyes—sharp, cold, calculating—burned with silent ambition. He made no effort to stand or appear strong despite having recovered enough. He knew better.
The weaker I look, Danzo thought, the more guilty Hiruzen becomes. And the guiltier he feels, the more leverage I'll have when this is over.
He sat in deliberate stillness, wrapped in bandages and blankets, the very picture of a loyal soldier who had suffered for his village.
But his mind was far from still.
Root still lacks elite bloodline shinobi. A few Hyuga from the branch family, maybe even an Uchiha candidate or two... And the civilian ranks could use new blood. Once this Kazane matter is resolved, I'll have Hiruzen 'approve' their transfer. Quietly, of course.
The old war hawk's thoughts moved like blades—efficient, cold, and merciless.
Hiruzen, meanwhile, stared at the reports before him but didn't read a single word. His mind reeled with unease. The tide of the war, the political maneuvering within Konoha, Orochimaru's growing influence—everything was slipping beyond his grasp.
What have I done…?
Danzo broke the silence first, his voice rasping through the room like a cold draft.
"You've always been too soft, Hiruzen. That's your weakness."
He leaned forward slightly, every word delivered like an accusation.
"I warned you about this from the beginning. Orochimaru is not like us—he's too ambitious. And Kazane? You should have given him to me!"
Danzo's thoughts drifted back to the Academy's training grounds—when he first witnessed Kazane unleash his raw, terrifying talent.
If only I had pushed harder back then. If Kazane had been placed under Root's supervision, I could have sealed him properly. Controlled him. Shaped him into Konoha's ultimate weapon… my weapon.
He clenched his hand beneath the blanket draped over his legs.
With his power, I would have seized the Hokage seat long ago. The Council would have begged me to take it. Instead, Hiruzen handed him to that snake… and now look at the mess we're in.
His gaze flicked to the aged man behind the desk, and he bit back a sneer.
That title should have been mine.
But what Danzo never realized—what he refused to acknowledge—was the truth Hiruzen had always believed.
Danzo is not a leader. He is the shadow that protects the flame. He was never meant to stand in the sun.
And yet, now… even Hiruzen was beginning to doubt his own decisions.
Orochimaru's reach was spreading. Kazane had already defied orders once. The clans were whispering. The ANBU were restless. War was closing in.
And for the first time in years, Hiruzen could not see the end of the path ahead.