SideCharacter
patreon
Chapter 324-Propaganda
🕑 Added 2024-12-18 18:59:57 +0000 UTCThe chill of the mountain air carried faint echoes of something unnatural. Shinbo Amai, a tall and wiry Kumo shinobi, stood at the edge of a narrow cliff path, gazing toward the direction of the distant peaks.
Beside him, his companion Taro leaned casually against a jagged rock, twirling a kunai between his fingers. The two were sensory shinobi assigned to monitor the border post to raise a signal if Kiri decided to attack again.
Amai’s brow furrowed as he pressed his hand to the ground, feeling the faint vibrations of chakra rippling through the terrain.
“There it is again,” Amai muttered, his eyes narrowing. “Massive chakra fluctuations, just past the range of our field.”
Taro scoffed, flipping the kunai into his pouch. “You’re always so jumpy, Amai. It’s probably those Kiri shinobi tearing each other apart. Don’t they always solve their problems with violence?”
“This isn’t normal,” Amai insisted, his tone sharp. “The magnitude of these fluctuations… it feels deliberate. Controlled. Like someone’s fighting, not just throwing wild jutsu around.”
Taro rolled his eyes, folding his arms as he stared into the distance. “Relax. If they want to thin their own ranks, that’s just one less squad for us to deal with. No need to ruin our night worrying about it.”
“But what if it spills over here?” Amai countered, standing abruptly. “If someone’s pushing that much chakra, it could bring trouble straight to our post. We’re not exactly fortified up here, especially after their last visit.”
Taro chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless, you know that? Always thinking the worst. Look, even if something does come our way, we’re Kumo shinobi. We’re tougher than most. Let them come.”
Amai clenched his fists, frustration flickering across his face. “You don’t understand. This isn’t just reckless chakra use; it’s precision. Whoever’s out there knows exactly what they’re doing. And if we don’t figure it out, we’ll regret it later.”
Taro smirked, patting Amai on the back. “Fine, fine. You win, worrywart. Let’s go check it out if it’ll make you feel better. But I’m telling you, it’s nothing to lose sleep over.”
The two shinobi moved cautiously toward the source of the disturbance, their steps light against the uneven terrain. As they approached the clearing, the faint scent of burnt earth and crushed stone reached their nostrils.
Amai’s eyes darted to the ground, where countless jagged bone protrusions jutted from the soil, glinting in the moonlight.
“What the—?” Taro murmured, his bravado faltering as he took in the destruction. “This… this isn’t Kiri infighting.”
Amai’s gaze sharpened as he knelt to inspect the bone structures. “No,” he said grimly. “This is something far worse.”
Farther north, near the snowy peaks of the Land of Frost, the tension in the Kiri camp was palpable. Shinobi milled about, their hushed conversations occasionally punctuated by the crackle of a campfire. Harumi Higashi, a young and eager kunoichi, leaned toward her squadmate Kaito, her eyes wide with concern.
“Shouldn’t we go back her up?” Harumi whispered, glancing toward the direction where Jei’s chakra had flared. “It sounds like she’s fighting someone serious.”
Kayo, a broad-shouldered man with a perpetually skeptical expression, shook his head. “Our orders were clear, Harumi. Jei’s squad was the diversion. We’re the fallback. If we rush in without a plan, we’ll just complicate things.”
“But what if she’s in trouble?” Harumi pressed. “She’s still our leader. We can’t just sit here.”
Kayo snorted. “Jei Kaguya in trouble? Have you seen her fight? She could probably take on half of Kumo’s forces by herself.”
Another shinobi, a wiry man named Haru, joined the conversation with a smirk. “You’re overthinking this, Harumi. Jei’s probably cutting down some poor sap who thought they could outsmart her.”
“Or,” a fourth shinobi, Akane, interjected with a conspiratorial tone, “she’s fighting one of those Konoha monsters. You know, they’re always popping up out of nowhere.”
“Konoha monsters?” Haru repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You mean like the Yellow Flash? Don’t tell me you believe those stories.”
Akane crossed her arms, her expression smug. “Believe them? I’ve seen the aftermath. Whole battlefields wiped out in seconds. If that’s not real, then what is?”
“Propaganda,” Haru declared, waving a dismissive hand. “Konoha’s just trying to scare the other villages. I bet the Yellow Flash isn’t even that fast.”
This sparked an argument that rippled through the camp. Some shinobi insisted that the tales of the Yellow Flash were exaggerated, while others pointed to the infamous legends of the God of Shinobi and the current Hokage as evidence of Konoha’s power. The debate grew louder, with accusations and counterarguments flying back and forth.
Amid the chaos, the squad’s second-in-command, Ryota, stood silently by the fire, his expression dark. The faint chakra fluctuations from Jei’s location gnawed at him. Something felt wrong—terribly wrong.
“Enough!” Ryota barked, silencing the camp with a single word. “This isn’t the time for arguments. Jei’s out there, and if she’s fighting someone, we need to know who it is.”
The shinobi exchanged uneasy glances but nodded in agreement. Ryota rallied a small group, and they set off toward the source of the disturbance, their steps quick and purposeful.
Thousands of miles away, in a cavern deep between the Lands of Earth and Wind, the air was heavy with an oppressive stillness. Two figures stood facing each other, their silhouettes illuminated by the dim glow of a distant fire.
“Report,” the older man commanded, his voice cold and commanding. His long white hair framed a face etched with age and power.
The cloaked figure bowed slightly before speaking. “Progress in Kiri is steady. We’ve narrowed down potential targets to destabilize the Mizukage’s regime. One name stands out: Yagura.”
“Yagura,” the old man repeated, his voice laced with intrigue. “The young boy… deputy of the Anbu, if I recall correctly.”
“Yes,” the cloaked figure confirmed. “His age makes him vulnerable. His mind is still malleable, and his loyalty could be swayed.”
The older man, Madara, nodded slowly, a sinister gleam in his eye. “Good. A young mind is like clay, easily shaped. We will tempt him with power. And if he resists…”
“We’ll use force,” the cloaked figure finished, his tone resolute.
Madara turned, his gaze distant as he considered the possibilities. “Kiri is a tool. Nothing more. If we break Yagura, the rest will follow.”
The cloaked figure hesitated before speaking again. “There is one more matter. While spying on the Mizukage, I intercepted information about a young Uchiha jounin. Uzumaki Renjiro.”
Madara’s eyes narrowed, his interest piqued. “Danzo,” he muttered, almost to himself. “What has that fool done now?”
“The information was leaked to Kumo and Kiri,” the figure explained. “Renjiro’s movements are being tracked.”
Madara sighed, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Yet they say I’m the one who doesn’t care for the village.”
For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the distant crackle of fire. Then Madara spoke again, his tone decisive. “This… Renjiro. He may prove useful. I’ve been seeking someone to assist with what I have in mind.”
The cloaked figure nodded, a glint of understanding in his eyes. “Shall I proceed?”
Madara’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Yes. But carefully. We must not tip our hand too soon.”
