Chapter 15: The King's Ransom
The symphony of destruction playing out in the heart of Kumogakure was a masterpiece, but Naruto was no longer in the audience to applaud the crescendo. As the Fourth Raikage, a crackling comet of blue lightning, abandoned his fortress and streaked towards the battlefield to engage the Tailed Beasts, Naruto's floating chair dissolved into motes of purple light. He dropped silently onto the now-deserted rooftop of the Raikage's administrative tower, the epicenter of Kumo's power.
The air here was strangely serene, the screams and explosions a distant, muffled chorus. The only signs of the ongoing crisis were the tremors that shook the mountain itself and the ominous, flickering light show painting the clouds in hues of sand and violent energy.
"With the king off the board, the castle is left undefended," Naruto mused, his grin sharp and predatory.
The interior was not the empty tomb he had expected. The hallway leading to the Raikage's office was a hive of controlled chaos, centered around a single, unyielding figure.
Mabui.
The Raikage's secretary hadn't fled. She stood amidst a circle of long-range transmission scrolls and radio equipment, her face tense with focus, her hands a blur as she coordinated the village's desperate defense. She was the calm eye of the hurricane.
"—Sector Gamma reports full civilian evacuation! Send Darui's unit to reinforce the western gate immediately! Tell the sealing corps to hold their line until the Raikage engages!"
She paused, her sharp senses picking up the one thing that was wrong with the scene: the quiet, rhythmic tap... tap... tap of an umbrella approaching from the secure entrance.
Mabui spun around, a kunai already in her hand, her posture shifting instantly from administrator to shinobi. Her eyes widened, not in fear, but in shocked disbelief. Before her stood a man with pointed ears and a chillingly serene smile, dressed in an immaculate, outlandish suit that looked entirely out of place in a warzone.
"The building is on lockdown," Mabui stated, her voice cold and steady despite the absurdity of the intruder. "No one gets in or out. Identify yourself."
Naruto's grin widened. He gave a little bow, a gesture of pure mockery. "Just a humble tourist, my dear, taking in the local festivities. And I must say, your village throws a wonderful party. A bit loud, perhaps, but certainly energetic."
Mabui's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. The sensors hadn't tripped. The doors hadn't been forced. How is he here?
"You're with him," she realized, her grip on the kunai tightening. "The one who brought the One-Tail here."
"Guilty as charged," Naruto chirped, taking another step forward. "Now, I have some family heirlooms to collect from the basement, so if you'll just be a dear and step aside..."
"Not another step," she commanded. "You are currently trespassing in the strategic command center of Kumogakure. Surrender now, or I will eliminate you."
She was no frontline powerhouse like Ay, but she was elite. She began to channel chakra for her signature Heavenly Transfer Technique, preparing to warp him into oblivion.
Naruto chuckled, a sound of genuine amusement. He found her bravery... adorable.
"Very well," he said, raising one hand. He didn't weave signs. He simply held up three fingers. "You've been working so hard, running this whole show. You deserve a break."
He curled one finger. "Eins..."
Mabui tensed, throwing the kunai with lethal precision.
He curled the second finger. "Zwei..."
The kunai slowed in mid-air, the air around it shimmering like heat haze. Mabui's eyes widened in horror as she felt the flow of time itself thicken around her like syrup.
He curled the final finger. "Drei."
Snap.
The world stopped.
Mabui was frozen mid-motion, her arm extended, her expression a perfect mask of fierce determination. The frantic crackle of the radio equipment went silent. The kunai hovered inches from Naruto's nose.
Naruto gently plucked the kunai from the air and spun it on his finger. "See? Much more peaceful."
He walked past her, patting her gently on the shoulder. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."
He descended deep into the mountain's core, following the flow of ancient, powerful chakra that called to his blood. He arrived before a colossal vault door, a single, seamless slab of chakra-conductive metal. There was no handle, no keypad. In its center was a single, intricate seal array, far older and more potent than the one on the main entrance.
This was the Kumo Sacred Vault, the resting place of the village's greatest treasures.
"This is it, furball," Naruto thought, his eyes gleaming. "The props for the next act."
Kurama grumbled in his mind. "Just be quick about it. That Raikage is no fool. He'll realize this is a diversion eventually."
"Let him," Naruto replied. "The best part of any trick is the reveal."
Once again, he placed his hand on the seal. The reaction was instantaneous. The entire door lit up, intricate patterns of fūinjutsu tracing their way across its surface like golden veins. These seals were designed by the Gold and Silver Brothers' ancestors, meant to respond only to those who carried the spark of the Sage of Six Paths.
The vault didn't see a thief. It saw a prodigal son returning home. With a hiss of depressurizing air that had been trapped for decades, the vault door slid open.
The room beyond was not filled with gold or jewels. It was a simple, circular chamber, and on five pedestals in the center, bathed in a soft, ethereal light, lay the Treasured Tools of the Sage of Six Paths.
The Bashōsen, a large fan woven from exotic feathers.
The Benihisago, a crimson gourd pulsating with a faint, hungry energy.
The Kōkinjō, a thick rope shimmering with power.
The Shichiseiken, a broadsword with a talisman attached to its blade.
And on the central, most prominent pedestal, the Kohaku no Jōhei, a magnificent amber pot that seemed to hum with a power capable of sealing gods.
Naruto's grin was one of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. "Oh, you are all far more beautiful than the stories," he whispered.
He stepped forward, his hand reaching for the Amber Purifying Pot. As his fingers brushed against its cold, amber surface, the pot flared, releasing a pulse of immense, heavy chakra—a final security measure designed to crush the spirit of any soul unworthy of the Sage's legacy. It was a tool that devoured the chakra of its user, a parasite as much as a weapon.
Naruto didn't flinch. The chaotic, demonic energy of Mephisto's soul met the Sage's sacred power, and for a terrifying moment, the two forces clashed. The air in the vault crackled, and the very stone beneath Naruto's feet began to spiderweb with cracks.
"Hungry, aren't you?" Naruto whispered, his grin widening into a feral snarl. He didn't pull back. Instead, he poured his own will—the ancient, indomitable will of the King of Time—into the connection, backed by the colossal life force of the Uzumaki bloodline.
"But you know who I am, don't you? This blood is my birthright. And these tools? They were never meant to gather dust in the dark. They were meant to be used."
The pot's resistance shattered. The golden light subsided, replaced by a submissive hum. The Kohaku no Jōhei was now his.
One by one, he claimed the others. The Bashōsen felt light as a feather in his grip, thrumming with elemental potential. The Benihisago felt cold and heavy, eager to swallow souls. He sealed all five artifacts into a single, high-capacity storage scroll he'd prepared for this very purpose, slinging it casually over his shoulder.
As he turned to leave, the mountain shook with a particularly violent tremor. From the village below, he could hear a new roar, one of pure, unbridled rage echoing through the stone. It was the Raikage. Ay had fully engaged the Tailed Beasts.
Naruto's smirk was serene. The main event was reaching its crescendo. His work here was done.
He strolled out of the vault, not bothering to close the door. He wanted them to know. He wanted the Raikage to return to a saved village only to find its heart hollowed out, the empty pedestals a screaming testament to his failure.
Naruto ascended back to the command center. The room was exactly as he had left it: a tableau of frozen time.
Mabui stood like a statue, her face locked in that fierce, admirable expression of defiance. The kunai he had plucked from the air sat spinning idly on the desk where he had flicked it.
Naruto approached her, the scroll of stolen legends heavy on his back. He leaned in close, admiring the stillness.
"You know," he murmured, his voice soft in the silent room, "holding time still like this... it's quite draining. My body is strong, but even I have limits."
He raised a gloved hand, removing the glove with his teeth to reveal his bare palm.
"And since I've relieved you of your heavy burdens," he whispered, reaching out to touch her forehead, "I think it's only fair I take a small tip. A service fee, if you will."
Chrono Leech.
His fingertips brushed her skin. For a split second, a spectral clock face manifested on Mabui's forehead, its hands spinning wildly forward. She didn't age—not visibly—but a shimmering mote of light, the essence of her time, flowed from her skin and into Naruto's palm.
He inhaled sharply, the golden energy vanishing into his skin. The color returned to his cheeks, the subtle strain of maintaining the time-freeze washing away as he consumed a few weeks of her lifespan to refuel his own.
"Delicious," he purred, slipping his glove back on.
He noticed her glasses had slid slightly down her nose during her frozen lunge. With a gentle, mocking finger, he pushed them back up the bridge of her nose.
"There now. Perfectly professional."
He stepped back, counting aloud in German, his voice calm and clear. "Eins… Zwei… Drei…"
A swirling, ornate door of purple and gold light—the Baumkuchen Door—materialized in the air before him.
"Auf Wiedersehen, Kumogakure."
He stepped through the portal, and as the door vanished, the spell broke.
Snap.
Time crashed back into the room.
"—liminate you!" Mabui shouted, finishing the sentence she had started seconds ago. She thrust her hand forward, releasing the Heavenly Transfer Chakra she had been building—only to hit absolutely nothing.
She stumbled forward, her momentum carrying her into empty space. She blinked, disoriented. The intruder was gone. The kunai she had thrown was sitting on her desk, spinning to a halt.
"What...?" she breathed, looking around frantically. The sensors were silent. The door was still sealed.
Then, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed the desk for support, a profound, inexplicable exhaustion seeping into her bones. It felt as though she hadn't slept in days.
The tremors from the battle outside shook the room, snapping her back to reality. She scrambled for the comms unit, but her eyes drifted to the secure monitor that displayed the status of the lower levels.
The light for the Sacred Vault was green. Open.
The blood drained from Mabui's face. She didn't need to go down there to know. The emptiness in the pit of her stomach told her everything. While they were fighting monsters outside, a ghost had walked in and stolen their soul.
She grabbed the microphone, her voice trembling for the first time in her career.
"Lord Raikage... we have a problem."