Yako shielded Jenri's back while scanning the sea, watching the clash unfold between Konoha and the Suna shinobi.
The ships anchored near the coastline were now burning wrecks. The remains of twelve vessels tilted at odd angles, smoke billowing into the night sky.
Some still bore the emblem of the Daimyō of the Land of Wind.
It takes over half a year to build a ship—yet only half an hour to burn one down.
The Daimyō would be furious. Sunagakure was too weak, unable even to protect the personal property of their own feudal lord.
At the docks, Konoha shinobi had broken into the warehouse, sabotaging supplies from the inside.
The warehouse perimeter was a little more contested—but not for long.
Suddenly, two Suna shinobi appeared beside Yako.
They noticed the Konoha shinobi before them seemed distracted, frequently glancing around, even pausing occasionally in a daze.
Time and again their kunai stabbed at him—only to bounce off.
Underneath his standard flak vest, this Konoha ninja was wearing iron armor. Their weapons couldn't pierce it.
"Don't be afraid!" gasped Suna Shinobi A. "Every shinobi has a weakness! This guy's just cheating with armor. But I know his soft spot!"
Suna Shinobi B jumped at that. "Where?! Tell me!"
Shinobi A grinned. "He's still human—he has to eat, drink, and do his business. You think he's armored there too? Aim for his most vulnerable spot!"
Shinobi B froze in realization.
Why hadn't he thought of such a brilliant idea?
Using his partner's frontal assault as cover, he slipped behind Yako and lunged—with his kunai aimed squarely at Yako's—
—
Yako was observing a distant skirmish, peering over Shinobi A's shoulder, when he heard the rush of air from behind.
He twisted around—and saw just how low the Suna ninja was going.
You some kind of hyena? A proctologist from Sunagakure General Hospital?!
With a furious snarl, Yako clenched his glutes—and caught the kunai mid-thrust.
Enraged, he spun and drove a fist straight into Shinobi B's skull.
His fist gleamed with Bronze Light, the Absolute Defense technique.
Hard as steel, it crushed through bone like paper.
Unbelievable. This wasn't a fight anymore—it was an insult.
You want to kill me, fine. But that?
Attacking a man's most delicate region?
If I end up with hemorrhoids, are you gonna pay for the treatment?!
—
Just when the tide seemed entirely in Konoha's favor, a streak of golden light appeared from behind the dockyard.
It was a wave—no, a golden sand tide surging forward.
Yako's eyes narrowed.
He knew that glow.
Rasa.
Disciple of the Third Kazekage.
At the rear of the battlefield, Nara Shikakaku also spotted the young Suna shinobi standing atop the golden current, arms folded.
Two more figures stepped up beside him, standing shoulder to shoulder.
Akimichi Yamashiro, Yamanaka Ino'en.
The three clan heads of the legendary Ino–Shika–Chō formation. Their expressions were grim.
"Ino'en," said Shikakaku, "that's him."
"Who?"
"Rasa. Student of the Third Kazekage. A prodigy of Sunagakure. He's mastered Magnet Release: Gold Dust."
The three clan leaders advanced.
Each step in perfect unison, their pace quickening.
By then, the golden tide had already crashed into the dockside warehouse. The Konoha shinobi outside were buried beneath waves of glittering sand.
Here and there, crimson blossomed through the dunes—blood from comrades crushed beneath the weight of gold.
Akimichi Yamashiro's body swelled with a roar, transformed by Partial Expansion Jutsu, his iron staff growing to match.
With a swing of his now-massive weapon—dozens of meters long—he swept the sand wave aside, halting Rasa's advance.
From afar, Yako hurled a kunai, killing the Suna shinobi next to him, then looked up at the titanic clash.
A giant. Towering dozens of meters tall.
His every strike shattered golden dunes.
For a moment, the surge was held back.
Hovering above it all, Rasa stood on a floating platform of Gold Dust.
His eyes locked onto Yamashiro's massive feet.
Forming hand seals, he manipulated the gold beneath them.
The ground shifted.
Yamashiro stumbled, his footing crumbling under the shifting gold.
Then—bam!
A Suna shinobi near Rasa suddenly leapt—and hurled a kunai with an explosive tag directly at him.
Rasa's eyes narrowed.
This wasn't betrayal—it was Yamanaka Clan Mind Transfer Jutsu.
The Ino–Shika–Chō always fought in sync.
The gold dust surged and shielded him, blocking the tag.
But the controlled shinobi didn't stop. The attacks kept coming.
Without hesitation, Rasa retaliated.
A spear of Gold Dust shot from the dune, devouring the possessed shinobi.
Blood spattered as the body was crushed.
Rasa had no mercy.
The moment his comrade was compromised, he eliminated him.
Seeing this, the nearby Suna forces fled in fear.
This was not a battle they could survive.
Under moonlight, a shadow extended swiftly across the ground—targeting Rasa's.
He dodged with precision, weaving around it atop his gold.
As one of the most well-known formations in the shinobi world, the Ino–Shika–Chō's tactics were no secret.
Ino'en and Shikakaku bought just enough time.
Yamashiro forced himself upright, and with another roar, smashed the advancing tide once more with his gigantic staff.
But Yako frowned.
The three clan leaders looked evenly matched with Rasa—but they weren't.
In truth, the weakness of the Ino–Shika–Chō was obvious:
Take down Akimichi Yamashiro, and the other two couldn't stop the Gold Dust flood alone.
As they continued fighting, the ground beneath them trembled.
Dust from broken attacks. Missed strikes. Gold Dust spreading.
The soil below was turning into more Gold Dust.
And when it reached critical mass—Rasa moved.
Hand seals. A raised palm.
"Magnet Release: Great Gold Dust Burial!"
Dozens of torrents of Gold Dust shot from the ground, spiraling together into a cone above.
Then—tightened.
Yamashiro's giant form was swallowed whole.
From within the spiraling gold, Yako could just make out his face—contorted in panic.
Magnet Release was designed to combat large targets. Tailed Beasts, even.
The cone contracted.
Rasa's hand clenched.
BOOM!
Even at a distance, the sound of the Great Gold Dust Burial collapsing echoed like thunder.
Yako's heart clenched.
Was that it? Was Yamashiro dead?
Then—a breath of relief.
A massive shape burst free.
At the last second, Yamashiro had shrunk down—and Nara Shikakaku's shadow had yanked him clear.
But not all of him made it.
His left arm… was gone.
Still trapped in the crushing grip of gold.
Yamashiro didn't hesitate.
He grabbed a kunai in his right hand, expanded it—and sliced through his own shoulder, severing flesh, tendon, and bone.
"Yamashiro!" Shikakaku shouted, voice filled with pain.
Shikakaku's shadow pulled him the rest of the way out.
Such was the brutality of shinobi war.
Even the clan head of the Akimichi—was not immune to loss.
Yako made a mental note for his report:
Rasa has the potential to become Kazekage.
The Ino–Shika–Chō trio cannot match him.
But then—Rasa staggered.
Clutching his head.
Yamanaka Ino'en had struck, attacking his mind the moment he unleashed the burial technique.
"Orderly retreat!" Shikakaku barked, pointing toward the docks.
"Your squad will cover the rear!"
Yako blinked.
He was pointing right at his squad.
The unit commander leapt onto a cargo crane, shouting:
"We're the rear guard! Follow me!"