Lock moved swiftly and silently across the dunes, a shimmer of air where he passed. By the time he reached the outskirts of Mount Kikyo, his senses had already caught traces of chakra signatures — multiple, clustered, disciplined. Sand shinobi.
He slowed immediately.
They're here in force. So the reports were true.
Even in their own territory, Sand shinobi wouldn't maintain full vigilance, but Lock knew better than to underestimate a hidden sensor or a random patrol. Every step deeper into the Wind Country was a risk.
The closer he crept to the mountain range, the more evident the scale became. Dozens of chakra presences, then hundreds. He crouched on a rocky ridge and peered down. Tents stretched across the valley floor like an army camp — the symbol of Sunagakure painted across their banners.
He frowned beneath his mask. "So they've committed an entire division…"
Beyond the camp, he could see the narrow mouth of a valley surrounded by steep rock faces. The Sand forces had positioned themselves to block that entrance completely — their lines were too disciplined for this to be a simple patrol.
That valley, according to Hiruzen's report, was where the chakra beast was hiding.
They're preparing for a siege. If they take that thing down or seal it, the balance among the Five Nations shifts overnight.
Lock exhaled quietly and drew back. There was no way to enter the valley directly; the bottleneck was heavily guarded, likely with barrier and sensor ninjutsu layered over the entrance. Any infiltration there would be suicide.
He settled onto a cliff ledge overlooking the area. "I'll wait," he whispered. "They won't stay still for long. Once they move against the beast, that's when I'll see what I need."
The desert wind whistled softly past him as he vanished again into the rock's shadow.
Inside the Sand Encampment
In one of the temporary earthen halls made from molded sand and chakra, the elite of Sunagakure had gathered. Dozens of seasoned jōnin filled the space, and at the center sat the Third Kazekage, the village's proud and stoic leader.
He was a man of commanding presence — steel-blue hair, gold eyes sharp as kunai, a white Kazekage cloak draped over his shoulders. His expression was calm, but every shinobi in the room felt the restrained power behind that gaze.
"Lord Kazekage," one of the jōnin asked cautiously, "we've been encamped here for three days. When do we begin the assault?"
The Kazekage's eyes flicked toward the valley visible through the opening in the wall — a dark chasm where something vast moved occasionally, its heavy breathing audible even from here.
"The creature in that valley has cost us too much already," he said flatly. "Dozens of our shinobi have fallen trying to bring it down. This time, we end it."
He gestured toward the map spread before him. "But do not mistake numbers for strategy. The terrain is narrow — we can't send the full force in at once. That's why I've called so many here: to rotate, to wear it down. Not to charge blindly."
The room fell silent. Everyone remembered the earlier attempts.
The beast had appeared months ago in that forgotten canyon. The first team sent to investigate had never returned. Subsequent squads found only traces of devastation — sand turned to glass, stone reduced to powder.
At first, the village dismissed it as a giant wild creature. But when multiple elite squads failed to subdue it, Sunagakure's leadership realized it was something far more dangerous.
The later missions had revealed a crucial discovery: the creature never left the valley. It would attack fiercely inside its territory, but the moment the shinobi withdrew beyond its boundary, it stopped pursuing.
That limitation had given them hope.
The Kazekage continued, voice even: "We have gathered intelligence. The beast stands nearly thirty meters tall, its hide harder than steel, immune to most ninjutsu. Genjutsu has no effect, and it seems devoid of intelligence. A perfect weapon… if we can control it."
Murmurs rippled through the room.
He went on, "Its regeneration is extraordinary — even deep wounds close within minutes. So long as it breathes, our attacks will mean little. However, it is slow. Its defenses are strongest up close, not at range. We'll exploit that."
Another jōnin, a young man with short brown hair and a black combat uniform, stepped forward. "Lord Kazekage, we could divide our forces into waves. Each group engages until their chakra is low, then withdraws. The creature won't chase, so we can wear it down gradually."
The Kazekage regarded him with a faint smile. "Lōsha… your idea aligns with mine."
He turned back to the others. "We'll proceed as he suggests. The beast cannot leave the valley — that's its cage. We'll grind it down until its chakra runs dry. Then we seal it."
His golden eyes gleamed with ambition. "Once this creature is ours, Sunagakure will possess a power that rivals any tailed beast."
The assembled shinobi nodded, their expressions tense but resolute. Outside, the desert wind howled across the mountains, carrying with it the low, rumbling growl of something ancient stirring in the valley below.
Unseen on a distant ridge, Lock listened to the faint echoes of their meeting. His eyes narrowed behind his mask.
"So… the Kazekage himself is here," he murmured. "This won't be easy."
But then his lips curved slightly. "Good. The harder the hunt, the more valuable the prey."
He settled in the shadows, chakra vanishing completely, and waited for the Sand's attack to begin.
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