The war between Konoha and Iwa had raged for three days. To the rank-and-file, it seemed the fourth day would be more of the same—a grueling, predictable cycle of blood and steel.
Only the elite Jonin within Iwagakure's high command knew better. They had spent the last forty-eight hours playing the part of the weary underdog, putting on a "tragic performance" to lull Konoha into a false sense of security. Today, they were finally ready for the climax.
They were about to give the shinobi of Konoha a performance they would never forget.
Suppressing their excitement, the Iwa commanders began the day's maneuvers as they always did. Ohnoki had designated the evening, right when the signals to withdraw were usually given, as the moment to strike.
At that hour, the Konoha shinobi—having fought in the same pattern for three days—would be at their most vulnerable. It was also the perfect time to showcase the true power of a Tailed Beast. After a full day of combat, most ninjas would be scraping the bottom of their chakra reserves; the Jinchuriki, with their nearly bottomless wells of chakra, would possess an insurmountable advantage.
So, they waited.
They knew that a good meal was worth the wait. Having already waited two days, they had more than enough patience to play along for another few hours to ensure their grand plan didn't crumble at the final hurdle.
Unfortunately for them, Namikaze Minato had no intention of following their script. He had made his decision before even setting foot on the field, and he was ready to flip the table.
In the heart of the fray, Gari's heart was a furnace of resentment directed at the white-haired man before him.
During their first encounter, Gari had nearly fallen for one of Jiraiya's traps—he'd come far too close to ending up as "toad droppings." But his hatred ran deeper than a bruised ego; over the last three days, two members of his Explosion Corps had been killed by Jiraiya's endless and bizarre array of ninjutsu. These were his subordinates. Even if they weren't close friends, seeing familiar faces he saw every day suddenly vanish forever left a hollow, bitter ache in his chest.
Furthermore, out of all the Iwa elites facing off against Konoha's top brass, he was the only one who had failed to claim a significant kill. Although Ohnoki hadn't reprimanded him, Gari's fierce pride made him imagine looks of disdain from his peers. They likely thought he was weak—that he could only hold his own against Jiraiya with the help of the Explosion Corps, and that his weakness was the reason his men were dead.
Because of this, Gari had mentally prepared himself the moment he heard Ohnoki's plan.
He knew that Roushi, the Four-Tails Jinchuriki, was tasked with handling Orochimaru. Under the sudden eruption of a Tailed Beast's power, Orochimaru would likely be killed or incapacitated. Gari planned to use that news to shatter Jiraiya's focus. If Jiraiya valued his bond with his teammate, he would surely scramble to save him.
That would be Gari's opening.
'I'll let you act arrogant for a few more hours,' Gari thought, glaring at Jiraiya, who still held the upper hand.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Gari caught sight of a dark object flying straight for his throat. He reacted instantly, using a Landmine Fist to force Jiraiya back while he blurred to the side to dodge the projectile.
It wasn't until the object whistled past his face that he saw what it was.
A simple kunai.
"Damn it! Who dares ambush me?!" Gari cursed under his breath. Seeing that Jiraiya was temporarily tied down by other Iwa shinobi, Gari whipped his head toward the direction the kunai had come from, determined to make the "coward" regret drawing breath.
However, his gaze met only a chaotic mess of the battlefield where countless Leaf and Stone shinobi were locked in a desperate melee. Assuming the kunai was just a stray throw from the general skirmish, Gari cursed again and lunged back toward Jiraiya. Without his pressure as the primary attacker, the other Iwa ninjas were already flagging.
Time ticked by. The rhythm of his battle with Jiraiya returned to its usual, balanced state, and he quickly forgot the minor distraction.
But it hadn't been an accident. Had he looked closer, he would have noticed strange markings etched onto the handle of that kunai embedded in the dirt.
He would never get the chance to look again.
Just as Jiraiya forced him back toward the kunai's position, a figure appeared almost simultaneously beside him.
The movement was so impossibly fast that Gari only saw a blur of yellow hair. Then, he felt a sharp, cold sting across his throat.
He tried to turn his head to face his attacker, but the flash of yellow vanished as quickly as it had appeared, disappearing from his sight entirely.
For a heartbeat, it felt like an illusion.
But the geyser of blood erupting from his severed carotid artery was a very real, very lethal reality.
"The Flying Raijin?!"
Gari may have been confused in his final moments, but as a bystander, Jiraiya saw everything with terrifying clarity. Minato had appeared like a vengeful ghost, slit Gari's throat with a kunai, and vanished in the blink of an eye.
'He actually learned it?! And in such a short amount of time?!'
Even though Jiraiya had known since their long talk in the Land of Rain that Minato had a genius-level affinity for Space-Time Ninjutsu, he still found it hard to believe. He had only given Minato the scrolls for the Flying Raijin a few days ago. To master a technique that no one had been able to touch since the days of Tobirama Senju was... unprecedented.
The shock lasted only a second before it was replaced by pure, unadulterated joy.
Without Gari to pin him down, the remaining Iwa shinobi were trivial prey. From this point on, Jiraiya had the freedom to either harvest the enemy Chunin or rotate to support the other Jonin. He now possessed the power to single-handedly shift the tide of the war.
More importantly, with Minato's Flying Raijin, they could catch every other Iwa elite off guard.
But Jiraiya wasn't the only one who had witnessed Minato's "debut."
Many Iwa shinobi had seen the ghostly yellow blur. Among the veterans were those who had seen Tobirama Senju use the Flying Raijin decades ago; they recognized the scalp-numbing sensation of that technique instantly.
"It's the Flying Raijin!"
Roushi, being the closest to the event, was the first to let out a roar of warning to his comrades.
He realized immediately that the death of Gari and the arrival of a Space-Time specialist had ruined their carefully laid plans. They could no longer wait for sunset.
"Han! Do it now!"
Following his roar to the tense, high-strung Han, four tails of pure, bubbling chakra erupted from Roushi's back.
A massive, suffocating pressure exploded outward with the appearance of the tails. Orochimaru's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing into slits of pure, predatory excitement. He looked exactly like a cat that had just been offered the world's most interesting ball of yarn.
So, this was the power of a Tailed Beast?