Land of Moon — Hidden Leaf base camp.
It was well past midnight, and the command tent was still crowded.
Namikaze Minato, Uchiha Mikoto, Uzumaki Kushina, Hyuga Hizashi—all of them were there, and for one very simple reason.
They were waiting on word from Natsuki.
If the raid landed, if Blue B was captured or killed, the entire shape of the war would change overnight. Assignments would have to be redrawn from scratch to handle a Hidden Cloud that no longer had a jinchuriki.
Then a doorway tore open in the air.
Every head in the tent snapped toward it.
Nawaki stepped out.
"Why are you alone? Where are Natsuki and Tsunade?" Kushina was on her feet before he'd fully cleared the portal.
"Natsuki sent me back with a message." Nawaki paused. "Minato—get everyone together, right now, and follow me."
"Everyone? Where are we going?"
"The Cloud's forward stronghold, obviously." Nawaki was grinning from ear to ear. "Natsuki's already killed the Fourth Raikage, Blue B, and the rest of their command. And he took seven thousand Cloud shinobi alive."
The tent went dead quiet.
Minato and the others exchanged glances, every face wearing the same expression: did I hear that correctly?
Natsuki killing Blue B, they could accept. That was more or less what they'd expected.
But killing the Fourth Raikage and capturing seven thousand shinobi alive? What was that supposed to mean? Was that something a shinobi could actually do?
It sounded like something out of a story.
"I know none of you believe me. You will when you see it." Nawaki clapped Minato on the shoulder. "Now move. Natsuki and my sister are waiting."
Minato snapped out of it and started giving orders. The others followed suit.
They still couldn't believe it—but Nawaki wouldn't joke about something like this. Not ever.
So they broke camp at record speed, expectation buzzing through the ranks, and followed him toward the Cloud stronghold.
They believed him somewhere along the way, in a numb sort of daze, when the ground beneath them turned into a carpet of unconscious Cloud shinobi stretching to the horizon.
There was a beat of stunned silence.
Then someone shouted, "Lord Hokage!"
The whole formation went up like dry brush catching fire, voice piling onto voice.
Tsunade couldn't help but smile.
He had it now. That presence—the same one Senju Hashirama had carried in his day.
Once word of tonight got out, Natsuki would be hailed as the second God of Shinobi. A record like this simply didn't exist anywhere else. Not since Hashirama.
Natsuki raised a hand, and the cheering cut off instantly.
"Bind all of them."
"Yes, Lord Hokage!"
Kushina pushed forward through the crowd and grabbed his hand. "Does this mean we get to go home soon?"
"There's no rush." Natsuki tilted his head. "Don't you want to see the Hidden Cloud for yourself?"
Kushina blinked.
She had never actually been. But what surprised her more was that Natsuki apparently had no intention of ending the war here.
Not that it mattered to her. Whatever he decided was fine.
And seeing the Hidden Cloud did sound like fun.
Natsuki surveyed the sea of bodies, and a thought surfaced: Kyoka Suigetsu.
Release its Shikai over seven thousand-plus Cloud shinobi, take them all at once, and he'd effectively own the Hidden Cloud from the inside out. Annexing the village would become trivial after that.
Time passed. One by one, every Cloud shinobi was bound, and Natsuki had the Leaf forces herd them into a single mass.
When they woke, he rose into the air above them and released Kyoka Suigetsu.
In an instant, every single shinobi who saw the blade fell under the genjutsu—without the faintest idea it had happened.
The next morning, Natsuki led the Leaf forces out, escorting seven thousand prisoners toward the Hidden Cloud itself.
And news of that night raced across the shinobi world faster than any messenger could have carried it.
Hidden Stone Village — Tsuchikage's office.
"You're certain the intelligence is sound?" Ohnoki's face was a knot of doubt.
"I wish it weren't." Kitsuchi's smile was thin and bitter.
"How is Natsuki that strong?"
To Ohnoki's mind, even a Leaf victory over the Cloud should have come at a brutal price. Reality had gone somewhere else entirely.
The Leaf had broken the Cloud and walked away with almost nothing lost.
"There's more. According to Anbu reports, Natsuki is marching on the Hidden Cloud right now." Kitsuchi's voice dropped.
"What is he doing?" Ohnoki jolted upright. "Is he actually going to ignore the rules and take the village?"
"I believe he is." Kitsuchi drew a slow breath.
Ohnoki sank into the Tsuchikage's chair.
For the first time in his long life, he felt fear.
The logic was brutally simple. If Natsuki could disregard the rules and seize the Hidden Cloud, nothing stopped him from disregarding them again and seizing the Hidden Stone.
And the Leaf now had the strength to back it. Even if the Cloud, the Stone, the Sand, and the Mist stood together, beating them would be a desperate proposition.
"The last shinobi who did this was Senju Hashirama," Ohnoki said, brows drawn tight.
Hashirama had ended the Warring States era, unified the shinobi world, distributed the Tailed Beasts, and built the system of Five Great Nations and Five Great Villages.
And Natsuki? Would he walk the same road?
Nobody knew.
The real problem was what the Hidden Stone could do about it.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
"All we can do is wait." Ohnoki exhaled heavily.
Kitsuchi said nothing, because there was nothing to say. It was the only option they had.
But if the Stone was shaken, the Cloud was in freefall.
Hidden Cloud Village — council chamber.
Every Jonin in the village had been packed into the room.
With the Fourth Raikage and the entire upper echelon dead, the man chairing the meeting was a veteran Jonin named Furuka.
By the time he finished recounting the previous night, the chamber had erupted.
Disbelief, shock, terror—all of it braided together into something that pressed down on the room like a physical weight.
"The Leaf is marching on us as we speak." Furuka's voice cut through the noise. "We don't have much time."
"Then we fight to the last man!"
A Jonin shot to his feet, and a chorus of voices rose behind him.
That was the Cloud's way. Fear of death had never been part of it.
"And the seven thousand of ours they're holding?" Furuka asked quietly.
The chamber fell silent.
"So we just surrender." Another Jonin's voice was thick with frustration.
"I have a proposal."
A young woman with dark skin rose to her feet, and every head turned.
Mabui. One of the Cloud's rising prodigies—young, but long since known throughout the village for her mind. The Fourth Raikage himself had once remarked that once she came of age, she'd make a fine secretary to the Raikage.
"Based on what Natsuki has demonstrated, a last stand would accomplish nothing but throwing our lives away." Mabui spoke slowly and clearly. "What matters right now is reestablishing contact with our seven thousand captured shinobi—and keeping the Hidden Cloud intact."
"Keeping it intact?" Furuka stiffened. "You think he intends to take the village?"
"I think it's very likely."
The room went still.
If Mabui was right, then avenging the Raikage wasn't even on the table. The Hidden Cloud itself might simply cease to exist.
"As long as the village survives, and as long as we hold onto enough strength," Mabui went on, "the day will come when we can avenge Lord Raikage and the others."
"It's the only path open to us."
Furuka sighed inwardly and endorsed her proposal. As acting head, he was steadier than the rest of them, and his own conclusions had run along the same lines.
The Hidden Cloud had lost the right to die gloriously. All that remained was to swallow the humiliation and endure.
Two days later.
Natsuki's column arrived at the gates of the Hidden Cloud, where Furuka and a delegation of Jonin were already waiting.
"Looks like there's not going to be a fight." Kushina sounded genuinely disappointed.
She rarely made it to the front lines, and this time she hadn't gotten a single chance to cut loose.
"Natsuki scared the fight straight out of them. Of course they're not resisting." Nawaki shook his head. "Honestly? I'd do the same in their shoes."
Mikoto nodded along.
It was true of anyone. Stand on the wrong side of a record like Natsuki's and you'd start questioning your entire life.
Fortunately, they were not on the wrong side of it.
Which was why, when Mikoto had heard the news, all she'd felt was a warmth rising in her cheeks.
"At least they're being sensible. Saves us the trouble." Tsunade studied the Cloud Jonin across the open ground. "I'd like it if that was the last war any of us see."
"The Leaf is the strongest village in the world now." Minato was all smiles. "There won't be another war for a very long time."
He left the rest unspoken: as long as Natsuki drew breath, the shinobi world would keep the peace. After he was gone, nobody could say.
Hashirama's death had been followed almost immediately by a World War, after all.
Still, that was a problem for a distant tomorrow. Buying even a stretch of real peace was, in Minato's estimation, already an extraordinary achievement.
Konan's eyes drifted to Natsuki.
It was a shame Yahiko and Nagato hadn't come to see this.
But it was all right. She believed he would bring peace to the shinobi world.
The Leaf column drew closer.
Furuka and his people wore a spread of different expressions, but underneath, the feeling was identical: dread for whatever came next for their village.
"Lord Hokage." Furuka approached and inclined his head.
"You can take your seven thousand back shortly," Natsuki said.
Furuka froze.
That was it?
Weren't there supposed to be terms? Negotiations? Something?
"The Leaf forces will camp outside the village for now," Natsuki continued. "Assemble every Jonin you have. We'll convene in two hours."
"Understood."
"The rest of you, get everyone settled." Natsuki turned to Tsunade, Nawaki, and the others.
The Leaf shinobi moved at once, raising tents on the spot, while Furuka led seven thousand freed prisoners back through the village gates.
That was what finally broke the Cloud's mood—the sight of their own people coming home. Nobody had expected to see those seven thousand again.
"Take me to the Raikage's office." Natsuki walked in after them.
The shinobi and civilians of the Hidden Cloud watched him pass with hatred plain on their faces, but not one of them charged him. Furuka had issued orders in advance: whatever you feel, the village comes first.
"Lord Hokage." A young woman stepped out of the crowd and bowed. "My name is Mabui."
"One of the Cloud's new-generation prodigies," Natsuki said.
He took in her dark skin, and a stray thought crossed his mind—she looked like she'd walked straight out of a fantasy anime.
"Lord Hokage... um. How is Yugito?" Mabui hesitated before asking.
"Alive," Natsuki said. "Though it'll be a while before you can see her."
Some of the tension went out of her shoulders.
"Good timing. You can take me to the Raikage's office," he added.
"This way, Lord Hokage." Mabui turned and led without needing to be told twice.
"Do you know the Heavenly Transfer Technique?" Natsuki asked, conversational.
"No." She shook her head.
Natsuki raised an eyebrow. So she hadn't learned it yet.
In the original story, Mabui had been its only practitioner.
"Hand the Heavenly Transfer Technique over to me," he said, without a shred of ceremony.
Mabui's eyes went automatically to Furuka.
"I'll retrieve it immediately." Furuka's expression said exactly how he felt about it, but agreeing was the only move he had.
Natsuki reached the Raikage's office shortly after.
He pushed the door open, crossed straight to the desk, and—under Mabui's gaze—sat down in the Raikage's chair.
Mabui opened her mouth, then thought better of it.
A short while later, Furuka came in. He saw Natsuki in that chair, and his face darkened before he could stop it. Then he remembered where they stood, and swallowed it.
"Lord Hokage. The scroll for the Heavenly Transfer Technique."
Natsuki took it and began to read.
The Heavenly Transfer Technique was a Cloud space-time ninjutsu. Its function was to teleport a designated target to a designated location—an object or a person.
Teleporting a person, however, demanded extraordinary physical durability. Anything less, and the body came apart in transit. In the original story, only Tsunade and the Fourth Raikage had been able to survive it, which was why the technique had mostly been used for freight.
Natsuki judged it genuinely valuable. He could think of a dozen applications off the top of his head.
And since he had nothing else to do, he settled in with the scroll.
The two hours went quickly.
Mabui led him to the council chamber, now packed wall to wall with Cloud Jonin—including all the ones Natsuki had flattened with Conqueror's Haki.
They were, functionally, his subordinates now. Kyoka Suigetsu had seen to that.
"First matter," Natsuki said. "The Hidden Cloud will be preserved."
Furuka and the others let out a breath they'd been holding for three days.
"Second matter. Until a new Raikage is chosen, I will hold the office myself." Natsuki's tone didn't change. "The selection process begins tomorrow."
[Congratulations! Host has unlocked Laxus Dreyar's Template Ability 4: Forbidden Magic — Thunder Palace.]
The line surfaced before his eyes the instant he finished speaking.
The unlock condition for Thunder Palace had been exactly that: become the Raikage.
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