"Lord Ikki, the Tsunade currently trapped isn't just the First Hokage's granddaughter," Hiruzen Sarutobi pleaded, his voice trembling with a mix of desperation and hope. "She is the last of the Senju line. If... if something happens to her, the Senju name dies with her."
Hiruzen watched Ikki's face closely. He saw the flicker of nostalgia there and felt a surge of relief. He knew that as men grew older, the iron in their hearts often softened into sentimentality; they began to value old bonds far more than they ever did in their youth.
"Hashirama's granddaughter?" Ikki's voice was a low growl. "The Senju clan once boasted over a thousand members. You're telling me that glorious legacy has been whittled down to a single girl who can't even be protected? Those two brothers used to brag that they built Konoha to protect the next generation. If they can't even keep their own blood safe, then this whole village was built for nothing!"
Ikki let out a long, heavy sigh. The complexity in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp light that sent a shiver down Hiruzen's spine—a chill that even a veteran 'Shinobi Professor' found terrifying.
Forget it, Ikki thought. I'll do it for the Senju brothers.
In the end, he had spent decades in peaceful retirement living on their land, eating their food, and spending their money. Hashirama and Tobirama had kept their word; they had never let the chaos of the world disturb his rest until the day they died.
The three Elders of the 'F4' stood with their heads bowed, not daring to utter a single word of protest as Ikki disparaged their village. What could they say? Konoha had indeed fallen into a state of ruin under their watch. They could bluff and scheme against others, but before them stood the 'Iron Fist'—a man who had remained undefeated since the bloody days of the Warring States. Nothing they said could fool a man of his experience.
Nearby, Kato Dan remained on the ground. His shoulder was still dislocated from Ikki's 'casual' grip, and his legs felt like jelly. He watched in stunned silence, unable to even stand.
"Find someone to lead the way," Ikki commanded. He reached up, casually picked his nose, and then—to the horror of the three Elders—wiped his fingers across their pristine robes as they stood there with bowed heads.
He wasn't doing this for the Elders, nor for the village itself. He was doing it for the debt he owed the Senju. After all, there was no such thing as a free lunch, and he'd been a freeloader at the Senju estate for far too long. It was time to stretch his legs before his joints rusted over.
"Thank you, Lord Ikki!" Hiruzen cried, his eyes bright.
"The fate of Konoha and the legacy of our teacher... we entrust it all to you!"
"I will arrange for a guide immediately!"
The Elders were ecstatic. The Iron Fist was returning to the world. Konoha was saved.
The Land of Earth
"The Sannin are trapped inside this mountain! Do not let them escape!"
"Jiraiya was heavily wounded by Lord Tsuchikage and the Four-Tails Jinchuriki. Unless they abandon him, they're going nowhere!"
"They won't. The Sannin are a team; they'd never leave a comrade behind."
Hundreds of Iwa shinobi had completely encircled a jagged, sixty-meter-tall peak, forming a wall of steel and chakra around the trapped Konoha ninja.
"First squad, commence bombardment!" Kitsuchi, the son of the Tsuchikage and commander of the force, shouted with a voice as steady as the earth itself. "Use Earth Style: Stone Cannonade! Second squad, stand by! If the mountain collapses or they try a desperate breakout, suppress them immediately with Earth Dragon Bombs!"
Kitsuchi was a cautious man. He gave his orders with methodical precision, ensuring there were no gaps for the Sannin to exploit.
"Earth Style: Stone Cannonade!"
Nearly a hundred Iwa shinobi stepped forward simultaneously. They spat out volleys of stones that whistled through the air like high-velocity bullets.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The projectiles were small, but their speed and destructive force were immense. Wave after wave of stone hammered into the mountainside, and the rock face began to crumble under the relentless pressure. At this rate, the peak would disintegrate within minutes, burying anyone inside.
Still no breakout? Kitsuchi wondered, his eyes narrowed as he watched the falling rubble. Tsunade and Orochimaru really won't leave Jiraiya.
It was a noble sentiment, but a fatal one. Once the Sannin were wiped out, the myth of Konoha's invincibility—a legacy standing since the time of the First Hokage—would finally shatter.
"Keep firing!" Kitsuchi ordered, his vigilance only increasing as the end drew near. "Bring it down!"
The first squad of Iwa ninja were grinning, their eyes bright with the prospect of killing the famous Sannin. They stepped forward for another volley, drawing in deep breaths of chakra.
"Earth Style: Stone Cannonade!"
Hundreds of stones tore through the air. But just as they were about to impact the crumbling mountain, a shadow flickered through the Iwa ranks like a ghost. It moved with such impossible speed that it seemed to ignore the laws of physics, leaping directly into the path of the projectiles.
The figure landed firmly on a ledge of the disintegrating rock.
"You Iwa brats," a voice rang out, lazy yet commanding. "Go back to the dirt where you came from."
Ikki stood there, his right hand extended. With a casual, dismissive wave—as if he were merely shooing away a swarm of annoying flies—his palm cut through the air.
The simple movement generated a roaring hurricane of pressure. The sheer force of the displaced air slammed into the oncoming stones, pulverizing them into dust and sending the debris flying back toward the stunned Iwa shinobi.