Shikaku's command cracked across the camp.
The shinobi stationed at each scroll slammed their hands down. Seals flared. White smoke erupted in a massive ring around the perimeter.
When it cleared—
Massive anti-landing barriers—twenty-foot spikes of reinforced stone—jutted from the sand like the teeth of some buried titan. They formed a perfect circle around the Konoha-Taki position, angled outward at killing angles.
The lead sand ships couldn't stop in time.
The first vessel impaled itself on three spikes simultaneously. The deck exploded inward, wood and metal shrieking as the ship's momentum drove it deeper onto the barriers. Shinobi on board screamed as the floor buckled beneath them.
CRASH. CRASH. CRASH.
Three more ships hit. One flipped vertical—stern rising as the bow caught, the entire vessel tilting ninety degrees like a capsizing ocean liner. Ninja tumbled off the deck, bodies cartwheeling through the air.
Shikaku's voice was ice.
The sky went black with projectiles.
Kunai. Shuriken. Explosive tags. Thousands of them, launched in perfect volleys by Konoha's ranged specialists. They arced up, then down, falling like steel rain onto the airborne ninja.
Bodies jerked. Blood sprayed. Shinobi hit the sand with wet thuds, limbs twisted at wrong angles.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
"Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire!"
"Fire Release: Dragon Flame Bomb!"
The battlefield ignited.
Massive fireballs slammed into grounded sand ships. Flames roared across decks, consuming wood and canvas. Smaller fire-projectiles peppered the fleet like incendiary buckshot. One ship's fuel reserves caught—the explosion sent debris raining across half the battlefield.
The following vessels tried to brake. Too late. They crashed into each other, piling up in a tangled mess of wood and metal and screaming crew.
From his command ship, Jinghang saw the trap snap shut.
They'd known. Konoha had known.
"ABANDON SHIP!" His voice boomed across the fleet. "ALL UNITS, DISEMBARK AND ENGAGE!"
The fire was a problem—but not an insurmountable one. This was the desert. Sand smothered flames. And once his troops hit the ground, Konoha's defensive advantage evaporated.
Hatches burst open. Ramps dropped. Thousands of Suna and Kumo shinobi poured out, forming combat squads mid-sprint. They hit the sand running, weapons drawn, charging straight into Konoha's lines.
"ENGAGE THE ENEMY!"
Shikaku's counterorder was immediate.
The two armies collided.
No jutsu. No tactics. Just steel and fury and blood.
A Suna chūnin drove his tanto through a Konoha jōnin's throat. A Kumo kunoichi shattered a Taki shinobi's skull with a lightning-enhanced punch. Blades clashed. Bones broke. Screams echoed across the dunes.
The ambush had become a brawl.
Konoha Command Tent
"This isn't the Yuexi garrison."
Amemiya's voice was flat. Dead.
"This is the main army."
Danzō glanced at him. Said nothing.
"You knew." Amemiya's hands clenched. "You knew the entire time, and you didn't tell me. Didn't even discuss it—"
"Information security." Danzō's eye never left the battlefield. "Couldn't risk a leak."
"A leak?" Amemiya's voice rose. "You think I'd—"
Danzō turned. His smile was all edges.
"You want to whine? Fine. Do it after we win." He stepped closer. "Or are you saying you can't handle a real fight?"
Amemiya's mouth opened. Closed.
Danzō's expression shifted. Almost... friendly.
"I heard you have a technique. Dragon's Roar, wasn't it? Long-range bombardment?"
"I—" Amemiya blinked. "Yes. But it takes time to charge, and the seals are complex—"
"Doesn't matter." Danzō pointed. "See that mast? The tall one?"
Amemiya followed his finger. Squinted. "...Yes?"
"That's Jinghang's flagship. If I'm right." Danzō's smile widened. "Think you can hit it?"
Amemiya measured the distance. His pride warred with his exhaustion.
"Good." Danzō slapped his shoulder. "Then do it. Blow that bastard out of the sky."
Amemiya hesitated. Then his jaw set.
Fine. If nothing else, I can make Jinghang suffer.
He dropped into a crouch. Chakra flared around him, visible as a purple-white aura. His hands blurred through seals—fast, faster than most jōnin could manage.
Danzō's eyebrow rose. Impressive.
Amemiya's face flushed red, then purple. Veins stood out on his temples. Chakra roared through his system, building, compressing, shaping into something massive.
His eyes snapped open.
"DRAGON'S ROAR!"
His palms slammed forward.
A dragon exploded from his hands.
Not metaphorical. Not symbolic. A thirty-foot serpent of solid purple chakra, complete with scales and fangs and eyes that burned. It shrieked—a sound like tearing metal—and launched itself across the battlefield.
Amemiya collapsed. Jūri caught him before he hit the ground.
The dragon hit.
The flagship disintegrated. Wood, metal, bodies—all vaporized in the blast. The shockwave flattened three nearby ships. Debris rained across the battlefield like hail.
"Beautiful!" Danzō's fist pumped. "All Jinchūriki, advance! CRUSH THEM!"
"WHICH BASTARD JUST DESTROYED MY SHIP?!"
Every head snapped up.
Jinghang floated in the sky.
Not flying. Floating. Standing on a dozen spheres of black iron sand, each one the size of a boulder, suspended in midair like stepping stones. The sun blazed behind him, turning his silhouette into something divine.
"Jinghang," Danzō breathed.
"That's the Kazekage?" Amemiya swallowed his chakra pill, staring.
"That was Sand Ship Zero-Zero-One!" Jinghang's voice carried across the entire battlefield. "Do you have any idea how much that cost?! The village gave me that ship, but I pay for maintenance! I pay for repairs! And you just—"
He looked down at the wreckage.
Seventy million for the base model. Another hundred-thirty million in custom work by Sasori. Luxury interior, enhanced speed, reinforced hull—
Two hundred million ryō.
"You're all going to die."
His hands rose.
"IRON SAND: CURTAIN RAIN!"
The sky went black.
Not with smoke. With metal. Thousands—tens of thousands—of iron needles materialized above the battlefield, each one the size of a kunai, all aimed down.
Shinobi screamed. Blood sprayed. Bodies dropped like puppets with cut strings. The iron rain didn't discriminate—Suna, Kumo, Konoha, Taki, it killed them all.
"Fū!" Amemiya's voice cracked. "Take him down!"
"Yes, Lord Takikage!"
A silver-haired youth stepped forward. His back split—not bloodily, but smoothly, like opening a door—and two translucent wings emerged. They beat once, twice, making a sound like a thousand cicadas.
He launched into the sky.
Danzō's eye widened. "A Jinchūriki..."
Jinghang's gaze locked onto the approaching figure.
His smile was cold.
"Seven-Tails, huh?"
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