Chapter 11: The Three Legendary Sannin
While Minamoto Ren's squad was locked in a desperate battle against Yoru Kurayami, the clash between Tsunade, Jiraiya, Orochimaru, and Hanzō of the Salamander was also reaching its climax.
Hanzō truly lived up to his fearsome reputation—worthy of being called a Demi-God.
First, he had unleashed his giant salamander to massacre Konoha's lower-ranking shinobi in a systematic slaughter.
Then, even in a three-on-one battle against the future Sannin, he remained utterly undefeated.
It was only now that Orochimaru realized how arrogant he had been.
The ninja world was vast—far more vast than they had imagined—and there were many out there even stronger than them.
Hanzō was one of them.
A genius among geniuses, who rose from an unknown upstart to become the iron-fisted leader of Amegakure.
---
"Ninja Art: Hair Needle Senbon!"
"Monster Strength Punch!"
Jiraiya and Tsunade launched a pincer attack, aiming to knock Hanzō off his summon, the giant salamander.
But Hanzō responded with a single, minimal gesture—and nullified their assault entirely.
Earth Release: Earth Prison Dome of Magnificent Nothingness!
The terrain erupted beneath their feet, reshaping the battlefield.
Jiraiya's needle barrage was swallowed by the earth, and Tsunade was trapped within a dome-shaped earthen prison.
A true master doesn't fight three at once. He turns a three-on-one into three separate one-on-ones.
Hanzō had no intention of dragging the battle out—he would eliminate the medical-nin first, then dispatch the others.
Panic surged in Jiraiya. He quickly began weaving hand seals—
But someone else was even faster.
Orochimaru had seen through Hanzō's plan from the very beginning.
As the final Boar hand sign completed, Orochimaru slammed his palm against the ground.
"Secret Art: Earthshell False Death Technique!"
Dark tadpole-shaped sealing script burst outward across the terrain.
This was a soul-based forbidden technique—powerful, but with a heavy price on the caster.
Orochimaru wasn't spared the backlash.
Tsunade reappeared from beneath the swirling black script, eyes wide with lingering terror—
She had been inches away from having her throat slit by Hanzō's chain-scythe.
"Khak!"
Orochimaru coughed up black-red blood—he was wounded.
"Orochimaru, are you alright?! Let me heal you!" Tsunade rushed toward him, green healing chakra flaring around her hands.
But he raised his hand to stop her.
"It's a soul injury. Your medical ninjutsu won't work on this. Save your chakra."
The earth prison collapsed—but Hanzō still stood tall atop his salamander.
Its cold, beady eyes mirrored its master's emotionless glare.
Across from him, the three young ninja stood side by side—battered, exhausted, but defiant.
"You three… are impressive," Hanzō finally said.
"I have won this battle—but Konoha has won the war."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Look around you. This is the cost your Hidden Leaf has imposed on the Land of Rain. I'll spare your lives today… and from this day forward, the world shall know you as—The Legendary Sannin of Konoha. Remember well the shame that name carries… a title purchased with your comrades' blood."
With that, Hanzō turned away, guiding his salamander through the desolate battlefield.
He didn't spare them so much as a backward glance.
And he had the right to.
This ambush had been devastating.
Before the Leaf shinobi could coordinate, they'd already been overwhelmed.
Corpses of chūnin and genin littered the field.
Only a handful had escaped.
But Hanzō's strength came at a price—Amegakure was at its breaking point.
Their reserve forces were gone.
The younger generations of shinobi had been almost entirely wiped out in battles against both Sunagakure and Konoha.
If this war continued any longer… the Rain Village itself would cease to exist.
Hanzō didn't spare the Sannin out of mercy—it was strategy.
He hoped to use this gesture as leverage for goodwill from Hiruzen Sarutobi.
He wouldn't say it aloud—his pride wouldn't allow it—but the message was clear.
---
The three stood in silence.
The elite jōnin who had fought at their side now lay torn apart by Hanzō's merciless strikes.
The remaining Rain-nin had long since retreated, leaving behind nothing but scorched earth.
They had lost.
Tsunade's first time commanding troops had ended in humiliating defeat.
Her body trembled, and she lowered her head, unable to speak through the grief and shame.
Orochimaru watched her, frowning.
She was spiraling into despair.
So he tried to break her out of it.
"Tsunade. Right now, we need to regroup. Also—earlier, I ordered Mizudori to evacuate Nawaki's team. By now, they should've made it back to the Fire Country."
"Yeah, Tsunade," Jiraiya added. "There's still Nawaki. You've got to pull yourself together. You're the commander of the whole damn army!"
His tone lacked its usual bravado, but his spirit remained unbroken.
Jiraiya wasn't the type to be crushed so easily.
Tsunade slowly raised her head.
A spark returned to her eyes.
Yes—there were still people she needed to protect.
Friends. Family.
She had to stand back up and carry the burden of leadership.
"We're pulling out. Abandon all forward bases in the Land of Rain. There must be scattered survivors from the three battalions—we'll regroup with them and retreat to Konoha."
Tsunade had made her decision.
One on the same level as Hanzō's own.
Rain was no longer sustainable as a battleground.
And if even Amegakure was cracking under pressure, how could Konoha fare better?
White Fang was still entrenched in a tug-of-war with Sunagakure in the Land of Rivers.
Kirigakure was beginning to stir.
And if the Mist joined the fray, then the "Black Devils" of the Lightning Country would surely follow.
If that happened…
Konoha might not survive.
The three figures vanished into the mist, and moments later, the promised thunder and torrential rain came crashing down. Lightning illuminated the carnage strewn across Rain Vortex Gorge. Both sides had paid a steep price. Blood pooled in the mud, corpses littered the battlefield. Hanzō's poisonous gas had corroded every plant in the area down to their roots—only the relentless rain would eventually wash the toxins deep underground.
There were no victors in this war. Only survivors.
---
Elsewhere, deep in a cave within the Land of Fire, Minamoto Ren's squad huddled around a small fire, their faces pale, their noses pinched as they chewed on bitter military rations.
If you asked Ren, these pills were basically Olympic-level stimulants—designed to flood your nerves, accelerate chakra extraction, and keep you moving long after your body should have collapsed.
But too many of them?
They'd fry your brain until your skull felt like it was growing spikes.
Ren licked his cracked lips and glanced sideways at Hyūga Haining, who had been silent since they escaped. The kid hadn't spoken, hadn't eaten. He just sat there, staring at nothing.
Ren narrowed his eyes. Was he traumatized? Ever since Mizudori betrayed them, Haining had completely shut down.
But… it shouldn't be that surprising.
The ninja world thrives on betrayal.
Self-interest and backstabbing were practically cultural values.
The Mist Village was literally called the "Village of the Bloody Mist"—their genin exams involved murdering your teammates just to graduate.
It's only in Konoha, with its overly romanticized ideals, where betrayal still came as a soul-crushing shock.
Ren sighed and nudged a dry, crumbly ration pill toward Haining.
"Eat something, Haining. Your body is… well, the foundation of becoming Hokage."
Despite his own pallor, Ren smiled warmly, a little joke to lighten the mood.
Haining didn't even look at him.
He just took the pill and swallowed it whole.
Honestly?
If Ren handed him a kunai and said, "Swallow this," he might've done it too.
He was that far gone.
The boy's thoughts churned in silent rage.
The Third Hokage, the man he'd revered, had lied to them—sending them to the Land of Rain for some noble "just war."
Mizudori, the jōnin he'd trusted, had stabbed him in the leg just to make a clean getaway.
And who saved him in the end?
Who braved the rainstorm, drew his blade, and cut down elite Rain-nin one after another?
Minamoto Ren.
Sure, there was something fishy about him.
Haining wasn't stupid—what genin could casually slaughter an elite jōnin?
But what did it matter?
That man was his aniki now. His big brother. Period.
Even if the Hyūga clan leader himself resurrected their ancestors and carved the Caged Bird seal onto his forehead—he would not betray Ren.
"Brother Ren… just tell me honestly," Haining finally said, activating his Byakugan and staring intensely.
"Are you a spy from another village? Did you come to Konoha to steal something?"
Ren choked on his ration pill.
Before he could respond, Haining raised a hand to stop him.
"You don't need to lie to me. Whatever you're planning—just say the word. I'll help. Even if you came to steal the Hyūga clan's Byakugan—here, I'll pluck mine out for you right now."
Shocked silence.
Nawaki stared in disbelief.
What the hell is happening right now!?
Ren didn't say a word.
And Haining, taking that as confirmation, stood up and solemnly bowed in the traditional branch-family kneel—the same gesture reserved for Hyūga main family members.
"Ren-aniki… if you don't trust Nawaki, I'll handle him for you. We can defect right now—Rain, Sand, even the Lightning Country. Wherever you go, I'll follow. Whatever you need, I'll do. Just say the word, bro—"
"HEY!!"
Nawaki jumped to his feet, completely dumbfounded.
"Are you serious right now?! Who do you think treated your wounds? Who carried your sorry butt back here? Is this how you repay someone?!"
Ren buried his face in his hands.
This squad was going insane.