At the same time, on the road to the Land of Earth's border.
Hanzō of the Salamander and Hattori Murakami were making their way toward Iwagakure's frontier.
"Lord Hanzō," Murakami asked nervously, "isn't it a bit dangerous for just the two of us to attend this meeting?"
Though he revered the man beside him—a living legend called "Demigod" by all shinobi—he couldn't help but feel uneasy.
After all, Iwagakure was famous for its overwhelming numbers. Their "wave tactics" had crushed countless enemies, and the border alone was said to hold several times Amegakure's entire fighting force. Walking into that territory with only two people felt like suicide.
"Don't worry," Hanzō replied calmly. "If anything goes wrong, you run. Your speed is among the best in Amegakure. I'll hold them off—you'll make it back. Warn the others and prepare the village if that happens."
He continued with a faint smile. "Besides, don't let their numbers frighten you. Ōnoki's mass-mobilization strategy comes at a cost. There are fewer than five jōnin at the border—most are wartime chūnin and genin. Iwagakure shinobi aren't exactly known for speed. You'll be fine."
Murakami's eyes shone with admiration.
"Such composure and confidence… Lord Hanzō truly lives up to his title as the Demigod."
Before long, they reached the Iwagakure border.
A massive stone ridge loomed ahead, covered with watchful Iwa ninja. Even Murakami, who had steeled himself mentally, couldn't stop his knees from trembling.
"I am Hanzō of the Salamander," Hanzō called out, his voice echoing off the cliffs. "I've come at your Tsuchikage's invitation. Announce my arrival."
---
Inside the Iwagakure Camp
A messenger hurried into the main tent. "Lord Tsuchikage, Hanzō has arrived!"
"So soon?" Ōnoki raised a brow.
"Yes, my lord—and there are only two of them."
Ōnoki smirked. "Only two? No wonder they moved so fast. What nerve… I expected him to send envoys, not come himself. Does he really think he can walk into Iwagakure territory and walk back out?"
He chuckled darkly. "Seems Hanzō really believes his own 'Demigod' reputation. He has no idea what true monsters is."
He rose slowly, his short frame radiating authority. "Let's go greet him. I'm curious just how divine this 'Demigod' really is."
The thought was already forming in his mind: Hanzō would not leave this place alive.
---
Escorted by Iwa ninja through a maze of rock passages, Hanzō and Murakami were finally brought before Ōnoki himself.
Ōnoki looked in high spirits, which immediately set off alarm bells in Hanzō's mind. He signaled Murakami subtly to stay alert.
"Let's not waste time with pleasantries," Hanzō began bluntly. "Tell me what Iwagakure wants."
Ōnoki smiled thinly. "Straight to the point, as expected from the great Hanzō. Fine, then. We suspect that Sunagakure has allied with Konoha. That puts us in a difficult position. Konoha already has the advantage, and fighting both at once would cost us dearly."
He leaned back casually. "Don't doubt it—Konoha's greatest talent lies in forming alliances… and betraying them later. I'd rather watch their 'allies' bleed first."
Hanzō's tone sharpened. "So you're proposing an alliance with us?"
Ōnoki burst into laughter. "An alliance? Don't be naïve. That's for children. This is a transaction. Konoha has already invaded the Land of Rain—I'm sure you're not pleased about that."
"If Sunagakure joins the fight, we'll handle them. We'll minimize the destruction to your land, and after the war, Iwagakure will provide compensation. How about it?"
Hanzō chuckled coldly. "Ōnoki, spare me the sugarcoating. A trade requires equal value on both sides. You're trying to make me fight your battles for free."
He continued, voice steady and cutting. "Your main objective in this war is to weaken Konoha. Even if Sunagakure really did ally with them, that alliance won't last. Their coordination will be poor, and they won't waste their limited strength on anyone else. If the two of you clash, it'll be little more than a show of force—nothing decisive."
"And Sunagakure," he added with a scoff, "is the weakest of the Five Great Nations. Fighting them is child's play."
He took a step forward. "Konoha, however, knows the situation. They struck first and will fight with everything they have. Even if they did ally with the Suna, they'll stay wary of betrayal and commit their best forces. You want to use us as expendable pawns? Not a chance."
"Besides," Hanzō said, voice low and firm, "this is our home turf. As long as Amegakure holds the high ground and the weather, neither Konoha nor Iwa will risk wasting troops here. Between us and the two great villages, tell me—which side has more to lose?"
He smiled mockingly. "Face it, Ōnoki—you want to reap rewards without spending a single coin. You're chasing ghosts."
For a brief moment, the air went still. Then Ōnoki's expression hardened.
"I underestimated you, Hanzō. I thought you were just a warrior, but it seems your mind is just as sharp."
His tone dropped several degrees colder. "But tell me—aren't you afraid of making an enemy of Iwagakure? We could crush a tiny village like yours with ease. Offering cooperation was me showing respect. Don't mistake that for weakness."
Hanzō rose slowly, folding his arms behind his back. "And you think Amegakure fears you? If it's war you want, then so be it. I doubt Konoha will ignore such an opportunity."
Ōnoki's patience snapped. "Don't get arrogant with me, Salamander!"
"If I weren't arrogant, would I still be Hanzō of the Salamander?"
Ōnoki growled, his temper rising. "I thought you were clever, but you're just a fool! Walking into enemy territory alone—no army, no guards! Did you think you'd walk out again? As the head of Amegakure, you must have all your village's secrets in that brain of yours. Once we extract them, Amegakure will crumble!"
He raised his hand. "Capture them! If we take him alive, we'll control Rain Country's defenses and supply lines before the others can even react. Konoha and Suna won't dare cross us!"
"Murakami!" Hanzō shouted.
"Understood!" Murakami vanished in a blur.
"Stop him! Don't let him escape!" Ōnoki slammed his hands to the ground.
"Earth Style: Mud Wall!"
Thick stone barriers erupted from the ground, sealing off the entire camp. Murakami found his escape blocked by two Iwa ninja, and despite his preparation, he couldn't break through.
Hanzō's eyes narrowed. "Ōnoki… you've just dug your own grave."
Chakra flared from the blade at his hip. "Kusarigamajutsu, Second Form!"
"Earth Style: Stone Fist Jutsu!" Ōnoki countered, slamming his stone-coated fist into the oncoming strike, deflecting the scythe.
Hanzō grinned darkly. The sickle spun away—but the chain followed, wrapping around Ōnoki's arm in an instant. With a pull, the diminutive Tsuchikage was yanked forward.
Ōnoki smirked. "Naïve. Earth Style: Weighted Boulder Jutsu!"
A surge of chakra traveled through the chain. Suddenly, it felt as heavy as iron mountain. Hanzō released it immediately, flashed forward, and slammed a kick into Ōnoki's midsection.
Ōnoki was knocked back but quickly recovered midair. "Earth Style: Lightened Boulder Jutsu!" His body stopped falling and floated effortlessly. Hands came together.
"Particle Style: Atomic Dismantling Jutsu!"
A white cube of energy formed in his palms, its glow deadly and absolute.
"I'll acknowledge your title, 'Demigod,' Hanzō. But today, that godhood ends here."
Ōnoki had always scoffed at Hanzō's legend—until now. Facing him directly, he finally understood why that title carried weight.
"Please," Hanzō snorted, "you think you're Madara of the Six Paths? Don't flatter yourself."
He drew his weapon again, wary of the cube's deadly light. Particle Style—even a graze meant certain death.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, Hanzō threw down a smoke bomb.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
"Clone Jutsu!"
The field erupted with dozens of Hanzōs rushing from the smoke.
Ōnoki's eye twitched. "Illusions… no—mixed with solid clones? Shadow Clones and basic illusions together? Troublesome!"
He canceled the cube's charge, switching to defense as chains and blades cut through the haze.
His perception quickly found the chakra signatures of the solid clones. "Found you."
"Particle Style: Atomic Dismantling Jutsu"
The beam of white light vaporized half the illusions—and one clone.
Ōnoki grinned. "Not the real one, huh? Lucky. But next time—"
He ascended higher.
"Think flying saves you?" Hanzō sneered, removing his breathing mask.
"Water Style: Poison Mist Torrent!"
A massive surge of toxic water burst upward, infused with his salamander's venom. But Ōnoki shot even higher, beyond its reach.
"Fire Style: Flame Bombs!"
Hanzō's hands flashed through seals, launching fireballs through the rising water. They hissed upward—but the distance had weakened them. Ōnoki easily swayed aside, dodging each one.
The "Hanzō" below dissolved into smoke.
"Another clone? Running low on chakra, are we?" Ōnoki muttered. "Then where's the real one—?"
He found it instantly. "There."
"Particle Style: Atomic—"
"Body Flicker!"
A flicker of motion—Hanzō appeared beside him, hands forming new seals.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
Flames roared skyward.
"Earth Style: Petrifying Jutsu!" Ōnoki countered, hardening a sash around his waist into stone.
"Earth Style: Steel Binding Jutsu!" The petrified sash expanded into a giant stone figure and plummeted downward, smashing through the fireball and scattering the clones below.
Ōnoki hovered above, Particle Style forming once again. "You're resourceful, Hanzō. Clever enough to find ways to counter Particle Style—but you can't fly. That's the difference. Die."
A beam of white annihilation lanced downward.
Hanzō barely dodged, the ground exploding into vapor behind him. Sweat dripped down his brow.
"Earth Style: Stone Pillar Prison!"
The ground erupted around him, trapping him in a dome of stone.
"Even from above, I can control the earth," Ōnoki said coldly. "That stone giant I made earlier—it can act in my place."
He fired another Particle Style, erasing the prison entirely. When the light faded, nothing remained—no clones, no chakra signatures.
Ōnoki descended carefully. "Two Shadow Clones and a dozen illusions… persistent bastard. Good thing I prepared contingencies."
He touched down lightly—
"Earth Style: Thousand Years of Death!"
The ground split open beneath him. A hand shot up holding a kunai, striking straight at his backside.
Ōnoki's eyes bulged in shock and pain before he was grabbed by the throat and hoisted up.
"You sly old rat," Hanzō growled.
Ōnoki grinned through clenched teeth. "I told you—I always keep a backup."
His body suddenly turned gray—stone.
"An Earth Clone! When—?!"
A blinding flash erupted beside him.
"Particle Style: Atomic Dismantling Jutsu!"
"Now you realized," Ōnoki's voice echoed coolly, "that Steel Binding Jutsu wasn't just for show."
The massive stone giant crumbled apart, revealing the real Tsuchikage floating calmly behind it.
"When I used the technique earlier, it covered your sight for just a moment. That's when I switched places with the clone."
He looked down, expression unreadable. "Not that you'll understand now."
The next instant, Hanzō's form was swallowed by the white light—his body completely disintegrated, leaving nothing behind but silence.