In this football match, our team's main striker—the Third Hokage—has just scored a world-class goal!
And then the enemy was swallowed by the vast ocean of the people's war!
…Alright, thank goodness wars didn't require live commentary.
Because if they did—and if the commentator role were ever handed to Hagoromo—there was no telling what kind of nonsense would come out of his mouth.
So as he watched the Third Hokage's overwhelming battlefield performance, Hagoromo could only supply his own wildly inappropriate internal narration.
The Third Hokage was rampaging through the enemy ranks, staff sweeping left and right, utterly unmatched for the moment. But it looked like the Kazekage was about to make his move.
There was a good chance the leaders of two villages were about to collide head-on.
Strong as the Third Hokage was, danger was clearly approaching. And when danger loomed, a warning was necessary—mental preparation mattered. At the very least, it prevented being caught completely off guard.
So Hagoromo immediately sent a report to the command center.
Once the message was relayed, the reply he received was simple:
Continue monitoring.
That told Hagoromo everything he needed to know. Ground operations would be handled by Tsunade.
So he resumed forward observation.
At this point, the distance he needed to cover was already quite short. By hovering near the center of the battlefield, he could monitor almost everything without flying back and forth.
The reason was simple: both sides were now thoroughly intermingled, and the overall scale of the battlefield had begun to compress.
Just as Hagoromo was feeling something along the lines of "I could stay airborne all day like this"—
The bird beneath him suddenly conveyed a distinct emotional fluctuation.
Yes.
Although Yatagarasu couldn't speak like certain toads or snakes, the summoning contract allowed Hagoromo to sense some of its intentions.
He carefully walked along its back toward its head, then crouched down until he could see its eyes.
"You want to attack?"
Hagoromo patted Yatagarasu's head.
Their eyeballs were wildly disproportionate in size, but they were very much making eye contact.
He wasn't sure whether he was talking to the bird—
Or to himself.
Yes. Yatagarasu had just expressed a desire to attack the enemy.
Its exact method was unclear, but if it intended to descend and engage directly, Hagoromo absolutely could not allow that.
At present, they were flying at an altitude of roughly two hundred meters.
At that height, they were effectively safe—very few ninjutsu had a range exceeding two hundred meters, and even fewer could reliably hit an aerial target.
But if Yatagarasu lowered its altitude?
That was a completely different story.
If it tried to swoop down and rake the enemy with its claws, it would be shot down instantly.
"Wait—wait a second!"
Suddenly, it clicked.
Hagoromo understood Yatagarasu's intended method of attack.
If it couldn't descend—
Then it could conduct an airstrike.
A targeted airstrike.
Yes.
Drop its droppings.
Just imagine—
If Yatagarasu could drop a massive load right onto the Kazekage's head—
The scene alone would be legendary.
Hagoromo would have just accomplished the greatest military feat since the founding of the ninja villages—
No.
Since the Sage of Six Paths founded ninshū.
The Fourth Kazekage was struck by a half-ton high-altitude falling object (avian biological payload).
Status: deceased.
What a tragic life.
What a powerful epitaph.
Even if it didn't kill him, it would disgust him beyond recovery.
After getting hit by that, Hagoromo refused to believe the Kazekage would ever dare show his face again.
Forget legacy—Gaara would be born smelling like crap.
That would become the Kazekage family's inherited aura.
Thus—
Not only did Hagoromo not stop Yatagarasu—
He actively helped it aim.
Among the Sand command staff, there was one particularly ostentatious individual wearing a hat with the character "Wind" emblazoned on it.
That alone was enough for Hagoromo to identify him as suspected Kazekage.
After all, Hagoromo didn't actually know what the Kazekage looked like. Without such a distinctive marker, how could he tell?
That little hat—
Was it supposed to keep off the rain?
Unfortunately for him…
Did he have any idea how wide Yatagarasu's bombardment spread was?
That tiny hat was completely useless.
The bird had been living in Shikkotsu Forest for days with severe environmental maladjustment.
Digestion had been… unresolved.
And it had been flying for hours.
It was loaded.
Unfortunately—
Hagoromo guessed the beginning right.
But not the ending.
What Yatagarasu dropped…
Was far more expensive than droppings.
As they neared the Sand command center, Hagoromo calculated relative velocity, altitude, wind speed, and air resistance.
This wasn't harassment.
This was precision bombing.
He was ready to paste the Kazekage's face.
The Sand shinobi had long noticed a massive bird carrying a person circling above the battlefield.
They knew it was Konoha reconnaissance.
But that altitude?
They had no counter.
Their movements were completely exposed—an enormous tactical disadvantage. Hagoromo alone was inflicting immense psychological pressure on the Sand command structure.
Now the bird was flying straight toward them.
But no one panicked.
Let it watch.
It couldn't attack them.
And if it descended?
Even better—they'd shoot it down in seconds.
Clearly, the enemy wasn't that stupid.
But then—
One Sand shinobi noticed something strange.
A vertical white streak appeared beneath the bird.
"…What is that?"
Whatever it was, on a battlefield this tense, his mouth reacted faster than his brain.
"Enemy attack!!!"
Then—
BOOM!
A massive object slammed into the ground at his feet.
It wasn't smashed.
It exploded.
Exploded.
Exploded.
Exploded.
Then—
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!
A chain of detonations.
At that moment, the Sand shinobi were completely dumbfounded.
This was supposed to be a land war.
Why did Konoha have air force and bombers?!
Referee! This isn't scientific! This isn't fair!
But in truth, it wasn't just the Sand who were stunned.
Konoha was stunned.
Even Hagoromo was stunned.
When he realized Yatagarasu wasn't dropping droppings—
But eggs—
His first instinct had been to stop it.
Don't be so extravagant! Those are your life savings! You're young—don't waste your eggs! It's bad for your body!
Then he heard the explosions.
Then he saw the smoke rising from the Sand command center.
For a moment, his brain short-circuited.
"…Is that egg yolk?"
And then—
Through explosion after explosion—
He understood.
This wasn't yolk.
This was a fuel–air explosive.
So you're a bomber?!
Why didn't you tell me earlier?!
Well… the bird wasn't very smart. It couldn't talk. And when Hagoromo captured it, it hadn't bombed him either.
Whether the Kazekage was hit remained unknown.
But what was certain—
Hagoromo had just accidentally obliterated the Sand command structure.
The White Lightning, who had intended to keep a low profile—
Had stolen the spotlight again.
But Hagoromo didn't see it that way.
In this war—
He felt deeply tragic.
It wasn't that he had a useless bird.
It was that the bird was useful without him.
It wasn't that he was useless—
It was that his eggs were.
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