Three masked figures knelt in the Mizukage's office, their expressions hidden but their voices heavy.
"Reporting, Lord Mizukage. The assault fleets have been completely destroyed. All Seven Swordsmen have fallen… and Yagura has been captured."
At those words, the Mizukage's dull, unfocused eyes seemed to regain clarity, if only for a moment.
"I see," he murmured. "Then… is the enemy advancing toward the village?"
The ANBU hesitated. Something in the Mizukage's tone unnerved them. It was as if he had foreseen the entire disaster long before it happened and wanted this outcome.
The Mizukage rose and stepped toward the window, looking out over the village shrouded in mist.
"Gather the ANBU. Tell the people to retaliate to the death. Anyone who attempts to flee… eliminate them. No exceptions."
The ANBU bowed their heads.
"…Yes, sir."
They vanished in a flicker of movement, leaving the office silent.
A faint smile touched the Mizukage's lips, though it did not reach his glazed eyes.
Soon, the beating of drums and instruments could be heard coming from the sea.
…
Blackbeard gazed toward the distant village, its outline blurred by rising mist.
Beside him now stood Mito, who had just returned from the Land of Whirlpools, where she had honored her fallen clan and released the lingering spirits that had aided her against the Mist fleets and the Three-Tails.
"What's the plan?" Blackbeard asked without looking at her. "We're only taking out the ones who fight back?"
"Niji has already scouted the area." Mito's voice carried a hint of sorrow. "Those who tried to escape were executed. And those unwilling to fight… have been forced to." She paused. "If anyone casts down their weapon, let them live."
Blackbeard stayed silent for a moment. His eyes remained fixed on the mist-covered village, though his thoughts wandered elsewhere.
"It seems they have chosen war," he muttered. "Doesn't matter as long as they've got enough gold left for me to enjoy."
Mito didn't answer. The mist shifted, swirling like a curtain, and the cries of distant shinobi echoed faintly through the valley.
The first light of dawn barely pierced the heavy mist as Blackbeard signaled.
Blackbeard drew a deep breath, feeling the pulse of the village beneath the fog. "Now," he whispered.
A series of low, controlled explosions shattered the silence as the fleet cannons fired upon the Mist Village.
Soon, the fleet docked, and Blackbeard Legion began their assault on the village.
From the alleyways and rooftops, Mist shinobi emerged, their swords gleaming and kunai spinning in their hands.
They moved as one, striking with deadly precision at Blackbeard's forces. Smoke and dust blurred the air, and the sharp crack of chakra-enhanced blows rang against the fog.
"Hold the line!" one jonin shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos. "Do not let them break through!"
Blackbeard's grin widened as he spun through the first wave, cutting down shinobi who lunged recklessly.
Mito's eyes narrowed. "They're organized. Not as weak as we thought after wiping out most of their attack forces."
A Mist ANBU wielding a sword leapt from a rooftop, landing directly in Blackbeard's path. Chakra flared around him, his blade slicing the air with the speed of a storm. Blackbeard parried and countered, sparks flying as steel met steel, each strike reverberating through the street.
From behind, Blackbeard's crew launched a volley of bombs, scattering the remaining defenders. The Mist shinobi regrouped quickly, forming a defensive line near the central plaza. Their leader, a jonin with a scar across his face, raised his voice.
"For the village!"
'Well, it's not like they had a choice either.' He thought.
And somewhere above the village, the Mizukage watched, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. His plan was unfolding exactly as he had anticipated.
The streets of the Mist Village became a storm of steel and chakra.
Blackbeard moved like a shadow of death, cutting down any shinobi who came too close, but every step forward revealed another line of defenders.
Mito advanced with eerie calm, her chakra flaring with controlled precision. She disarmed and incapacitated shinobi before they could even react, yet she always left a path for those who surrendered.
The Mist shinobi, realizing brute force was no longer enough, began using the village itself as a weapon. Bridges collapsed under hidden explosives, alleyways became deathtraps lined with kunai and tripwires, and torrents of water from the village canals were unleashed to sweep invaders off their feet.
A jonin leapt from a rooftop, his blade infused with chakra, and collided with Blackbeard. The shockwave from the impact sent nearby streets splintering, shattering wooden beams, and throwing dust into the air. Blackbeard grinned, countering with a spinning strike that sent the jonin tumbling back—but several more Mist shinobi immediately replaced him.
Regardless of how fiercely the Mist shinobi fought, the tide of battle pressed them back. Slowly, inexorably, they were cornered. Soon, only twenty remained, their backs pressed against the Mizukage's imposing tower.
"We're doomed," one whispered, his voice barely carrying over the chaos. He let his hands fall, dropping his kunai to the ground.
One by one, others followed, kneeling or sinking to the dirt, their weapons clattering across the stone streets—except for the surviving jonin.
Seeing the surrendering posture of those around him, he lashed out and aimed his blade at the head of the closest person to him.
Time seemed to slow. Mito's gaze sharpened, her chakra flaring around her in a subtle, controlled surge. Blackbeard's grin widened as he advanced, the movement deliberate, predatory.
Before the blade could reach its target, the world seemed to tilt and spin. The Jonin's eyes widened in disbelief as a severed arm, still gripping a blade, flew through the air. Before his vision darkened, he saw a headless body fall to the ground.
Mito and Blackbeard moved past the surrendered shinobi and headed up the Mizukage tower.
The staircase seemed to stretch endlessly, the muffled sounds of the ruined village far below fading into silence.
Soon, they reached the top of the tower.
Without a word, Blackbeard slammed his shoulder into the door. The heavy wood splintered and fell away with a thunderous crash.
The first thing he saw was the Mizukage's back. The Third stood before the windows, the rising sun casting long shadows across the room. He did not turn immediately, as if he had been expecting them all along.
Mito followed quietly. Chakra coiled around her, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
The Mizukage finally shifted, slowly turning to face them. His glazed eyes met them.
Mito, after seeing the Third Mizukage, slowly let the chakra coiling around her hands dissipate, shaking her head.
"He has been controlled. Nothing but a puppet."
Blackbeard's eyes narrowed, scanning the Mizukage carefully. "A puppet…" he repeated, the word tasting of opportunity. "Then the real threat isn't him?"
Mito's lips pressed into a thin line. "No," she said. "Whoever has him—whoever is pulling the strings—is the one we need to worry about. For now… he will fight only if they want him to."
The Mizukage's head tilted slightly, as if acknowledging her words, though he could not speak them.
Without saying another word, he brought a kunai to his throat and slashed it open.
Silence fell as the body of the Third Mizukage fell to the floor.