Chapter 123: Tactics
"What is it you people actually want!?"
A furious roar rang out from within a white tent, pitched at the border where Konoha and Iwa forces had drawn their lines. At that moment, while Uchiha Kei and his team were busy scouting Mist-nin, an entirely different kind of battle was unfolding—one of diplomacy.
Namikaze Minato sat calmly in his seat, unshaken by the outburst of the Iwa shinobi standing before him. He looked at the man—face twisted in anger—and suddenly found him… amusing. The performance was almost theatrical.
Over the past few days, Minato had watched this same routine play out countless times.
One moment the man would rage and slam the table.
The next, he'd awkwardly say he needed to "consult the Tsuchikage."
And sometimes, he'd even adopt a look of reluctant concession, pretending Konoha was getting the better deal—before dragging the talks out again.
In short, this man had become a master of diplomatic theatrics.
If there were an award for best performance in a war negotiation, Ikeda Takeshi would've been a frontrunner.
Had Konoha's negotiation team not received inside intel—thanks to Uchiha Kei—about Iwa's true bottom line, they might've actually been forced to make concessions.
They didn't trust this man's words.
But neither could they dismiss everything he said—because, without knowing Iwa's real stance, they couldn't risk a miscalculation.
They used his expressions, his tone, even the subtlest shifts in behavior to read between the lines and gauge Iwa's true position.
But now?
Things had changed.
---
"We've already made our demands very clear."
Minato spoke with steady composure, his gaze unwavering as he looked at Ikeda Takeshi—this clever, silver-tongued Iwa shinobi who, though not from any major clan, had been entrusted with full negotiating authority.
"Hah!"
Ikeda let out a derisive laugh, as if pushed past the point of patience.
"That enormous compensation sum—you think we're idiots? Let me make it clear: we don't have that kind of money. We're still fighting Kumo! How could we possibly come up with such a large amount?!"
Minato didn't flinch.
"That's not our concern," he replied evenly, tone cool and detached. "How you come up with it is up to you."
Ikeda frowned deeply, his frustration evident.
He couldn't figure out Minato's posture—why this newcomer had so confidently taken control of the talks.
But one thing was certain.
Minato's presence alone had become a massive psychological weapon against Iwa.
No one could forget the battlefield legend of the "Yellow Flash"—that golden blur that moved like a phantom, cutting down fifty Iwa shinobi in the blink of an eye.
Still, Ikeda didn't understand something:
Why was this man now leading the negotiations?
Why had someone who rose so quickly suddenly taken over the diplomatic front as well?
Just days ago, it was clearly Nara Shikaku who had been handling all the negotiations. But now—he was simply sitting to the side, like a spectator watching a play.
"Has Nara Jōnin also agreed to this arrangement?"
Ikeda Takeshi suddenly turned toward him and asked, "You're letting an outsider take over the talks? Is it that your Hokage no longer trusts you? Or is it that Namikaze—Jiraiya's disciple—pressured you into giving up the lead?"
"You can stop trying to test my stance," Shikaku replied with a sigh. "And your attempts at sowing discord… aren't exactly subtle."
His voice was calm and steady, utterly unfazed.
"I can tell you plainly: the authority to lead these talks was given to Minato by me. I believe he's the right person to handle this phase of the negotiation."
Shikaku's words were firm, confident, and entirely without resentment.
This threw Ikeda off for a moment—he hadn't expected such transparency.
---
The talks between Iwa and Konoha had already dragged on for days.
What remained unresolved was the compensation clause.
Ikeda was fully aware that Konoha's demands weren't exactly excessive. In fact, by most standards, they were reasonable.
One could even argue Iwa was still coming out ahead.
But something about the terms made him suspect that Konoha was weaker than they let on—that they lacked the decisiveness of a true victor.
That led Ikeda to believe: there was room to push back.
After all, Konoha had endured all three Great Ninja Wars. By this point, they had to be running on fumes.
Especially before facing Iwa, they'd been fighting a two-front war—battling both Kumo and Suna at the same time.
Truth be told, Ikeda still held some resentment toward their own Tsuchikage.
Why did the Third Tsuchikage insist on launching a sneak attack on the Raikage?
That reckless move caused Kumo—furious and bent on revenge—to immediately retreat and consolidate their forces, pulling out of the war with Konoha. That gave Konoha just enough breathing room to crush Suna, and then turn their full force on Iwa.
While the intention may have been to destabilize Kumo and win greater spoils, it had backfired.
Kumo's quick withdrawal had given Konoha the upper hand.
And although Konoha's battle with Suna had been bloody and intense, without Kumo pressing from the rear, they had been able to mobilize their remaining strength to defeat Iwa.
Ikeda could only feel frustrated by how things had turned out—but even so, he still firmly believed:
Konoha was spent.
If he could just hold out, they would crumble first.
The current offer might satisfy the Tsuchikage, but not him.
As an Iwa negotiator, it was his duty to push for more—to guard against Konoha overreaching, and to extract as much advantage as possible.
---
"…It seems your side doesn't truly wish to negotiate," Ikeda finally said, rising to his feet. His tone had changed—no longer angry, but eerily calm.
"Very well, then. Let's both take an hour to cool off. We can resume the talks afterward."
Minato stood as well, his tone just as neutral.
"Agreed. But allow me to share a piece of information with you before you go—"
He looked directly into Ikeda's eyes.
"Konoha's forces have fully regrouped. In five minutes, we'll be entering your encampment.
Combat duration: thirty minutes."
"You—!" Ikeda's expression changed instantly.
"You're trying to force this into a fight?! If that's your intention, then just say it outright! You think we're afraid of Konoha!?"
The room suddenly shifted.
Every Iwa ninja present stood up, tension crackling in the air.
But beneath the bravado, a quiet dread settled in.
After all, Namikaze Minato wasn't just anyone.
His name was printed right there in the Iwa combat manual—marked with a chilling warning:
> "If encountered, abandon the mission."
Against this man, most Iwa shinobi harbored an instinctive fear.
He was practically synonymous with death itself.
---
"Jōnin Ikeda," Minato said calmly, "we've already shown you more than enough good faith."
"For days now, we've given you time and space to deliberate. But you've pushed too far."
"You Konoha shinobi are just too greedy!" Ikeda snarled, his voice rising. "If you really want to fight, fine! But don't pretend you're fighting for peace!"
His words rang with conviction—at least on the surface.
He sounded like a man who genuinely desired peace.
But Minato simply sighed and looked at him with an amused expression.
"…How is the Tsuchikage's son, Jōnin Kitsuchi, doing?"
"W-What?" Ikeda blinked, and his face immediately went pale.
Kitsuchi had returned to the Iwa camp severely injured and unconscious.
No one knew what exactly had happened—only that his arm was severed, his body nearly bled dry, and he still hadn't regained consciousness.
"Ah, yes. That Kitsuchi," Minato said softly, his eyes boring into Ikeda's.
"Some Iwa radicals attacked Konoha shinobi during this ceasefire. Naturally, we retaliated."
"And through a few methods… we learned some very interesting things—like how your Tsuchikage has already issued secret orders… and how these radicals were actually—"
"Nonsense!" Ikeda roared, cutting Minato off.
But in that instant, he noticed the Iwa shinobi around him—those assigned to protect him—were no longer looking at him the same way.
And then he noticed something else.
His back was soaked with cold sweat.