A few days later, the news of Iwagakure suffering disastrous losses from Kumogakure's surprise assault spread across the entire shinobi world.
Along with it came a rumor: the Four-Tails' jinchūriki, Rōshi, feeling he had committed an unforgivable mistake and unable to face the spirits of the dead in Iwagakure, had chosen to leave the village and become a wandering monk, hoping to atone for his sins in this way.
At first, the higher-ups of the great shinobi villages treated this rumor with skepticism. But when the Iwagakure forces on the Land of Rain front suddenly withdrew en masse, the truth of it was confirmed.
For a time, every faction's response was different.
Kumogakure, Kirigakure, and Iwagakure—the three great villages most directly involved—were predictable enough: one suppressed laughter, one burned with envy, and the last shrank into itself, quietly tending its wounds.
By contrast, the more subtle reactions belonged to the other factions.
――――
Somewhere in an underground cavern between the Lands of Earth and Fire.
This cavern had expanded considerably; it was no longer as cramped and oppressive as before.
Previously, Madara had been so weakened by the burden of the Rinnegan that he was struggling just to remain alive, let alone put effort into carving out a livable underground refuge.
But ever since he transferred the Rinnegan to Nagato, his lifespan had extended considerably. By his own estimate, he could now live another decade or so.
With more time, Madara had begun to "enjoy" life again, shaping the cavern into a place with the faint traces of habitation.
Watching White Zetsu glance around, barely recognizing the cavern's new look, Madara, seated cross-legged upon a stone bed, allowed himself a rare smile.
"What is it? You don't recognize it anymore?"
White Zetsu grinned in turn, playing along.
"Every time I come back, it really does look a little different."
"Enough of that pointless talk. Tell me—after being away so long, what interesting things have you learned up above?"
Hearing this, White Zetsu perked up. His eyes lit with excitement as he animatedly recounted the events that had unfolded on the Land of Rain battlefield.
After listening, Madara's expression turned disdainful.
"What did I say? Hashirama's ideals were nothing but childish delusions. The shinobi world remains the same as ever—filthy, overflowing with hatred and greed."
After his customary disparagement of Hashirama, Madara actually spoke of Hoshiyomi Gekkō with an unexpected note of respect.
"Still, that Gekkō Hoshiyomi… he's managed to earn a measure of my attention. Barely in his twenties, and already able to stand against the Four-Tails and that brat Ōnoki. Yes, there was luck involved, but still… impressive.
He seems more capable than Hashirama's worthless younger brother. A shame he isn't an Uchiha. Otherwise, he might have made a fine piece for my game.
Who knows—perhaps once I return to life, the first opponent I face will be him. Hmph. Let's hope he'll make for a decent warm-up."
...
In Konohagakure, the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, was in high spirits. He felt as though his luck had been nothing short of extraordinary lately—like dozing off only to have someone bring you a pillow.
When he had first received word that Ōnoki and Rōshi had launched a direct assault on Konoha's main encampment, he'd been shocked, immediately throwing on his battle armor and rushing out, intent on aiding Hoshiyomi.
But before he had even reached Konoha's gates, news arrived: Hoshiyomi, Jiraiya, and Shinku together had forced Ōnoki and Rōshi into retreat.
All three were unharmed—and even had the presence of mind to advise him to spread the news of Ōnoki leaving his village to both Kumo and Kiri.
And sure enough, just as Hiruzen dispatched shinobi to disseminate the intelligence, reports of Iwagakure's withdrawal reached him.
There was nothing to say—he was simply elated. Taking a satisfied pull on his pipe, Hiruzen leaned back, half-lidding his eyes as he gazed up at the portraits of the First and Second Hokage, his heart brimming with emotion.
"Hashirama-sama, Tobirama-sensei… this useless fool thought he would drag the village into chaos. Yet somehow, I've been blessed with such reliable young successors. With them here, I can actually take pride in being Hokage.
To think—I've shamelessly clung to this seat for over twenty years now, longer than either of you held it yourselves.
But now the younger generation has grown strong. Your granddaughter and her husband stand as pillars of the village. It's about time… this position is returned to the Senju clan."
...
On the Iwagakure front, Hoshiyomi and Shinku were stunned when they received the news. They hadn't expected Kumogakure to move so swiftly—before they could even spread word of Ōnoki's absence, Kumogakure had already struck and finished their raid.
"Nicely done, Brother A. That's… five points."
Watching the Iwa forces busy with retreat, Hoshiyomi chose not to press the matter. He allowed them to withdraw, inwardly delighted. With Iwa retreating, and Suna next on the list, this Second Great Ninja War might soon draw to an end.
By his calculations, the war had already lasted close to two years. If memory served, the Second War had only lasted about five in total. If this conflict ended now, he might finally enjoy a few years of peaceful, everyday life.
――――
Most of Konoha's leadership was overjoyed by the news of Iwagakure's withdrawal. Only one man reacted as though he'd lost his mother: none other than our dear Danzo.
It wasn't the withdrawal itself that frustrated him. No—what truly bothered him was that neither Ōnoki nor Rōshi had managed to kill Hoshiyomi Gekkō.
This only confirmed the troubling reports his subordinates had delivered earlier—Hoshiyomi had indeed broken through to Kage-level. Not just any Kage-level either, but one of exceptional combat power.
Danzō's heart grew heavier. He was already in his forties, yet had never managed to surpass the threshold of seme-Kage. His own bloodline had shackled his talent, leaving him stagnating for decades—just like Koharu and Homura.
But Hoshiyomi? Barely twenty-four years old, and already capable of fighting evenly with the Four-Tails.
Outrageous.
With his battlefield merits, and his undeniable Kage-level strength, Hoshiyomi was all but guaranteed to be the next Hokage.
Unacceptable.
I haven't even sat in the Hokage's chair yet. How can I let him take it?!
Becoming Hokage himself was one thing, but what infuriated him most was that until recently, he had believed himself at least equal in strength to Hoshiyomi—meaning he could one day have him eliminated. But now? Now that Hoshiyomi had stepped into the Kage level, assassination was no longer even a possibility.
And if Hoshiyomi returned to the village and overturned the table, exposing all of Danzō's dirty deeds… how could he ever maintain his footing in Konoha?
No. That could never be allowed to happen. He couldn't just sit and wait for the noose to tighten.
If killing Hoshiyomi was no longer feasible, then at the very least, he had to prevent the man from undermining his position.
There was only one path left.
Danzo's eyes gleamed with cold resolve. He turned to the subordinate beside him.
"How far has Hiruko's human-cell transplant experiment progressed?"
"It seems there have already been successful cases as of recently."
Danzo's eyes lit up at the reply. He slapped the table and declared:
"Tell him to pack his things. He's coming back to the village with me. Tell him… the plan is ready to begin."