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Chapter 3 - The Arrival of the Shadow Monarch

Meanwhile, in the heart of Amegakure, the battle raged on.

The city's narrow streets were drowned under a torrential downpour, each drop shattering against armor and puddles already stained crimson with blood. The metallic walls trembled under the shockwaves of exploding jutsu, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of iron, smoke bombs, and burnt flesh.

The shinobi of Amegakure fought with the desperate ferocity of those defending their home. Some leapt from rooftops to strike from above, others surged out of flooded canals, their blades coated with paralyzing poison, ready to drop an enemy with a single cut. Their forehead protectors, engraved with the symbol of the Rain, gleamed beneath the intermittent flashes of lightning.

Opposite them, Konoha's forces advanced slowly but surely, each step paid for in blood. The most seasoned jōnin led the way, deflecting shuriken with kunai and countering Water Style barrages with earthen walls or wind domes.

In the sea of clashing bodies, three figures stood out above the chaos. At the front was a young Jiraiya, already broad-shouldered, his white hair plastered to his forehead by the rain, leading the charge with a mix of excitement and fury.

"Orochimaru, guard the left flank!" he shouted over the deafening noise.

"You're far too loud, Jiraiya…" came the cold reply.

To his left, Orochimaru seemed to glide over the slick ground, dodging attacks like a serpent cutting through water. His golden eyes glowed in the dim light as he drew his Kusanagi blade in one fluid motion, driving it into an opponent's throat before the man even knew what had happened.

Further back, Tsunade, her face set in fierce concentration, moved from one wounded ally to the next. Her hands glowed a vivid green as she closed gaping wounds in seconds, stopped heavy bleeding, and barked quick orders to nearby scouts.

"Hold the line! I'll handle him!" she commanded a chunin, even as she kicked an Ame shinobi hard enough to send him crashing into a wall.

Their teamwork was flawless, almost instinctive, forged from years of fighting together since their genin days. Orochimaru covered blind spots, Jiraiya smashed through enemy lines with direct assaults, and Tsunade ensured the troops survived long enough to keep fighting.

But despite their coordination, the battle was still sheer brutality. The lightning revealed scenes of horror — an Ame ninja driving a kunai into an enemy's temple, a Konoha genin screaming as his arm was sliced clean off, bodies sliding lifelessly through red-tinged gutters.

Then, amid the chaos, something changed.

A projectile sliced through the air with a shrill whistle — faster than a shuriken, heavier than a kunai. It cut through the rain as if it wasn't there at all, and before anyone could react, it cleanly beheaded two Konoha jōnin. Their bodies collapsed into the mud with a wet thud.

Orochimaru's eyes narrowed. His blade shot out like lightning, intercepting the incoming weapon with a metallic clang. The impact vibrated up his arm, and a thin, predatory smile formed on his lips.

"Kukuku… Hanzo the Salamander…"

The scythe spun through the air, tracing a perfect arc before being caught by a figure plummeting toward the battlefield.

BOOM

The impact was massive. Water and mud exploded outward in waves from the point of impact, knocking nearby shinobi off their feet. The brief, stunned silence that followed was broken by the slow, deliberate sound of heavy footsteps approaching the front line.

The figure straightened. Dark armor with steel-like reflections, imposing shoulder guards, and a monstrous mask that distorted the voice. Behind him, a tangible aura spread outwards like a rising tide.

"So… all the disciples of the old Hiruzen are here," he said.

The voice was deep and raspy, completely at odds with the youthful, lean physique beneath the armor. The mask altered it further, making him sound like a battle-worn veteran who had survived a thousand wars.

Jiraiya swallowed hard and shifted into a fighting stance, his eyes locked on the massive scythe in the intruder's hands.

"Fall back!" Tsunade shouted to the Konoha shinobi behind her, never taking her eyes off him.

Orochimaru, however, allowed himself a faint, almost intrigued smile. His slit-pupiled eyes studied every movement, every subtle shift of weight, like a serpent sizing up a rival predator.

The rain, which until now had muffled the world, seemed to quiet even further — as if the sky itself was holding its breath. Between the two forces, only a wide, blood-tinted puddle remained, reflecting the shadowed figure.

The Ame shinobi, seeing their leader on the battlefield, fought with renewed ferocity, driving the enemy back with coordinated waves of Water Style attacks. The Konoha forces hesitated. They had all heard the rumors of Hanzo the Salamander… and none of them wanted to be the one to test their truth.

Jiraiya clenched his fists.

"So… it's him… the Demigod."

"Demigod?" the masked figure chuckled darkly.

"I'd rather you call me… The Shadow Monarch."

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