Yamaji Kippē's words were filled with blatant provocation.
Ebizō and Chiyo's expressions changed instantly. Neither of them had expected someone of Yamaji Kippē's seniority within the Yamaji clan to step forward and block Shiraishi from delivering the torch.
This Yamaji elder was not particularly powerful—at best, an average chūnin—but long ago, before Chiyo and Ebizō had apprenticed under the Second Kazekage, Shamon, the Yamaji family had once shown them kindness.
At the time, Yamaji Kippē and Yamaji Ryoko's father had even allowed the two siblings to borrow books from their household to study foundational ninjutsu.
Later, after Chiyo and Ebizō rose to become elders and advisers to the Kazekage, they had repaid the Yamaji family with more than enough favors and courtesy. Even so, those old ties still existed.
Yamaji Kippē stepping forward now caused the atmosphere to instantly grow heavy.
Shiraishi remained silent, tightening his grip on the torch as he attempted to lift it. Yamaji Kippē let out a cold laugh and clamped down harder, refusing to let go.
"I already said you're not qualified to hold the torch. Are you still trying to deny it?"
Yamaji Kippē was eloquent. In his mouth, Shiraishi became nothing more than a petty man who had relied on flattering the daimyo—someone who had developed vulgar body techniques solely to keep the daimyo's inner palace harmonious.
Many of the female ninja present had heard rumors of this before, but hearing it stated so directly caused their expressions to turn unpleasant.
No matter what, Yamaji Kippē was determined to completely ruin Shiraishi's reputation here.
If he succeeded, Shiraishi would lose any chance of competing for the Kazekage position in the future and would be pushed to the margins—just like that scapegoat in Konoha, Danzō.
"This old bastard has gone too far! Who does he think he is?!"
Shikasa's face darkened as he took a step forward, only to be stopped as Maki grabbed him tightly.
"That's an elder of the Yamaji clan. You can't go up there!"
"But—didn't you hear what he said?!"
"I heard it," Maki replied quietly. "But I believe in Shiraishi. He'll handle this properly."
She was worried, but she also knew that if she or Shikasa rushed in now, they would only make things worse.
"You're not saying a single word. Is that guilt?"
Yamaji Kippē's eyes gleamed with cunning as he pressed on.
"Or are you just an empty genius—someone who stole so-called secret techniques from others?"
The accusations grew harsher with every sentence. Yamaji Kippē spoke more and more freely, reducing Shiraishi to nothing—painting him as a puppet propped up by the Elder Council, utterly useless on his own.
Shiraishi slowly loosened his grip on the torch.
Under the flickering firelight, he looked calmly at Yamaji Kippē. His expression was neutral—but the gaze made the old man's heart shiver.
"Still not denying it?" Yamaji Kippē sneered.
Shiraishi set the torch down.
Then he looked directly at the old man and spoke, his voice devoid of emotion.
"Elder of the Yamaji clan—do you dare receive one slash from me?"
His words were quiet.
Yet they exploded through the crowd like a bomb.
Several Yamaji clan ninja immediately stirred, but Shiraishi did not even glance at them.
"You chose the Sand Festival to provoke me, deliberately stirring trouble. Your goal is nothing more than to incite conflict between the Elder Council and the Kazekage."
"At a time when the battle at Kikyo Pass is approaching, when Iwagakure watches the Enlightenment Mountains like a tiger stalking prey, you still choose to create chaos during the Sand Festival."
"Tell me—do you have Sunagakure in your heart at all?"
Shiraishi did not bother refuting the earlier accusations.
But when he placed the charge of deliberately destabilizing the village upon Yamaji Kippē, the atmosphere subtly shifted.
Many ninja realized then that every word Yamaji Kippē had spoken had implicitly targeted the Elder Council.
In Sunagakure's current dire state, deliberately provoking internal strife was deeply suspicious.
Unfriendly gazes turned toward Yamaji Kippē.
Before the old man could speak again—
Shiraishi's blade slid free of its sheath.
A silver arc gleamed in the night, radiating cold intent.
Killing intent surged.
Yamaji Kippē's body stiffened in terror.
At the end of the day, he was nothing more than a retired, washed-up chūnin—an empty old fool.
"Uncle may be drunk," a voice said suddenly.
"Don't take it to heart. I'll take that slash for him."
Yamaji Ryōko flashed forward, positioning herself between them.
The pressure of Shiraishi's blade and words had turned the scene deadly. Though foolish, Ryōko understood the situation well enough to step in.
Shiraishi showed no hesitation.
Facing the current head of the Yamaji clan, he swung.
His silver blade, paired with Wind Release, erupted into countless storm blades in an instant.
He's actually going for the kill!
Though a puppet master, Yamaji Ryōko was also the head of one of the Sand-Release Three Lineages. Her sand control was formidable.
A massive wall of sand surged upward, crushing every incoming wind blade and shielding Yamaji Kippē completely.
As the sand slowly settled, Yamaji Ryōko noticed the furious gazes of the two elders on the platform. She forced a smile.
"Let's end this here. Uncle, we're leaving."
What a pity…
Just as many thought Shiraishi's attack had been fully blocked—
His blade slid back into its sheath.
But the shattered wind blades had not disappeared.
Behind Yamaji Kippē, they reassembled.
A colossal Cyclone Blade formed.
"You didn't catch it."
With that soft remark, the blade fell.
Yamaji Ryōko turned—
And saw her uncle split apart by the Cyclone Blade.
Head and body separated instantly. His head spun through the air, eyes frozen in disbelief, blood spraying across the stage.
"I welcome retaliation at any time."
The scene was horrifying and drenched in blood.
Yet Shiraishi, the one responsible, calmly picked up the torch and stepped onto the ceremonial platform.
Step by step, his pace was steady and resolute.
He did not spare a glance for the blood-soaked ground behind him.
From the moment the Yamaji clan launched their malicious provocation, Shiraishi had decided—there would be no mercy.
Since ancient times, the path to becoming an Shadow had always been paved with blood.
What Shiraishi displayed just now—his decisiveness and bearing—made Ebizō and Chiyo see, for an instant, the heroic aura of the First Kazekage who had once unified the Land of Wind.
Yamaji Kippē's death, under normal circumstances, would have been a massive incident.
But today, he had chosen to provoke violence during the Sand Festival itself.
He had brought this upon himself.
Clad in purple, Shiraishi delivered the torch to the two elders as promised.
He knelt on one knee.
"I have not failed my duty."
In the next moment—
The entire Sunagakure erupted in cheers.
Compared to Yamaji Kippē's accusations, Shiraishi's ruthless retaliation ignited the people's hearts instead.
From him, they saw Sunagakure's future.
As for those rumors about secret techniques?
They were already forgotten.
Members of the Elder Council faction were visibly stirred. If the Yamaji clan dared to continue their provocations, they were fully prepared to wipe them out.
With the Kazekage absent, this incident could even serve as justification to eliminate the Sand-Release Three Lineages altogether—stripping the Kazekage of his support.
After all, the Yamaji clan had struck first.
Yamaji Ryōko stood frozen.
She could not comprehend how her sand defense had failed—or how Shiraishi's Wind Release had been refined enough to re-form the blade after destruction.
"That brat is asking for death!"
Just as she was about to lose control, Arakawa Akita grabbed her arm.
"Don't give the Elder Council an excuse to butcher the Sand-Release clans. The Kazekage isn't in the village!"
Akita could only sigh inwardly.
How had his cousin raised such a daughter?
And such an idiot brother?
Today's events would likely become an eternal humiliation for the Sand-Release Three Lineages.
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