Chương 93: Closing the Net

The Land of Hot Water sat nestled in the northeastern corner of the Land of Fire. Along with the Land of the Moon, it served as a buffer zone between the hegemons of Fire and Lightning. Historically, the Land of Hot Water drifted within Konoha's sphere of influence, while the Land of the Moon remained firmly under the thumb of the Cloud. Such was the fate of minor nations caught in the gears of Great Powers. The suffering, however, was reserved for the common folk.

For the Daimyo, the stakes were rarely higher than fluctuating ledgers. The Five Great Hidden Villages, under the subtle influence of their respective sovereigns, maintained a tacit understanding: the Daimyo were untouchable. At least, officially. After centuries of strategic intermarriage, the ruling houses of the Shinobi World were less a collection of rival monarchs and more a sprawling, dysfunctional family.

They were the world's true masters—a transcendent caste of "Celestial Dragons" who governed without the need for chakra or shinobi arts. To them, the only true threats were rogue ninjas, wandering samurai, or the occasional internal coup. Should their personal guards fail to quell such insolence, a distress call to one of the Great Villages would inevitably bring a cleanup crew to restore the status quo. Ninjas were the power the nobles feared yet craved—the very tools used to fortify their reign.

The existence of such supernatural force effectively smothered any hope of a populist uprising or a true change in dynasty. Dongye Zhen had once stumbled upon intriguing fragments of "unofficial" history in the village archives—records that mirrored the local folklore with haunting accuracy. Legend spoke of a primordial era of darkness, a time when the human population withered, nations crumbled, and the earth itself bled with ceaseless disasters. Then, a savior appeared.

He established the Ninshu creed and forged a new world order. The people hailed him as a living deity: the Sage of the Six Paths. Under the Sage's guidance, humanity gathered in fertile valleys to rebuild. Because the Sage stood above all, no mortal ruler dared claim the title of "Emperor" or "Son of Heaven." They settled for the title of Daimyo—the Great Names. As the centuries bled away and the land healed, the Sage's descendants were enfeoffed across the continent. History eventually curdled into myth.

The ruling aristocrats forgot their shared lineage, declared independence from a central sovereign, and crowned themselves Daimyos of their own fragmented territories. In the modern era, if a man ruled over even a single fortified city, he felt entitled to call himself a Daimyo. No one cared enough to tell him otherwise. The Warring States Period, with its centuries of bloody consolidation, eventually distilled these fragments into the modern geopolitical map.

This meant that, beneath the veneer of national identity, the Daimyos of the world likely shared a single common ancestor. In the quiet hours of the library, Zhen had treated these stories as mere curiosities. Most modern shinobi dismissed the Sage of the Six Paths as a fable, a fairy tale designed to give the profession a divine origin. But Zhen knew better. He knew the "God" was real.

And he knew that the "Dark Age" was likely the despotic reign of Kaguya Otsutsuki, a period where humanity was harvested like cattle for the God Tree. The "disasters" were the collateral damage of a war between a mother and her sons that shattered the very tectonic plates. Unfortunately, the Shinobi World lacked a tradition of objective historiography. Even if someone had tried to record the truth, a certain "black ghost" who had lurked in the shadows for a millennium would have likely scrubbed the record clean.

And so, the world remained in a state of collective amnesia. Unlike the rolling plains and gentle hills of the Land of Fire, the Land of Hot Water was a rugged landscape of abrupt ridges and geothermal vents. Despite its moderate elevation, the terrain was serrated with peaks and riddled with rich volcanic activity. It was a place of stark beauty, steaming fumaroles, and endless hot springs—a tourist's paradise. In truth, geothermal energy seemed to permeate the entire continent.

Even the Land of Wind, a wasteland of shifting dunes, boasted hot springs in its isolated oases. It was absurd. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. At times, Zhen wondered if the battle between the three ancient titans had permanently destabilized the Earth's crust, leading to this pervasive tectonic leakage. On the coast of the Land of Hot Water, waves thrashed against jagged cliffs.

The steep mountains acted as a natural barrier to the sea, leaving precious little flat ground for the development of deep-water ports. This geography had stifled the nation's potential for maritime trade, forcing it to lean heavily into the niche industry of hot-spring tourism. At the break of dawn, Zhen sat on a precipice, his eyes snapping open as he concluded his meditation. To the east, a sliver of light began to bleed across the horizon.

Watching the sunrise from these heights was a sight of ethereal beauty, but he had no time for aesthetics. Captain Unken and the others were already awake, having prepared a meager breakfast. Once they had finished, the four-man squad resumed their trek along the coastline, heading toward the Land of the Moon. They had enjoyed no rest after returning to headquarters the previous afternoon. They had been dispatched into the night under a new mandate.

According to reliable intelligence, the Kumo forces operating in the southeast hadn't bothered with temporary camps. They had simply seized Yugakure—the Village Hidden in Hot Water—at the start of the incursion. Not only did this provide them with a fortified base, but it allowed them to press-gang the local Hot Water shinobi into service. Such was the reality for the hidden villages of minor nations. They had no autonomy. Disobedience was a death sentence.

The Land of Earth had done the same to the Hidden Grass; one word of defiance, and the village would have been erased from the map. While the Hot Water ninjas were forced into the fray, they had little appetite for a suicidal confrontation with Konoha. Their survival strategy was a classic one: play both sides. Konoha had maintained clandestine channels with Yugakure throughout the conflict.

Intelligence suggested that following their failed assault on the Leaf headquarters the day before, the Kumo forces hadn't retreated. They were lingering, perhaps waiting for a second opening. To secure their rear and pave the way for a final victory, Konoha decided to cauterize the infection. The Northern First Command would secretly infiltrate the Land of Hot Water to sever the Cloud's retreat, preventing them from linking up with their main host to the north.

Meanwhile, Hiashi Hyuga's Second Command would begin a pincer movement from the southeast, driving the enemy toward the northwest. Zhen's squad, along with other sensory teams, had been deployed ahead of the main force. Their objective was the coastline: destroy every vessel and every Kumo maritime outpost they found. They were to ensure the Cloud couldn't tuck tail and sail back to the Land of Lightning. A shinobi could walk on water, yes, but the ocean was a vast, unforgiving mistress.

Unless one possessed the stamina to sprint across the open sea until they hit land, the attempt was a fool's errand. Ninjas were not perpetual motion machines; ninety-nine percent of them had limited reserves. To attempt an oceanic escape on foot was to sign one's own death warrant by drowning. This was the Leaf's counter-stroke. Three sides would converge, trapping the Cloud ninjas in the heart of the Land of Hot Water like meat in a dumpling.

Within a forest of stone pillars overlooking the coastal cliffs, Zhen focused his perception.

"Outpost ahead," he whispered.

"Two sentries. Same configuration as the last one." Unken nodded.

"Then we stick to the plan. Make it quick."

"Understood," the three juniors replied. Under the shroud of Zhen's sensory dampening, the four slipped through a secret mountain pass carved by the Cloud and descended upon the outpost below. This was one of the escape routes Kumo had prepared for a worst-case scenario. They reached the perimeter unnoticed. Unken and Zhen breached the interior to eliminate the guards, while Hayate and Yugao moved toward the docks to sabotage the boats.

The Cloud sentries were remarkably lax, perhaps believing that a retreat would never truly be necessary. They lacked the razor-edge discipline of front-line combatants. When the Leaf shinobi appeared, their first reaction was a look of pure, dumbfounded shock. Unken ended one before the man could blink. Zhen was more clinical. He struck the second guard with a heavy palm, knocking him unconscious, and immediately began siphoning natural energy into the man's system.

Even in his stupor, the Kumo ninja seemed to experience an agony beyond words. His brow furrowed into a tight knot, his frame convulsing violently. A moment later, the movement stopped. There were no external wounds, but the life had simply... evaporated.

"Still experimenting with your new technique?" Unken asked, glancing at the body.

"Yes, Captain," Zhen replied.

"He was going to die anyway. I might as well get some utility out of the waste." Unken considered this for a moment and said nothing. As long as Zhen wasn't practicing on the innocent, the Captain wouldn't interfere with his student's macabre curiosity. A series of muffled explosions echoed from the docks as Hayate and Yugao used explosive tags to scuttle the ships. Within minutes, the pair returned to the outpost.

"It's done," Hayate reported. Unken nodded.

"Move out. We have more ground to cover."