"Is Rasa back?" she asked, her voice cold and heavy.
The intelligence officer hesitated, his unease clear as he answered, "Yes, Lady Chiyo, but he's alone. Pakura... she isn't with him. As for the situation at the Silver Scale River garrison..."
The officer trailed off, his nervousness palpable.
Ebizō interjected, his tone steadier. "What about the rest? What of Pakura, and how are the remaining forces faring?"
The ninja glanced at Chiyo, hesitant to continue. "I only saw Lord Rasa returning with a small, battered group. He didn't say much—only instructed me to report to you immediately. But from what I observed..." He faltered again.
"Speak plainly," Ebizō urged.
The ninja drew a deep breath. "Lord Rasa appeared gravely injured, and his troops... nearly all of them were wounded."
Chiyo and Ebizō exchanged grim looks, their worst fears taking shape. The devastation from the Battle of the Silver Scale River was clearly more severe than they had imagined.
"Send Rasa in," Chiyo commanded icily.
"Y-Yes, Lady Chiyo," the ninja stammered before scurrying off.
Moments later, a gaunt figure trudged into the tent. His once-proud bearing was gone, replaced by exhaustion and defeat.
"Rasa?!" Chiyo exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took in his disheveled appearance.
Ebizō mirrored her shock. The proud and confident Magnet Style user before them now looked broken.
"Yes, Lady Chiyo," Rasa replied quietly, his head bowed.
"Where is Pakura?" Chiyo demanded, her voice rising with urgency.
At the mention of Pakura, Rasa's head dipped further, his voice trembling. "Pakura... she's dead."
The words hit like a physical blow. Chiyo and Ebizō shot to their feet, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief.
"Dead?! What happened? Who killed her?" Chiyo's voice cracked with fury as her eyes burned with unshed tears.
Rasa's lips moved, his voice barely audible. "It was... Aizen. We fell into one of his large-scale Water Style techniques. Pakura sacrificed herself using her ultimate Scorch Style technique... to ensure my escape."
Chiyo's knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists. "Aizen?!"
She pressed further. "Was he working with Minato? Did they coordinate against you?"
Rasa shook his head weakly. "No... it was just Aizen."
"Just Aizen?!" Chiyo's voice wavered in disbelief. "Are you telling me that Pakura couldn't handle him alone? That even you, alongside her, were no match?"
"I didn't think it possible either," Rasa admitted bitterly. "But his strength... it's monstrous. His Water Style techniques... his sheer control over the battlefield... it was overwhelming."
He recounted the battle in painstaking detail. As he spoke, Chiyo and Ebizō's disbelief gave way to grim realization.
By the time Rasa finished, Chiyo's expression was a mix of anger and dread. "This Aizen... his talent rivals, if not surpasses, that of Namikaze Minato."
Ebizō's brows furrowed as he processed Rasa's account. "To refine Water Style ninjutsu to such an advanced level… Aizen's mastery is extraordinary. It seems that when we faced him, his chakra reserves must have already been severely depleted. Otherwise, his full strength would have been even more overwhelming."
Chiyo gave a curt nod, her expression grim but reflective. "This man truly is a formidable opponent. The chaos among our troops... It was his large-scale illusion technique that caused it, wasn't it?"
Rasa hesitated but then confirmed. "Yes, Lord Chiyo. That strange, large-scale genjutsu… It was entirely his doing. It confused and disoriented our forces, leaving them vulnerable."
Chiyo and Ebizō exchanged a silent, understanding glance, the gravity of the situation sinking in further.
Rasa continued, his voice heavy with regret and exhaustion. "After sowing chaos with his illusion, Aizen and Namikaze Minato split their focus. Aizen stayed behind to confront me and Pakura while Minato systematically hunted down and eliminated our elite ninjas, particularly those of Jōnin rank and above. By the time I managed to escape and regroup..." His voice cracked, and his fists clenched tightly. "Our vanguard, which started with over six thousand shinobi, was reduced to fewer than two thousand. Worse still, all our elite Jōnin-level ninjas were completely wiped out."
Rasa's shoulders trembled as silent tears began to fall, the weight of the loss crushing him. "I failed them..."
Chiyo's face turned pale, her breathing quick and shallow as the enormity of the devastation washed over her. The room seemed to spin, and her vision darkened. Stumbling backward, she collapsed into a chair.
"Sister!" Ebizō rushed to her side, gripping her shoulders to steady her.
"Chiyo-sama!" Rasa exclaimed, his panic evident as he too moved to support her.
Chiyo weakly waved them off, her trembling hand resting on the arm of the chair. She closed her eyes, her breaths shallow but gradually stabilizing. After several tense moments, she opened her eyes and looked at Ebizō and Rasa, her expression weary but resolute.
"I… I'm fine," Chiyo murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't need to worry about me." She paused, her gaze flickering toward Rasa. "You've been through a lot, Rasa. Go and rest. That's an order."
Rasa hesitated, his lips parting as if to protest. "Lady Chiyo, I—"
Chiyo's expression softened as she looked at Rasa, her voice calm but firm. "Do not carry this burden alone. I am the supreme commander of this army. The responsibility for the defeat at the Silver Scale River rests with me, not you."
Her tone carried the weight of years and experience. She was old, and the concept of blame no longer mattered to her as it once did. But Rasa? He was young, with his entire future ahead of him. He was the chosen successor to the Kazekage—a leader Sand Shinobi Village would need in the years to come.
If this loss were to stain his record, it might shatter his ability to lead in the future.
"Lady Chiyo..." Rasa's voice wavered, his clenched fists trembling as he bowed his head. He understood her intentions, the way she shielded him from blame, even at her own expense.
"Go now. I am tired," Chiyo said, her hand waving dismissively.
"Yes, Lady Chiyo," Rasa replied, his voice filled with respect and emotion. He slowly turned and left the tent, his figure stooped under the weight of his thoughts.
As the tent flap closed behind him, Chiyo sighed deeply, her aged shoulders sagging. Her thoughts wandered as she stared at the empty space where Rasa had stood moments ago.
"Rasa is talented, but against geniuses like those of Konoha…" she whispered to herself, her voice heavy with resignation. "Aizen… Namikaze Minato… they are on a different level."
Konoha truly was a cradle of brilliance. It seemed that every generation produced shinobi who altered the course of history itself.
And then, her mind wandered further back, to a boy with fiery red hair—a prodigy whose brilliance rivaled even the greatest of Konoha.
"Sasori…" she murmured, her voice trembling as a flood of memories washed over her. "But where are you now?"
Her voice cracked with emotion as the image of her grandson, Sasori, came to the forefront of her thoughts. His absence since the disappearance of the Third Kazekage had been an open wound, one that never truly healed.
"I only wanted to protect you... to keep you from straying too far into darkness. But now..." Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as she clutched her chest. "Now, I don't even know where you are… or if you're safe."
Her grief-filled murmur hung in the air as Chiyo leaned back in her chair, her weary frame trembling with the weight of her emotions.
Unbeknownst to her, the events of the battle in the western Fire Country were already rippling across the ninja world.