Kirigakure
The night of defection loomed ominously. While the village appeared calm on the surface, the oppressive atmosphere betrayed the truth—a quiet before the storm, so stifling it felt as if it could choke the very air.
By this point, the once-secret plan for defection had become an open secret. The Blood Mist faction knew the opposition planned to defect. Likewise, the opposition knew the Blood Mist faction was aware of their intentions.
Thus, the hours dragged on under this tense stalemate, until nightfall.
"We can't just sit back and let those traitors walk away unscathed—even without the Mizukage's orders!"
"It's all for the village!"
The upper ranks of the Blood Mist faction, excluding Yagura Karatachi and Ōhashi Daisaku, had convened to discuss the imminent defection. A particularly impulsive senior member suddenly stood up, voicing his self-righteous stance. Although his words were cloaked in noble intentions, everyone knew his true motives.
Not that it mattered. When it came to defection, their interests were aligned.
The proposal quickly gained traction among the others, who passionately proclaimed that they too would act "for the village" and "for the Mizukage," even if it meant stepping beyond their authority. Any consequences could be dealt with afterward.
As the room emptied with people rushing to gather their subordinates, the impulsive speaker rose unhurriedly, a sly smile curling on his lips.
"Well done, my Chōjūrō," he murmured to his companion, who suddenly dispelled their transformation with a soft poof.
It was none other than Mei Terumi herself. She had infiltrated the Blood Mist faction's meeting personally, disguised as a subordinate.
The so-called senior member of the Blood Mist faction? He was a long-embedded spy for the faction led by Genji, acting under Mei's orders tonight to stir up chaos and fan the flames of infighting.
"You've done well," Mei acknowledged, though her furrowed brow betrayed her unease.
Yagura's strange behavior of late made her reconsider the outlandish claim made by Deidara—could Yagura truly be under genjutsu?
Otherwise, why hadn't he taken any decisive action by now?
No, this needed to be investigated further. She would return to find Ao and have him use his Byakugan to check Yagura's condition.
However, when Mei reached her faction's hidden base, she was greeted by a panicked female shinobi.
"Mei-sama! It's terrible!"
Mei's heart sank at the shinobi's distressed expression.
"What happened? Speak!"
"It's Ao—he was ambushed by a mysterious attacker! If not for Chōjūrō's intervention, he wouldn't have survived."
"And?" Mei demanded, her voice sharp with urgency.
"Ao-sama sustained severe injuries... and his Byakugan has been stolen!"
Rage surged through Mei, her body trembling as she clenched her fists. It wasn't just the attack on her trusted ally—it was the sheer audacity of this "mysterious attacker" to trample on the entire Hidden Mist Village.
How many had already died because of this unseen enemy? How many lives had been upended? The village's decline was entirely their doing.
The theft of Ao's Byakugan left no room for doubt—Deidara's suspicions were correct.
That bastard had to die.
On the western side of the Hidden Mist Village, a massive group of defectors had gathered. More continued to arrive, their numbers swelling to an estimated five thousand, with over two thousand active-duty shinobi among them.
In a village decimated by years of the Blood Mist's brutality, this was an astonishing figure—thirty percent of the active-duty shinobi. It was a scale no minor village, aside from the likes of Takigakure or Amegakure in their prime, could have hoped to match.
At around 10 PM, the defectors were organized under Deidara's guidance and began their retreat. But the Blood Mist faction had been lying in wait, biding their time to strike at the perfect moment.
Their plan was cunning. Attacking too early would provoke a unified resistance, risking heavy casualties. Instead, they aimed to strike mid-escape, when the defectors' formation would be chaotic. Those already ahead wouldn't return to help, and those at the rear would be too preoccupied pushing forward.
The Blood Mist faction's strategy was shrewd—turning a massive group into a vulnerable herd.
However, in the face of overwhelming power, no strategy mattered.
"Ha!"
Explosions tore through the night as countless clay creatures turned Blood Mist shinobi into ashes.
Swish!
Sasori's puppet Hiruko unleashed a barrage of senbon, laced with deadly poison. A single breath of the toxic fumes he emitted spelled death, carving out a vast death zone around one of the exits.
Meanwhile, Itachi moved with an almost serene grace, his battles surreal. A mere glance or subtle hand movement sent opponents spiraling into genjutsu, collapsing to the ground as though their strings had been cut.
"What do we do?"
"They're too strong!" Blood Mist shinobi hesitated, their fear evident after sustaining heavy losses. They turned to their commander for guidance.
"Enough!"
"Stop holding back and deploy the elite forces!" a senior member snapped.
Their earlier plan had been clever, but with more defectors slipping away, they grew desperate. They needed to act now.
Soon, squads of elite Chūnin—the backbone of the battle—were deployed. Like elite soldiers in ancient armies, they served as the main combat force, while Jōnin functioned more like commanders.
"Water Release: Water Trumpet!"
Dozens of shinobi cried out in unison, unleashing a torrent of water. Though it was a basic C-rank technique, the sheer number of users transformed it into a colossal wave, surging toward Itachi on the left flank.
From a safe distance, Deidara smirked. For once, he wasn't the primary target.
"Guess they think the genjutsu guy can't handle large-scale attacks," he mused, relishing the moment.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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