Chapter 56

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As Shijin approached the main Fire Army, his thoughts were racing. He needed to find Yama, but the man was truly impossible to locate. Shijin's eyes were unparalleled, but they were of no use to him right now, and it was at this moment that Kurama's words were finally impressed upon Shijin. Kurama had once said that Yama was a man without life, and it had become apparent. Shijin had no trouble sensing or seeing anyone else but Yama.

Shijin was about to go interrogate the Fire Daimyo on Yama's location when a small silver fox appeared in front of him.

The two looked at each other, Shijin's face was neutral, and Kurama's was obviously displeased.

Shijin inclined his head and greeted the nine tailed fox.

  "Ginou."

The fox snarled upon seeing the Rinne Sharingan that whirled in Shijin's eyes.

  "I have many questions about those eyes of yours, but we have bigger problems.

  Yama has disappeared.

  I've been watching over him, and he's destabilizing. Talking to himself, or to someone that isn't there.

  He's been locked away in his own little world, and I can't get him to respond to me.

  The Fire Daimyo had had him confined and locked away while under guard since he got here, but this morning something changed.

  I lost the ability to sense him through my remnant negative emotion sensing, and he wasn't in his usual cell."

  "What's happened to him?"

  "I said he disappeared, Uchiha. I know not beyond that!"

Shijin hesitated for a single moment, and Kurama spoke again.

  "Your heritage had been hidden before, during your so-called 'crippling', but I can feel it now; your chakra burns with the taint of Indra and your eyes only confirm it.

  However, Yama, as powerful as he is, is being corrupted by the totality of human negativity.

  If that wasn't as dire as it sounds, I would never deign to speak with you.

  Know this though, should you turn your eyes against me, I shall pluck them from your head and feed them to the vultures.

  We are allies of convenience for now, but after, I shall never again humor your presence around me."

Shijin nodded, agreeing that Yama was their top priority.

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Several hours earlier, on a far away battlefield, Orochimaru took one last look at the night sky.

It was a cloudy and moonless night, pitch black, excepting the fires of the army laid before him. The fires, many since burned to embers, flickered weakly in the night, and the shadows danced at their periphery. The night watches that patrolled the encampment were starting to yawn, and the fire-watchers were also starting to tire, letting their braziers and torches burn down slowly. It mattered not though, dawn was soon approaching, and the camp would slowly wake to life and start to stir.

Orochimaru knew that men slept most deeply right before the dawn, and he would take advantage of that, like any proper ninja would.

His summons had already returned and made their reports.

Orochimaru had sent out a small horde of snakes and serpents to poison the water and food supplies of the Lightning Army before dinner the previous night, and they had reported their mission successful. Sadly, the army was simply too large, and there was no way to poison each and every soldier. However, the large fraction that would fail to wake after succumbing to poison in their sleep may prove pivotal.

Furthermore, a few of his larger summons had been sent to assassinate high ranking officers and other vital personnel. The Army was essentially beheaded, and it would not be evident until the coming assault.

Orochimaru, rousing his chakra, prepared for the initial assault.

Ninja were terrified of summons, Orochimaru had seen it in Kusa, in Ame, and in Kiri. The ninja understood what was going on though. They knew what summons were, they knew how to deafest them, and they could fight back. The ability for ninja to fight back helped calm themselves, and even though their hands shivered in fright, and the kunai almost dropped from their trembling fingers, at least some of them would be able to resist.

These soldiers in front of him though, they knew nothing of the world of Ninja, and they would not even be able to comprehend why a snake the size of their hometown was wreaking havoc upon them. Their puny swords and spears would not even begin to pierce the hide of Manda and his kin. Their siege weapons may only leave a scratch, but those weapons were meant for use against immobile ramparts, not a monstrous leviathan with maw gaping and bearing down upon you.

The soldiers would be beyond terror. To them, as the giant snakes played around, reaping men like wheat before the scythe, it would be Apocalypse.

Orochimaru, having built up enough chakra, made the hand seals for the summoning jutsu, bit his finger, and slammed his hands on the ground, summoning Manda from Ryuchi Cave.

One especially keen eyed nightwatch, saw the shifting hulk in the darkness, but rubbing his eyes, and disbelieving them, turned away and headed back to camp. He must be seeing things that aren't there. He must be tired. Just the shadows, just the clouds. Whatever it was, it wasn't what he saw. That wouldn't be possible.

Manda, as aggressive and angry as ever, fiercely hissed at Orochimaru.

  "What is it now, summoner? You still owe me 100 bodies from our last meeting."

Orochimaru, calm as ever, replied.

  "I bring you and your kin Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand sacrifices."

Manda, saying nothing, turned his snout and heat sensing pits towards the Lightning encampment. After a quick moment, Manda flicked his forked tongue out, before incredulously turning back to Orochimaru.

  "For once in your life, you have surprised me in a good way."

Orochimaru smiled.

  "Even better for you, there are no ninja among them. This is no fight, this is a feast."

Manda, chuckled, and Orochimaru's hairs on the nape of his neck stood up, Manda's laugh grating on his ears. The sound was so foreign that Orochimaru would swear on his life that Manda had never before laughed.

Manda, his seemingly good humor disappearing as quickly as it had come, his usual temper on display, corrected Orochimaru.

  "This is no feast.

  For a hundred years, we have waited, and finally it comes once again.

  Tonight will be the Dance of the Dragons.

  Summon my kin, all of them, Orochimaru, and you shall be rewarded handsomely.

  The ever elusive sage mode, the prophecies we've stolen, our treasures, anything, everything!

  But you must summon them all!

  We have swum against the river for too long.

  It is time for us to call the Wind and Rain, to bring the Storm.

  Tonight we jump the Dragon Gate!"

Manda, his immense size doing nothing to reduce his blinding speed, was at the center of the Lightning Army within a blink of the eye, crushing the tents, barracks, and men that stood in his way.

He coiled himself imperiously, and from the heavens themselves, a great flash of lightning lit the sky, the thunder waking each and every soldier from sleep that had not already been alerted by Manda's crashing approach.

The flash of lightning that brilliantly lit the landscape seemed to fade slowly, and Manda was revealed to the men around him in his full stature and glory. Thus came panic.

Manda paused for a half second more, appreciating the cacophony of terror around him as soldier beheld him and despaired, and his tongue darted out, and the giant serpent closed his eyes for brief moment, savoring the taste of fear and adrenaline in the air. Then he struck, and his tail began to thrash, and his mouth snapped down again and again, eating men by the dozen.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Orochimaru watched the slaughter begin, and not giving himself any time for his thoughts to stray, simply began building up more chakra and preparing himself to summon more snakes to the field of battle.

Manda continued to rage as the smell of blood and viscera filled the air. Manda was enjoying himself. The prey that was so often denied to him was finally plentiful. He knew he was unlikely to again get an opportunity like this. Furthermore, those pesky humans had forgotten the might and majesty of the Snakes. The Dance of Dragons had not been performed for more than a century, and the sacrifices and offerings offered unto him and his people had dwindled over the decades as the common man forgot about the wrath of the Land Gods. Tonight they would be served a reminder, and once more would the bounties flow into Ryuchi Cave.

As Orochimaru summoned more and more snakes to the battlefield, the Lightning Army collapsed further and further, and soon enough, some of the solders were scrambling away in any direction as fast as they could. They would do anything to escape this nightmare. All around them was writhing darkness, with each and every corner holding a snake larger than imagination. Their swords and spears were turned away by the steely scales of the monsters that dwelt within the shadows. As the soldiers watched more and more of their brethren around them die, morale died too. What else could they do but run?

Manda took exception to that, and in conjunction with his fellow snakes, inhaled deeply before spewing a poison cloud that surrounded and corralled the entire army, the purple smog lying in a dense and opaque bank of fog on every side of the Lightning encampment.

The soldiers that tried to run through it didn't even reach it before falling to the ground like puppets with their strings cut, foaming at the mouth and convulsing every second or two as the poison paralyzed and wracked their bodies with paroxysms.

Orochimaru simply stared at the carnage from far away, and kept any emotion he might have deeply repressed. He was a shinobi, he would finish his mission, and he would endure. The one nagging thought that wouldn't go away was Danzo's order to perform the Edo Tensei; Orochimaru wanted to, but he knew that Manda would never forgive an interruption to his revelry, so Orochimaru waited, and hoped that there would be enough time to fulfill Danzo's order. The pain of disobedience was best not felt, but delay was tolerable.

Another man was there, simply observing the battle. Even though he walked through the battleground, he was unnoticed, and unharried, as if supernaturally, everything simply avoided his existence. He was isolated from the fervor around him. The soldiers neither saw nor heard him, and the snakes were oblivious. The debris and shrapnel that flew about him always missed, and the path he walked was always unobstructed.

His old and withered frame was bent from the weight of years and sin. His head was bowed, and his hands were trembling.

The voices whispered to him.

  "It's your fault, you know?

  Their pain, their fear, their hatred...

  You can feel it, can't you?

  You caused this, you love this. You wanted this."

The man fell to his knees, and his sweat soaked white hair dangled about him, obscuring his face, but also shielding him from the scene of carnage before him. He yelled to himself, but no one else could hear it.

  "That's not true! I was trying to help them.

  I'm trying to save them.

  This isn't me. It's not my fault. It's not."

The voices laughed.

  "We would believe you if you believed yourself.

  But you don't do you?

  You know it deep down.

  The only reason this is happening is because you're here.

  A blight upon the world.

  Destined to bring destruction wherever you go.

  Corpsewalker.

  Plaguebearer.

  Deathbringer."

The man shook his head even more as his hair whipped around. he denied the accusations with silent and tortured shakes of his head, as if he could shake the burden of guilt from his mind.

The voices stopped for a mere moment, before picking up once again, their harsh chorus ringing in his ears even as he tried to cover them.

  "Dawn is breaking soon. We have places to be, Saviour."

The old man continued kneeling on the ground. as the world shifted around him. The plains melted to dense forest as the earth and sky whizzed by in a blur.

His ears were covered by his hands, but the sounds would not ebb.

His eyes were screwed shut, but the visions would not dim.

His teeth were grit shut, but the voices would not cease.

His ears only heard evil. His eyes only saw evil. The voices only spoke evil.

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Sarutobi Hiruzen, Senju Tobirama, and Monkey King Enma stood together on a nearby ridge, surveying the forested expanse before them where the Lightning Army had set up camp the night before.

They were silently preparing themselves for the coming battle.

Enma and Tobirama looked at one another, sharing a rare moment of agreement and understanding.

Enma spoke to Hiruzen.

  "You don't have to do this, Sarutobi.

  Tobirama's plan works without your presence as well as with it."

Hiruzen looked up at his sensei, and Tobirama nodded at him, as if to to excuse Hiruzen from the coming slaughter, one last moment between sensei and student where Tobirama could look out for and spare Hiruzen the pain. Tobirama was a man of his time, the Era of Warring Clans, he had seen battlefields like this before, and he had been a part of them. If would not weigh heavy on his conscience to once again fight in this manner. But for Hiruzen, it was different, he had spent his whole life fighting shinobi, fighting equals, and the three wars he had seen looked like skirmishes compared to the battle looming.

Hiruzen, seeing the look in his sensei's eyes, could not accept the excuse. Hiruzen knew Tobirama was a man of duty, and he would do what was necessary, but he would never enjoy or relish it.

The Sandaime had ruled Konoha with a simple idea. Never ask your men to do what you yourself won't.

He knew that he would never forgive himself for backing out now.

Sarutobi Hiruzen, the second man to be called the God of Shinobi, steeled himself, stood a little taller, and replied with iron command of his voice.

  "Whether it be by my order, or by my hand, I am responsible for each and every death here today.

  Enma, you and your forces are bound by the summoning contract. Let not this rest on your conscience.

  Sensei, you invented the Edo Tensei control tag, and if you refused to help me, you know I would use it on you. That is what you taught me.

  As such, I will cast the first stone."

Enma and Tobirama, knowing that Hiruzen would not change his mind, turned away to face the Lightning Army.

The three men stood with the dawn sun at their backs, looking down on the army that was preparing to mobilize. The men were forming up into rank and file, and it was this moment that the soldiers were most densely packed together.

Hiruzen roused his chakra, and the air around him started to shake and the dust was kicked up at his feet.

He reached down with both hands and grabbed a fist full of shuriken into each, and after enhancing his body with chakra, hurled them into the sky.

He made several handseals before clapping his hands and yelling out.

  "Shuriken Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

The shuriken he threw doubled, the doubled again, and again, and again. What had been few became myriads.

A great shadow fell over the Lightning Army, silence fell over the troops at the sudden darkness, and they turned their heads to the ominous black cloud that had just blocked out the rising sun.

As the shuriken fell from the sky, increasing in speed, they started to whistle, and those that would survive the day would never forget that sound. The shriek that heralded death, the scream of ghosts and demons coming to reap your soul. They would hear the sound in their nightmares and startle awake screaming for the rest of their lives.

Those were the lucky ones. The unlucky ones were the ones inside the range of the jutsu.

The shuriken fell for almost a minute, stacking inches deep over a vast swath of the Army, stripping each and every tree in the area of every leaf. Only the trunks and sturdiest branches still stood, with shuriken sticking out of every inch of them, a harsh facsimile of a tree, looking like spiked and deformed skeleton hands grasping at the sky.

Hiruzen looked on grimly at what he had wrought. Without looking over to his longtime friend, he simply uttered.

  "Send them in, Enma."

Enma nodded without word, then began to whoop and howl.

His kin answered him, and the howls and whoops of monkeys sounded out from every direction, building to a crescendo. Enma disappeared with a blur of speed, repositioning himself as the front of his troupe so that he may lead his brethren in battle.

Then all of a sudden the howling stopped, and the next sound after that brief respite was the crash of steel and flesh as the monkey summons charged into and started hacking through the Land of Lightning's Army. In the aftermath of Hiruzen's jutsu, Enma and his monkeys took advantage of the confusion and laid waste to the remaining soldiers with tooth, nail, and weapon. Darting in and out, attacking from level and above, the monkeys were unparalleled in the forests surrounding Konoha.

Tobirama and Hiruzen stood together and surveyed the scene before them.

They said nothing for several minutes. Hiruzen was surprisingly the man to break the silence.

  "Sensei, the monkeys are only here for exposure and experience. Once they start to tire, before casualties start to build up, they will retreat, unsummoning themselves. You and I will mobilize at that moment.

  As planned, you will be handling the perimeter, while I will be in the center, distracting them and taking up their attention.

  Once morale has been broken, we will accept their surrender."

Tobirama replied with an even voice.

  "I can do both Saru. It isn't too late."

Hiruzen shook his head.

  "It already is.

  But mark my words. I will kill the bastards that made me do this."

Tobirama let the silence fall between them. He and his pupil had spent many years together, and one quality they shared was acceptance of silence, leaving each other to their own thoughts.

Hiruzen was already planning the death of the Fire Daimyo. The man had betrayed Konoha, and he would die for it, finances be damned. Furthermore, Fire Country would not have the resources nor manpower to retaliate against Konoha following this battle, if either even survived.

Hiruzen, and the world, would eventually uncover that the Lightning Daimyo was responsible for starting the war, and Hiruzen's revenge would be stolen when the people of Lightning ripped the Daimyo limb from limb and strung him high in the streets, but that is a story for another day.

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Wading through the wasteland of shuriken and bare trees was the same old man from the first battlefield.

Head still down, shoulders still bent, and heavy shuffling steps rattling the weapons by his feet.

The voices continued.

  "Look at the magnificence of it all.

  Shuriken so deep you can't see the rivers of blood flowing through the ground, staining the land crimson.

  Covering up the dead, hiding their bodies from the eye of heaven.

  They're still there, you know?

  Even if you can't see them.

  The people you killed. They're still there.

  They died in pain and confusion.

  They died in terror.

  All thanks to you."

The old man shook his head again and muttered to himself. His eyes were still shut, and he still head his hands over his ears.

It did nothing to stop the sound of his shuffling feet kicking up shuriken, nor the wet squelch of a body being stepping on.

In the distance, the sounds of battle echoed, blades clashing, flesh rending, gurgling last breaths, cries of death, and yells of triumph.

He still saw the spindly and spiked trees reaching up from the ground, as if they would reach up and tear you down in their desperate clutch.

  "I didn't do it. Its not me. its not.

  I'll stop it. I'll end it. It stops with me.

  That's my ninja way.

  I never give up!"

The old man started to stand up a bit straighter. His hands dropped from his ears and laid by his sides. His head tilted back and he faced the skies.

One of his eyes started to crack open, revealing the heaven-sent blue of an unclouded day.

But the voices hissed, and the shadows danced.

  "STOP STRUGGLING!"

The shadows which had been lapping around the man's feet, darker than the depths of the abyss, surged back up his body, winding around his legs as they seeped upwards. Looping around his head and shoulders, they pulled him back down to his knees, even as he tried to stand and keep his head up. His head was once more bowed, though it trembled with exertion.

The shadows wound down his arms, and slowly they constricted, once more bringing his hands over his ears. The shadows covered his entire face, and his eyes were once more blinded.

Yama would never willingly cover his eyes or ears. He would face anything and everything head on. That was his ninja way.

He was the number 1 unpredictable knuckleheaded ninja. He didn't avert his gaze from the destruction of Konoha at the hands of Pein. Even with Kakashi dead, he had not despaired, he had done what was necessary, and he had fought Pein. Madara, Kaguya, Obito, all of them, he had never given up, and he had never stopped fighting. This was no different. He would never stop fighting.

The voices continued to hiss.

  "Give in to Hatred, child.

  You can feel it. WE can feel it.

  They cry out with injustice as they die.

  Wishing for revenge, wishing for retribution.

  Grant it to them. They cannot rest otherwise.

  Would you really let them die for nothing?

  So cruel of you, so cruel.

  But you could make it right!

  All you have to do is let go.

  You caused this. Now make it RIGHT!"

Yama trembled, and shook his head, muttering his answer. It was quiet, it wavered around the edges, and it was so very tired.

But the core of truth was crystalline diamond, shining bright and pure, unbreakable, and unsullied.

Hatred hated it.