Konoha’s Five-Element Ninja

Chapter 45: Chapter 45: Commanding the Three-Tails



Chapter 45: Commanding the Three-Tails

Without the necessary power to back it up, no one would dare attempt such a dangerous mission. The Mist's decision to intercept the Fire Country's daimyo within their own borders meant they had a plan—and that plan rested squarely on their trump card: the Three-Tails. Even one of the legendary Sannin, Jiraiya, could hardly stand against a tailed beast on his own.

The Mist's commander on this mission was Yagura Karatachi, a ninja of peculiar appearance: diminutive in stature, with a childlike face. Yagura was one of the few elite warriors the Mist could showcase, and he served as the primary force tasked with controlling the Three-Tails.

As the giant beast emerged, roaring to assert its dominance, Yagura frowned slightly, his voice cold and commanding: "Hurry up. Take control of the Three-Tails and finish this quickly!"

"Yes, sir!" responded the Mist's secret operatives in unison. Forming a series of seals, they concentrated their chakra, and the Three-Tails, initially just lazily paddling about, suddenly paused. With some effort, it began turning toward Jiraiya's location.

Jiraiya watched intently, his expression grave. Although he couldn't fathom how the Mist managed to manipulate the Three-Tails without Sharingan, he understood well enough that the situation had escalated. The only immediate priority was ensuring the daimyo's safety. While the shinobi present were prepared to sacrifice themselves, the daimyo could not be allowed to fall—losing him would spell political disaster for the Leaf Village in the Land of Fire.

"Minato!" Jiraiya's call was sharp and urgent. The young Minato Namikaze quickly approached, his response crisp: "Yes, sensei?"

Looking at his student's earnest but slightly inexperienced face, Jiraiya felt a sense of reassurance. "Get the daimyo out of here. The situation is beyond my control."

"But—"

"Do as I say!" Jiraiya's command left no room for argument. He understood what his student wanted to say: that abandoning comrades was unacceptable. But time was not on their side. As a shinobi of the Leaf, one must be ready to lay down their life for the village and the mission, no matter the cost. Hesitation only led to more casualties.

Minato bit his lip, a hunger for strength burning in his chest, but he didn't argue further. In a flash, he vanished.

Yagura noticed the movement and barked, "Cut them off! Don't let the daimyo escape!"

It didn't matter who was in his way. This mission was critical to the Mist's future, and he would see it through no matter the cost. With a shift in his seals, the Three-Tails opened its mouth and unleashed a massive torrent of water aimed at Jiraiya.

Unfazed, Jiraiya pressed his hand to the ground, summoning one of his signature allies: a massive toad wielding a pipe and a sword at its waist. Without needing Jiraiya's orders, the toad drew its sword and cleaved through the oncoming wave. With a mighty leap, it launched itself at the Three-Tails. The resulting clash between these colossal entities further devastated the already ruined landscape.

Meanwhile, Hayama didn't rush in to assist Jiraiya. He knew his limitations—his regular ninjutsu would barely scratch the Three-Tails' defenses. It would be like trying to chisel stone with a toothpick. No, Hayama decided his efforts were better spent guarding the daimyo.

Using his Lightning Style technique, Hayama raced across the battlefield, dispatching two obstructing Mist shinobi with swift strikes before reaching the half-submerged barrier protecting the daimyo. There, he was greeted by an uncharacteristically furious Minato.

Hayama frowned. He had been working alongside Minato for a while now and had never seen him so angry. It didn't take long to understand the reason: the four Leaf Anbu responsible for maintaining the barrier were refusing to open it and let Minato extract the daimyo. Their insubordination was infuriating, especially when time was running out and the Mist forces were closing in.

Clutching his short blade tightly, Hayama's eyes gleamed with cold resolve. If not for the barrier, he would have shown those Anbu exactly what happens to traitors on the battlefield. The concept of "missing in action" had a double meaning in the Leaf. Sometimes it truly meant a shinobi had disappeared without a trace. Other times, it meant they had been summarily executed by their comrades for desertion, insubordination, or cowardice. Such individuals would simply be marked as "missing" in official records, their disgrace never openly acknowledged.

Without such strict policies, Hayama would never have been willing to fight for the "Will of Fire" or the village's higher-ups. If that rule didn't exist, he would have gladly stayed far from the frontlines.

Minato's anger gradually subsided, though frustration lingered. He knew he couldn't override the Anbu's decision. Despite being a rising star in the Leaf and Jiraiya's protégé, he had no official authority over these operatives. The daimyo, sitting calmly within the barrier, seemed unfazed. He even pulled out an ornate fan to cool himself, his composure earning a sliver of admiration from Hayama. It was no wonder someone so young could manage the vast resources and affairs of the Land of Fire. Hayama, by contrast, was still swinging a blade on the battlefield—proof enough of who had the makings of a true leader.

Unbeknownst to Hayama, the daimyo was silently cursing the incompetence of the Leaf's leadership. He resolved that, if he survived this ordeal, he would give the Hokage a piece of his mind. To the daimyo, the Anbu were little more than a pack of privileged incompetents handpicked by the Third Hokage to maintain clan alliances. Their refusal to follow logical orders and their nonsensical claim that the barrier was impenetrable—even against the Three-Tails—was laughable at best. If dealing with a tailed beast were so simple, why bother sealing them in jinchūriki? Why not just leash them at the village gate to scare off enemies?

Hayama asked quietly, "You're Root, aren't you?"

The Anbu froze for a moment, unwilling or unable to answer. But their silence confirmed his suspicion.

Of course they were Root operatives. That explained their refusal to follow a logical plan. Their mission wasn't to protect the daimyo—it was to serve their own political agenda.

The political landscape of the Leaf was fraught with tension. Officially, the village leadership consisted of the Hokage and his advisors, but true power rested with two figures: Hiruzen Sarutobi and Danzo Shimura. The two, both students of the Second Hokage, were a study in contrasts. Hiruzen was known for his measured approach, his diplomacy, and his focus on maintaining the village's traditions and public image. Danzo, on the other hand, was ruthless, pragmatic, and entirely results-oriented. He had sacrificed his own clan and family during the Second Shinobi War, showing that nothing was off-limits if it served the village's "greater good."

Hayama believed the Second Hokage had made a grave mistake in choosing Hiruzen as his successor. In his view, the village needed a leader more like Danzo—someone willing to make hard decisions, someone unafraid to be hated. A leader who would act decisively without worrying about appearances or outdated notions of honor.

Danzo's ambitions were clearly on display now. Root's interference in this mission was an open challenge to the Hokage's authority. The Leaf's greatest threat, it seemed, wasn't the Mist or the Three-Tails. It was the cracks forming within its own leadership.

"Minato, let's not waste any more time arguing with them," Hayama said, tightening his grip on his blade. "We've got enemies closing in."

The battlefield was shrinking. Beyond the barrier, only Jiraiya, Minato, and Hayama remained as active defenders. The Anbu within the barrier were of no help, and the other Leaf shinobi—like Akimichi Todo and Inuzuka E—were out of commission. Meanwhile, the Mist had two full teams in play. Four were engaging Jiraiya, and the other four were converging on Hayama and Minato.

Among them were two familiar faces: Suigetsu Ku and Kaguya Shoichi. Their relentless teamwork had already put Hayama in a tight spot once before. The other two Mist shinobi carried bizarre, oversized blades that looked even more dangerous than the standard ninja tools.

It was now two against four, and the terrain—dominated by the lake created by the Three-Tails—favored the Mist. The odds were stacked against them. Hayama popped two military ration pills into his mouth, tossing one to Minato as well. He chewed quickly, readying himself for the fight ahead.

Hayama knew he couldn't rely on Jiraiya to bail them out. A tailed beast wasn't something even a Sannin could handle easily. In the end, Hayama could only count on himself—and Minato—to survive this battle.

Gesturing silently to Minato, Hayama shared his observations on the Mist's tactics and their likely strengths. Once Minato nodded in understanding, Hayama locked his sights on one of the Mist nin wielding a strange blade. With a burst of chakra, he dashed forward, his movements leaving only ripples on the water's surface as he closed in on the enemy.

Today's battle wasn't just about defeating the enemy; it was about survival. Hayama's tactics had always been shaped by a singular principle: protect yourself first. Only by staying alive could he ensure that the daimyo would make it out alive as well. It wasn't about heroics—it was about pragmatism.


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