The battlefield should have been deafening-war cries, clashing steel, exploding jutsu-but at that moment, an unnatural silence reigned. A suffocating stillness that pressed on the ears and the mind alike. All because standing at the edge of the battlefield was Chiba.
In his hand, he held Momochi Zabuza's true body, restrained, immobilized, utterly defeated. For a heartbeat, no one could comprehend what they were seeing. Then, the realization began to spread-not like fire, not like panic-but like ice water seeping into the bones.
Kisame Hoshigaki's pupils constricted. Mei Terumi's breath caught in her throat. Even the shinobi who had survived countless massacres under the Bloody Mist felt their scalps tighten in instinctive dread. The two armies, locked moments ago in a desperate struggle, froze. Weapons hung midair. Hands trembled. No one dared to move.
Mei was the first to break the silence, her voice barely more than a whisper, betraying her disbelief. "C–Chiba…?" Her gaze snapped to the figure in his grasp. "…That's Zabuza. The real one." Her mind raced. That was impossible. They had seen him fight. They had clashed with him. They had confirmed his presence. So how…?
"How did you-" Mei couldn't finish the sentence.
Chiba smiled, not arrogantly, not triumphantly, but with the calm certainty of someone who had foreseen every possibility.
"Mei Terumi," he said softly, yet his voice carried across the battlefield, commanding attention. "And Kisame Hoshigaki." His words alone sent a chill down their spines.
"You both fought well. One of you sought to end the rebellion by seizing its head. The other chose overwhelming force-a decisive clash meant to erase everything in one stroke."
Kisame's jaw tightened, teeth grinding. "And what of it?"
Chiba's eyes narrowed slightly. "You both made the same mistake. You assumed Momochi Zabuza was reacting to your plans. He wasn't. He was using them."
A murmur spread through the ranks, disbelief and fear mixing into a tangible tension.
"One Shadow Clone to engage Mei," Chiba continued, voice cold, measured, merciless. "Another to stall Kisame and bind the main forces. Two battlefields, all attention diverted." He raised his gaze, looking beyond the present, as if surveying an invisible map only he could see. "And what does that leave behind?"
Mei's blood ran cold. The answer surfaced in her mind before she could stop it. "…The Mizukage."
Chiba inclined his head slightly. "Exactly."
Ao inhaled sharply, his Byakugan flaring instinctively. "So… you never intended to compete for merit on the battlefield. You were guarding the true objective from the very beginning?!"
"Yes," Chiba replied calmly, as if stating a fact rather than issuing a revelation. "Because if I were Zabuza, I wouldn't waste this opportunity."
The realization hit like a hammer. The battlefield, the rebellion, the clash of armies-all of it had been a smokescreen. Every diversion, every clash, every jutsu unleashed was orchestrated to mask the true objective.
Behind Chiba, Mangetsu Hōzuki exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable but his respect unmistakable. He had known Chiba's strength and intelligence, but to witness it unfold on such a scale was humbling. The Mizukage's seat, the true prize, had been secured through strategy alone, without a single unnecessary display of brute force.
The armies remained frozen, the rebel forces paralyzed by the sight of Zabuza bound and their plan undone. And at the center of it all, Chiba stood serene, the calm eye of a storm that had already decided its course. The battlefield, once chaotic and alive with death and fire, now belonged entirely to him.
Only now did they understand.
So that's why… that's why he never moved. That's why he never rushed. He wasn't waiting-he was hunting.
Mei clenched her fists, her voice barely audible. "…I see. I never stood a chance against you, did I?"
Chiba did not answer. The past no longer mattered. What mattered was what came next.
Kisame snorted, forcing himself to move, to breathe. "Hmph. So you caught Zabuza. Impressive. But the rebellion isn't over." His gaze swept across the frozen ranks of the rebel army-still alive, still armed. "To end this war, you'll need brute force. And that," he growled, lifting Samehada, "is my specialty."
He raised his arm, preparing to strike, but before he could act, Chiba moved.
He handed Zabuza's frozen body to Mangetsu, then stepped forward-down from the elevated ground, into the no-man's land between the two armies. Alone.
Thousands of rebel shinobi stiffened. A single man stood before them. No reinforcements. No formation. No seals. Just him.
The air changed. The temperature dropped-not suddenly, but steadily. Breath turned white. Armor creaked faintly. Some shinobi realized too late that their fingers had gone numb.
Chiba stopped. He looked down. Then slowly, deliberately, he knelt. His right palm pressed against the earth. For the first time, there was no smile.
"Ice Age."
The words were soft, almost gentle. And the world shattered.
BOOOOOOOOM.
A sound like the cracking of continents erupted outward-not an explosion, but an awakening. Unimaginable cold surged from Chiba's hand, racing across the ground faster than thought. The earth froze solid. Layer after layer of ice swallowed soil, stone, and blood alike. The air itself crystallized. Lungs burned. Hearts seized.
Shinobi screamed, but the sound never escaped their throats. In less than a heartbeat, thousands were frozen mid-motion. Eyes wide. Hands reaching. Faces locked in terror. An army erased-not defeated, but sealed. The battlefield became a grave of ice. No wind. No sound. Only the distant cracking of frozen air.
Kisame stood paralyzed, Samehada twitching weakly in his hand. For the first time in his life, fear crawled up his spine. Mei covered her mouth, eyes trembling. This wasn't ninjutsu. This wasn't power. This was… authority.
Chiba rose slowly, ice crackling beneath his feet. He turned back toward them, toward the village, toward the future. And with a calm voice that carried absolute finality, he said:
"The rebellion ends here."