Chapter 482: Darui and Kitsuchi Sent as Envoys to Konoha
As an elite of Kumogakure, Darui lived by a strict code of strength and honor. He believed in crushing his enemies fair and square on the open battlefield, mirroring the overwhelming, straightforward might of Raikage-sama. To him, dying with a weapon in hand was infinitely preferable to employing underhanded, filthy tactics to threaten innocent civilians.
However, reality offered no room for his ideals. His leader, the Fourth Raikage, was currently rotting in a Konoha holding cell.
This was the suffocating truth Darui had to face.
Across the dimly lit command tent, Ōnoki finished his grim proposal. The Third Tsuchikage shifted his gaze, his aged eyes locking onto the Kumogakure commander.
"Does your village agree to this plan?" Ōnoki rasped.
"This is the behavior of a coward." Darui ground his teeth together. The veins at his temples throbbed against his dark skin. "If Raikage-sama knew we resorted to such despicable methods to save him, he would rather bite his own tongue and bleed out!"
"And then what? You would just let him die?" Ōnoki slammed his hand against the table. "Darui! Wake up!"
The old man's breathing grew ragged, his gnarled finger trembling as he pointed toward the tent flap. "Honor? Backbone? In the face of utter extinction, those things are less than dirt! Look outside! Look at those shinobi who have been scared out of their wits!"
Ōnoki leaned forward, his voice dropping into a desperate hiss. "If we don't seize this absolute last chance, tomorrow... no, maybe even tonight, Kumogakure and Iwagakure will be completely wiped from the map of the Ninja World! Do you want to be the man who let Kumogakure burn to ash?"
Faced with such a crushing accusation, Darui's broad shoulders swayed. The silence in the tent stretched, thick and suffocating.
Finally, the tension left his arms. His tightly clenched fists uncurled, dropping limply to his sides.
"I understand," Darui muttered, his voice hollow. "For Raikage-sama... for the village... I will be the one to play the villain."
Hearing the concession, both Ōnoki and Mifune exhaled long, heavy breaths. As long as Kumogakure cooperated, this desperate gamble had a sliver of a chance.
"Since the decision is made, we act immediately," Mifune said, quickly regaining his stoic composure. He stepped toward the tactical map. "We have already lost in a direct confrontation. Now, the only path forward is negotiation. We must show weakness. Absolute, pathetic weakness."
Mifune looked between the two shinobi commanders, his tone grim. "We must adopt the posture of a completely broken army, willing to surrender unconditionally. It is the only way to lower Uchiha Akira's guard and secure a face-to-face meeting."
"As long as we can sit at the negotiating table, as long as we can force Uchiha Akira to hesitate, we still have a chance to turn the tables... no, it is our only hope of survival."
"Who will go?" Kitsuchi's deep, rumbling voice broke the silence.
Everyone knew the stakes. Facing a man as decisive and ruthless as Uchiha Akira, the envoy sent to negotiate could easily be slaughtered the moment they stepped into the enemy camp.
"I'll go." Darui stepped forward without a second of hesitation, a cold determination hardening his gaze. "I am Raikage-sama's personal guard and the acting commander of Kumogakure for this war. Rescuing him is my absolute responsibility."
"I will go as well." Kitsuchi glanced at his father, Ōnoki, before stepping up beside the Kumogakure shinobi. "On Iwagakure's side, there must be someone of sufficient weight to make the surrender look authentic."
Ōnoki stared at his honest, fiercely reliable son. A flash of deep reluctance flickered in the old Tsuchikage's eyes, but he eventually forced a silent nod. He was the Tsuchikage; he could not risk his own life on a suicide mission. If the negotiations broke down, he needed to survive to lead the last scattered sparks of Iwagakure into exile.
Mifune nodded in approval. "Then let Darui-dono and Kitsuchi-dono lead a small escort of Jonin as the advance diplomatic mission."
"Remember." Mifune's gaze turned incredibly solemn, carrying the weight of thousands of lives. "Keep your heads bowed. No matter what kind of humiliation they heap upon you, you must swallow it. Endure it all... until the exact moment we reveal our trump card."
"Your only goal right now is to buy us time!"
...
Half an hour later.
A meager procession of just over a dozen people trudged out from the Allied Forces camp, a stark white flag flapping weakly at their front. They sped through the dense forests toward Konoha's heavily fortified position.
The sky above was a suffocating, gloomy gray, threatening rain that never seemed to fall.
Before long, Darui and his group crossed the invisible threshold of Konoha's outer perimeter.
"Who goes there?!" a sharp, commanding shout echoed through the canopy.
Swoosh! Swoosh!
The piercing sound of displaced air erupted from the shadows. Darui and Kitsuchi flinched, their battle-honed instincts flaring as they instantly dropped into defensive stances.
Two figures materialized on the thick branches above them, looking down with cold, calculating eyes. The leading interceptors were none other than Hyuga Tokuma and Uchiha Shunichi.
"Kumogakure and Iwagakure," Uchiha Shunichi drawled, tilting his head slightly as he assessed the pathetic group below. A cruel smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Why come all this way just to die with so few people?"
The metallic scrape of a blade sliding from its scabbard rang out. The short sword strapped to Shunichi's back was unsheathed by half an inch, and a suffocating, icy killing intent crashed down, locking directly onto Darui's throat.
"Take one more step forward, and I will show no mercy."
Faced with the Uchiha youth's blatant contempt and naked threats, the elite Jonin from Kumo and Iwa felt their blood boil.
"You bastard!"
"A mere brat dares to act so arrogant?!"
An Iwagakure Jonin, blinded by rage, subconsciously brought his hands together, his fingers blurring into the first seal of an earth jutsu.
"Stop!" Kitsuchi roared. His massive frame lunged forward, moving with terrifying speed as he violently slapped his subordinate's hands down, breaking the seal.
"Do you want to get every single one of us killed?!" Kitsuchi glared at the Jonin, his bull-like eyes wide with fury, his broad chest heaving violently.
They were already deep within Konoha's alert range. The moment a single offensive jutsu was cast, there would be no negotiations. This tiny envoy group would be instantly swarmed and butchered by the dozens of Konoha Anbu currently lurking in the surrounding foliage.
More... Kitsuchi slowly shifted his heavy gaze back to Uchiha Shunichi, the hair on his arms standing on end. Just this young Uchiha alone radiated an extremely dangerous, blood-soaked aura.
"Phew..." Darui exhaled a long, trembling breath, forcibly swallowing the burning humiliation and rage clawing at his throat.
He stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. He reached over his shoulder, carefully sheathing his broad cleaver sword, and then raised both hands high into the air, making sure the white flag was clearly visible.
"Don't misunderstand," Darui said, forcing his voice to remain steady, even adopting a humble tone. "We are not here to fight."
"We represent the Shinobi Alliance. We have come to Konoha's camp... to seek an audience with Hokage-sama. We are requesting peace talks."
"Peace talks?" Uchiha Shunichi barked a laugh, acting as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke in the world.
He leaped down from the high branch, landing lightly on the forest floor just inches from Darui's face.
"A pathetic pack of stray dogs, and you think you are worthy of speaking the word 'peace'?" Shunichi extended a single finger, contemptuously flicking the white fabric of the flag Darui held up. "What is this useless rag supposed to represent?"
"You—!"
The Kumogakure shinobi standing behind Darui trembled with absolute fury. Their hands twitched toward their weapon pouches, desperate to rush forward and tear this arrogant Uchiha apart.
But Darui threw his arm back, forming an iron barricade. He did not let them move an inch.
He had to endure.
For Raikage-sama.
"Please, just inform your superiors," Darui said, lowering his head. He stared at the dirt, refusing to look at Shunichi's infuriating, mocking face. His voice was a low, strained gravel. "We come with absolute sincerity. If Hokage-sama refuses to see us, we will wait right here."
"Sincerity?" Shunichi sneered, his dark eyes sweeping over the bruised egos of Darui and Kitsuchi.
Without another word, Shunichi turned his back on them, raising a hand to signal the Hyuga still perched in the trees.
"Tokuma-senpai, keep an eye on this trash."
Shunichi glanced over his shoulder. The pitch-black irises of his eyes bled into a brilliant, glowing crimson, the tomoe of the Sharingan spinning menacingly. His tone dropped to a deadly whisper.
"If a single one of them dares to twitch... kill them immediately."
With that final threat hanging in the damp air, Shunichi's figure blurred, vanishing from the spot in a high-speed Body Flicker Technique.
...
Meanwhile, deep within the Konoha camp, inside the main commander's tent.
Uchiha Akira sat behind a heavy wooden desk, his posture relaxed but commanding. Standing before him, Nara Shikaku was carefully detailing the post-war cleanup operations, his voice steady and professional.
Suddenly, the faint rustle of fabric broke the rhythm of the report.
An Anbu operative materialized silently in the center of the tent, dropping to one knee with his head bowed low.
"Hokage-sama," the Anbu reported, his voice muffled behind his porcelain mask. "Urgent news from the front line perimeter."
"Darui of Kumogakure and Kitsuchi of Iwagakure are leading a small diplomatic mission just outside the camp. They are requesting an audience."
"They claim... they are here on behalf of the Allied Forces to initiate peace talks."
"Peace talks?" Nara Shikaku paused, his tactical mind immediately dissecting the information. A strange, knowing smile slowly crept across the strategist's face. "These guys reacted quite quickly to their impending doom."
Shikaku turned his gaze toward the man sitting at the desk, his tone shifting to one of deep respect.
"Hokage-sama, should we grant them an audience?" Shikaku asked. "Or... should we just send them away?"
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