"Sasuke...I may have healed you a little, but this is too much...Actually...Forget it, I'm done with you."
Karin Uzumaki
He had always been an acute sensor. Right down the line, in every clan, mercenary or shinobi, every member of the clan was an adept sensor. There wasn't a need to classify it in the first place. However, there were always standouts. There were always those that were exceptional and displayed an immense talent or sensitivity to their surroundings and chakra. thus the classification had been made.
Someone extraordinary in sensing was deemed a sensor-some like Tobirama could sense chakra for the length of countries. He, himself, could sense chakra far off in another country. Hashirama's sensory perception was a step beyond-he was able to sense emotions and their undercurrents. Mikito could also sense emotions and their undercurrents, as well as being a sharp sensor.
Madara was right up there the vey top sensory perception. He had been classified as a sensor by his father before his ninth birthday. Tobirama, however, was an extremely acute sensor-to the point it made him wary. It was said Tobirama was a walking lie detector. In addition to his pragmatic and highhanded ways, as well as his streak of pride-it meant dealing with him was a trying affair.
The white haired Senju was always a thorn in his side. Izuna handled him easily enough, but it was Toibrama's work behind the scenes-the brains behind Hashirama's power and influence, that was the true threat. He had tried to kill Tobirama multiple times, hundreds of millions, perhaps trillions. Never once, did he kill him.
He took a chunk of flesh, stabbed him, broke his bones, but never did he send him to his grave.
Drop.
Madara's fingers jerked.
His hand snapped into a fist.
And the lone rain drop that landed in his palm evaporated.
It was a reflex.
He let his mind wander to Hashirama.
He wasn't sure how he felt about the man anymore-he was a threat, and a rival, but...What had connected them was gone. He seen the flaws of Hashirama's system, and its inevitable claim on the shinobi world, and perhaps outside world. He didn't know what he wanted to do with the man, if he had to be honest. Instinct and indoctrination told him to slay him-his personal experiences made him shun that idea, but he also couldn't commit to anything fully enough.
He sighed, shaking his head. There was a light rain, and the moisture was starting to build in his long mane of hair. He considered cutting it, but knew it'd be far too much trouble at this point-it was just easier to maintain it. Still, when it got wet like this, it'd take an entire day for his shoulders to dry. Some of his haori would still remain wet by the end of the day, and the next morning.
Madara grasped Mikito's shoulder after they walked for another hour.
She halted.
Gnarled trees the size of entire countries erupted in knotted root jumbles from the broken earth. They twisted and contorted far into the clouds where some bushy patches found their homes in the middle of clouds. Entire ecosystems existed within these great branches, with unique species coddled against their leaves and vines.
Undergrowth, taller and denser than full-sized trees elsewhere in the world, choked the sodden ground hundreds of feet below the light-gobbling canopy.
Worm-like vines and strangling creepers crisscrossed, struggling with one another in a slow fight for light and water. Fungi the size of tables jutted from sponge-damp wood to vomit clouds of toxic spores into the sodden air, and thick seas of rotting leaves pooled between buttress roots, several feet deep in places and writhing with tree-thick centipedes and venomous slugs.
Understanding where one species stopped and another began was a task in the green chaos. All kinds of creatures, plant, animal, or something in between, twisted around and through each other in a savage fight for survival. An extreme environment that rewarded extreme adaptations in its inhabitants. The fight to survive fashioned many bizarre life-forms, skewed versions of recognizable modern species, others were something from a bygone era.
The jungle was in an everlasting twilight.
Leafy branches, high above, stole light before it could filter to the floor, rendering a world in muted green during the day. At night, moonlight was echoed in luminous pools by light-emitting creatures, and plants that oozed glowing liquid, calling insects to their doom. The creatures of the jungle learned to use this darkness to their advantage, concealing themselves in its protective embrace or developing means to pierce the perpetual darkness.
Plants defended themselves with toxins, thorns, spikes, and gnarls, only to be eaten by creatures with immunity or extreme tolerance to pain. Prey hid beneath camouflage, only to be detected by a hunter's heat sensitive organs or piercing eyes. Scaly armor met bladed claws. Bony clubs met serrated teeth. Sharpened teeth crashed on hardened horn. Lapping tongues recoiled from poison.
Everything in this place was was at war with itself and reveled in it.
It thrived.
Madara wiped the sweat from his chin, turning his eyes skyward.
There was an entire ecosystem of its own, distinct from the lightless depths of the broken jungle floor where he was at the moment, the lofty canopy was a green maze of dizzy spans and shifting leaf walls. Wind, either gently breezing or violently shaking, rendered the canopy a world in perpetual motion. This was a transitory environment. A place of fluidity, A place of cycle.
A place that water, light, and life passed through on their way to the earth. The creatures of the canopy clung in this heaven by whatever claws, fingers, or limbs they had, swatted by elements in service to the powerful pull of gravity. By whatever adaptations they might possess, the inhabitants of the jungle's ceiling struggled to interrupt and steal what water, light, and life they could as it passed.
Madara felt a pang of pity.
They were fragile things clinging to a tenuous existence.
Yet, they fought so hard. They fought with all of their might and will.
Due to the volcanic nature in some areas there were heavy compositions of brittle, quick setting glasses and weathered granite. Incessant rainfall and flooding had carved numerous deep cracks, pits, and narrow valleys running towards the ocean and surrounding lakes and rivers. Rains from higher elevations settled in low spots and depressions. The end result was a dark soup of decay.
Arich ground for an entire niche of invertebrate life, the giant scavengers.
With sunlight rarely touching these deep places, a number of arthropods, arachinds, and other creeping creatures roamed to feast on the dead. Holes were crowded with hundreds of worm like creatures, covered in a bony shell, while its soft, pink body contained fearsome jaws to entrap and kill prey. Giant arachnids, some the ize of boulders, scorpions the length of trees, centipedes and millipedes that were like boles themselves, all ensnared prey with claws and venom.
Madara felt like they were making no progress at all. The vegetation they were in was dense now, denser than the vegetation had been where they started. Denser than the vegetation where the natural war was taking place. The trees themselves were going up to the clouds, the branches were as large as entire city blocks and tried to reign supreme in the stratosphere. The roots were as large as mountains and engorged the ground to the point in some areas it cracked.
The ground was constantly shaking, as well. The thumps were powerful, and constant. Not at all erratic. It wasn't the shaking of explosions. He couldn't smell the scent of burning flesh, oozing organs that were blackening, or the raspy fumes of smoke. These had to be footsteps. Of something huge-big, something that had to weigh hundreds of thousands of pounds.
Of some primitive battle taking place beyond the darkness of this plexus.
The sun was just beaming through the thick cover.
"Mikito..."
She didn't make a visible reaction to his voice, nor his hand on her shoulder. She wasn't as still as a statue, but she wasn't despondent either. There was an eerie calm...
Madara wasn't sure why he felt so unnerved by it. It was almost as bad as her statement.
"I'll show you that Hashirama and Tobirama are just small fries. That these shinobi villages are nothing. I understand your wariness, but until things come full circle in that regard, fretting about is useless.""
Madara had a grudging respect for the brothers.
Hashirama had always stayed a step ahead of him. He could contend with him, push him to his limits, but Hashirama would always ensnare him somehow. Even if he destroyed his forests and burned his wood constructs to the ground, the fact Hashirama got the better of him, multiple times, meant defeat.
He couldn't just blow them off. He couldn't blow off the reality of Konoha.
Kumogakure.
The shinobi villages.
"Can I ask you a serious question, Madara?"
Taken by surprise, Madara released her shoulder and took a step back.
He could sense the intensity of Mikito, and distanced himself out of respect. He would too, grow intense. This was no joking matter, and depending on his response, it could effect how she views him. It was such a simple question, at first glance. Many considered power to be something that is feasible, wielded with one's own hand, used to conquer. Used to best a foe in combat. Used to kill a foe in combat.
Power was the ability to do things. To make things happen. To make one's dream a reality. Without power everything was a pipe dream. Hashirama had proven that much. This dark era had proven as much.
Still...
Something wasn't sitting right with him.
"Mikito-"
"Please, Madara." Mikito's tone was soft but earnest, she nodded ahead. "Let's walk and talk. We won't be late to the meeting."
Madara found himself following after her, ready to give his answer. "Power is the ability to make things happen. It's what makes one's dreams a reality. Hashirama has proven as much. Power is something feasible, wielded by one's own hand. Power is the ability to best a foe in combat. To kill a foe."
Mikito's expression gave nothing away. They were coming to the clearing now, where the monsters and beasts roamed. Where they reigned supreme. No longer, would they be cut off from these monsters by the plexus of vegetation. No longer would their roars of fury, hunger, and sorrow be deafened by the boles that towered beyond the clouds.
The shaking grew more rampant.
Madara immediately went on guard, hearing a bellow. It was loud. Ear piercing. The blood thirst behind the curdle was permeable. It made his skin crawl and prickle. It made his hair bristle.
The sight before his eyes took his breath away, in the worst possible way. He couldn't remember the last time he was left speechless to the point of shock, surprise, fear, or some other overwhelming emotion. More over, he hadn't been rendered speechless due to any of these emotions in a very long time. There was no possible way to describe what he was seeing.
Lizard-like beasts with had tiny heads, massive bodies, and long tails roamed below. There were many that were thirty meters, thirty three meters, and thirty five meters in sheer length. They must have weighed close to one hundred tons, if not more. Their hind legs were thick, straight, and powerful, ending in club-like feet with four toes, all of them bore claws. Their forelimbs were more slender hands built for supporting weight.
Some were extremely large, long-necked, with a long, whip-like tail, and forelimbs that were slightly shorter than their hind limbs. They were easily thirty two meters long from head to tail.
Others had a small skull, a long neck, a large trunk with a high-ellipsoid cross section, a long, muscular tail and slender, columnar limbs. This beast's skull had a robust, wide muzzle and thick jaw bones, with spoon–shaped teeth. An arch of bone over the snout and in front of the eyes that encircled the nasal opening. Unlike the other lumbering beasts, this seemed to slightly sprawled at the shoulder joint, and the ribcage was unusually deep-its trunk the trunk was inclined, with the front much higher than the hips, and the neck exiting the trunk at a steep angle.
There were many that were very large, long-necked beasts, with long, whip-like tails. Their fore limbs were slightly shorter than their hind limbs, resulting in a largely horizontal posture. Next to them were large, long-necked beasts with long, whip-like tails. Their forelimbs were slightly shorter than their hind limbs.
A distance away from there were gigantic beasts with long necks and tails and relatively long limbs. Their bodies were partly covered in bony armor. Their footsteps were like thunder and rumbled the landscape-their roars, mighty as they were, didn't exemplify their gentle nature. Their teeth were flat, geared for plant eating and grazing.
In the distance, he could only see darkness. But, that didn't make any sense. From their current position-they could see the entire jungle floor beneath without any trouble. It could only mean that beasts and monsters-thousands of feet in length and width, far too diverse and monstrous to begin to describe were battling and ripping each other apart...They must have dwarfed the monstrosities here.
He seen many things in his lifetime, but Madara never witnessed a full scale slaughter such as this.
He lunged back-just avoiding a massive maggot-like worm with sharp mandibles slammed into the cliff face he stood on. The monster that was responsible for throwing the monstrosity was just as massive-two legs, a heavy body, and one giant maw with ten rows of serrated teeth. The first impact was jarring enough-Madara felt the bones in his body heave and his stomach dip.
The second impact was even more thunderous, releasing a cloud of blood, gore, and debris as far as he could see.
With haste, he turned to find Mikito.
She was where she had been before.
He felt the need to scream her name, but didn't. There was a flinty resolve in Mikito's eyes. There wasn't a shred of fear, doubt, nor hesitation as she watched the melee unfold. The shrieks, roars, and bellows didn't make her cover her ears. It almost jarred him to his core. How could she remain so calm, in the face of these monsters that nearly towered into the sky.
"Power to you...Is..." Mikito breathed, turning her gaze onto her husband. "The power you speak of requires an opponent...In other words, it is power or strength that is realized in victory or defeat."
She turned her eyes to the wasteland ahead. It reeked of death. This was the harsh, cruel reality. The harsh nature. The sorrow of nature. There was no such thing as victory. Victory was but folly against such humongous and gigantic monstrosities. Against these beasts and abominations. Still, every Domou had to contend with these monstrosities at some point.
"Yes." Madara nodded, slowly making his way to her side.
"Power is something else completely to me..." Mikito pointed ahead, her eyes focused on a humanoid-like beast with four arms and ten legs. "As we complete our training, we must go out there in the shadowlands and fend for ourselves. Everyone will have to go through it. "
"Even me?"
Mikito looked at him. "I want you to do it."
Madara would have normally shook his head in sheer exasperation or scoffed. He was willing to do a lot of things-he jumped into the heat of battle without any fear or hesitation. He made mad dashes for Hashirama and anyone else that wanted to get in his way, he leveled mountains with his Susano'o and tore rifts through the ground with its blades.
Despite all of that, he knew it was paltry in comparison to these monsters.
"You expect me to kill those things?"
"To be honest. What you are seeing now, is just the tip of the iceberg. There is an entire ecosystem out there."
Madara was careful to remain stoic. Mikito really wasn't expecting him to go out there and face off against all of those monsters. There were a good majority that dwarfed his Susano'o at full power. And, some, there was no way they could be killed or defeated. They were too massive, too monstrous, too aggressive, and their blood thirst knew no bounds.
Facing off against these monsters would take every ounce of his will, focus, strength, grit, and wit...In the end, all of those things may be broken or shattered, they may be pushed to their utmost limit before shattering. If he wavered for a second, he'd just be a morsel to those beasts. They may not even notice him, and just grind him into the ground like gory pulp.
To be frank, he wasn't sure if he could contend with these monsters...Some were just towering, way too massive to begin to comprehend. According to Mikito, this was just the beginning, hardly. There was an entire ecosystem of these monsters out there, and he couldn't begin to imagine the sheer diversity of it. Their hunger must be insatiable and primordial. There was no beginning and no end to it. They loved blood.
The crunch of bones.
Madara crossed his arms tightly, inhaling briskly.
He could feel his fingers shaking ever so slightly, the pin pricks of doubt. Hesitation breezed down his spine. He kept his eyes locked on the 'shadow lands' as Mikito called it. She wasn't wrong in dubbing it that.
The canopy was so thick and bushy that the sun just got through enough to give enough light for foliage to thrive. In other places it must have beamed on the ground full blast, but he could see that even the canopy out in the distance was something akin to overwhelming.
In the middle of it were the beasts and monsters that every Domou faced.
That every Domou had to face.
That Mikito wanted him to face.
Did power mean anything before these monsters?
No.
Certainly, he could burn them, but some were so big...He'd need to consume the entire surrounding area with flames just to ensure he finished them off. So their flesh melted and so their bones thawed until the marrow dripped to the ground like blacken sludge. Still, he'd have to contend with more monsters and strange creatures-an entire ecosystem.
"Power to me is...Being able to not just survive, but thrive in those shadow lands-where these monsters roam. There is victory here, it doesn't exist. It is a battle against harsh, cruel nature. Power to me is being able to punch a hole through those monsters, and still have more then enough left in reserve to fend off entire hordes. That is power to me. This power is different than the power you have wanted to attain."
Madara wasn't sure what to say.
Mikito was right. It was a different power, In essence, it could be considered not to be power, but something else. Will. Determination. Resolve. He wasn't sure. But, the fact of the matter was that if he could thrive out there in the shadow lands and slay those monsters, Hashirama would be a cakewalk in comparison. The shinobi villages would be but mere paltry.
Even though it was the political power that these villages would hold that made him really wary-it would be good to know that he could level through any and all opposition at the drop of a hat.
A smirk crossed Madara's face, one that Mikito didn't miss.
"After we complete this mission and smooth things over...You and I will both go out there."
"I'm looking forward to it."
His concept of power would certainly change with this, but the sheer facts of the matter...
It was worth it.
Well worth it.
Madara shook his head, clearing away the haze and fog. The memory was as vivid as reality itself, and it'd definitely stick with him, for several reasons. Still, he kept his mind focused on the present.
He inhaled.
He exhaled.
Focus on the mission.
There were thousands of people around him-all wearing the uniforms that they were supposed to. He could see several Domou off to the side that he hadn't seen before. Hiyori was sitting a few feet away from the action, eyes focused on the ground as his hand kept a firm grip on the hilt of his blade. Next to him was a sharp eyed man with spiky-bushy hair, just barely kept in a ponytail that went to his mid-back.
He too remained silent.
Yamanami stood near the building he was supposed to enter, arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look irate, but he didn't look calm either. There was an eerie readiness in his gaze, a too relaxed slouch to his posture.
More people came, crowding around and getting organized.
There was a buzz in the air.
It wasn't excitement. It wasn't trepidation. It wasn't fear. It wasn't anxiety. It was a knowing. A realization. What they would find on this mission would draw the ire of many-there was no way to react to seeing people covered in filth and their own waste. It'd push others to their limit. For others, it was a matter of not slaughtering the whole lot of slave traders. For some, it was the fact they'd be putting an end to it.
Too often, shinobi fell prey to the very same trade, and some clans even sold their own into slavery.
This was revenge at its finest.
Madara turned his eyes forward, took a breath, and took a step forward. Another. And another. He fell into a rhythm. He walked past the groups of people, keeping his focus on the building ahead. It was still a surreal experience seeing so many grouped together. Uchiha. Domou. Kurama. Yuhi. Terumi. Shimura. Haruno. Namikaze. Nohara. Civilians that had and were still undergoing training. Even Senju. Men and women. Young men and young women, they all stood together. All of those that were combat able stood side by side.
It was plain to see that there was no real separation between them. Certainly, their appearances all differed greatly. Their talents and abilities differed greatly. The beliefs their clans once held-all under the shinobi sect ideal, had differed wildly. But, now, none of that mattered. They all wore the same uniforms. There was awkwardness and even a bit of anxiousness-many of these people were or in other circumstances, would be enemies.
That didn't matter either though. Their abilities and talents were integrated into the regiment and curriculum. The Nohara's advance medical knowledge, the Haruno's strength, the Kurama's genjutsu prowess, the Yuhi's subtlety, and so forth...All of it had been combined, and in some areas, was still being combined and worked out so there were no kinks in the learning process. They weren't holding to the shinobi sect, any longer.
They all lived together and trained together. There was no need for keeping secrets. Any and all abilities and talents were useful, and were meant to be honed and refined.
Madara entered the spacious room, taking a seat in the last empty chair-next to Izuna.
The other clan leaders were all present in addition to Souji and Shinpachi.
Daishiro was at the head of the table, a sign that he took center point. Madara knew that the Shimura was used to leading. Daishiro had been leading ever since he was a child and it was where he truly shined. There wasn't any single person more shrewd and insightful than the elder Shimura. He led the previous Wind damiyo into a downward spiral before slaying the tyrant.
He also brought Butsuma to death's edge more than once, something Madara couldn't help but be satisfied with.
"Before we begin. Does anyone object to me, Katsumi, and Kosuke taking the lead with this?" Daishiro asked lightly.
Everyone was looking at the map of the world-the Tea country, a dip off the Fire country, was circled. There were three lands outside of the Elemental Nations that were also marked. It was situated at the front of the room, presented on an extremely large scroll that spared no detail or line. Every river, lake, trade route, location, village, and any place of significance was marked.
"I have no misgivings. You are all more knowledgeable of the outside lands and nations." Chie stated.
"You have layouts or blueprints of the boats and how they're designed as well as their military strength. You can only take the lead in this regard." Saki said, nodding her head once.
Daishiro crossed his arms over his chest as Akari tapped her finger on the scroll. She kept it focused just near the water, near the southern tip. She traced its edge for a few centimeters, stopping short of the river that ran through.
"The ports are all located here. We're going to be spaced apart by more than one hundred feet, give or take. That's assuming that less than a dozen boats will be coming in." Akari noted, scowling just slightly.
She respected Daishiro and the Shimura. There are very good reasons why they were so cautious of the outside lands and nations. The Shimura always calculated everything down to the last grain of sand, before they made their move. It was swift and silent. Was it the sheer firepower and manpower these outside nations and lands had?
"That's why we're taking so many people with us." Izuna acknowledged, standing up and walking towards the scroll. He traced his finger in the same place Akari had.
"At the most, one hundred and fifty ships can fit where Akari had her finger. But, there are dozens, even hundreds of more ports. We should be expecting thousands. Prepare for the worst. It's safe to say that we'll be splitting up once we get into the Tea country. Some units may have only two people or just one person, others may have five hundred. The genjutsu that we lay in place will take care of any other hindrances."
Katsumi nodded, carefully removing the scroll and putting up another. "This is a blueprint of the ships that we'll be raiding."
The scroll in question was just a bit smaller. There was dark ink-varying shades of black, all meticulously traced and curved. It was the clear diagram of a ship.
"That thing is huge..." Yumi muttered, eyes narrowing at the image.
Daishiro grabbed a slender, sharp piece of wood. He put it on the top level of the ship-where the sails were located. He put it on the seven levels that were below the top deck, and then began to trace around the entire length of it completely. "The bottom four levels are where the slaves are located. The two levels below the top are where the soldiers, workers, and other people like that stay. There are also rooms for soldiers in the lower levels. Cannons line both sides of ship, on five levels. They also use firearms."
Mimori blinked, looking confused. "Fire...Arm?"
"They put fire on their arm somehow, and launch it?" Izuna ventured, shrugging when the older woman looked at him. "I don't know."
Ai cleared her throat gently, raising her hand. "I think I know what he's talking about. The Water damiyo has had dealings with the outside lands and nations...Basically, a firearm is something constructed with a barrel. Gunpowder-what we used for our explosive tags, is put in somehow-and the explosion from that, fires the projectile that they put in the barrel. The Water damiyo has many of these weapons, and boats."
"What do they use for the projectile?"
"They call it a bullet. It's like a steel ball, in a sense. We don't know the actual material that is used, but considering how deadly they can be..." Kosuke trailed off.
"They can hit a target from a good distance away, as well. I'd say about thirty to fifty feet away from the target. In addition, they use cannons as well. I don't need to speak on just how effective those things can be." Katsumi finished.
"It seems that an all out blitz attack won't play into our favor. They're not aware of the fact we'd have placed a genjutsu-they're not trained in the shinobi arts. Still, we will need to use stealth and speed." Souji remarked.
"It appears to look that way." Izuna noted with a blank expression.
"It's for the best, but we still need a lot of people raiding these boats. Once it begins, the rest will know or see what is happening. The problem is once we get into the lower levels, it becomes a maze, and there are soldiers and guards everywhere at that point. We can get the jump on them, before they can even prepare. But, we have to take the top levels by storm, one or two grunts may warn them, but that could play into our favor."
"Won't we just get clogged up as we descend?" Shinpachi asked, his eyes set on Katsumi, tone brusque.
"In theory...But, if a few dozen go down at a time, that shouldn't happen. The stairways, as you can see from these blueprints, are wide enough that three people can descend, with more than enough space for a few more. However, as we descend, there is a possibility that we can get clogged. For that reason, we will need those who aren't hesitant to kill in the front, three lines should be behind them to continue the wave."
Chie looked at Kosuke with caution, gently pursing her lips. "How many rooms are there for the guards and soldiers, and how many can these rooms house?"
"Seven at the max, but most rooms only have three men to them."
"So others have four up to seven, as well as just two or one." Saki remarked.
"Yes." Katsumi nodded.
Madara rubbed his chin, mulling it over. It could be done, but they'd need to kill anyone who even stepped in their path. There couldn't be a sliver of mercy shown or hesitation. Once they got on the boats and began to descend, there'd be one objective in mind, and only one objective. He knew these people wouldn't let the slaves go, and if worst came to worst, they'd start killing them on the spot.
Their attacks would have to be in absolute unison. There wasn't a margin for error.
"I have a suggestion." Izuna ventured, looking at Kosuke. "If you don't mind?"
"You have the floor, Izuna." Kosuke told him bluntly, folding his arms over his chest as he shifted to the side.
"Some of us should leave in advance and disguise ourselves as dock workers. We get there right on time with the boats, and we can start to work our way down into the ships' bowels. Once the attack starts we'll be able to pinch them on the middle floors. However, they could have the services of a shinobi clan, or more than one clan, therefore the people who are in this position must be carefully selected."
"I have no disagreements with that course of action, however..." Madara spoke, voice just carrying some wariness.
"That's right." Souji nodded, flicking his gaze onto him shortly before looking at everyone in tow. "We could be dealing with more than one shinobi clan, considering where we're going...The Akimichi or one of the packs of Inuzuka may be top contenders."
"So..." Mikito didn't look concerned.
"It's likely that two or three Inuzuka leaders are working together." Madara nodded, agreeing with Souji's sentiments on the matter. "If Atsushi is working with them, that's going to be trouble."
"That means someone will have to take care of Atsushi, as well as the possible Inuzuka leaders." Saki looked around at those gathered.
"I'll handle Atsushi if it comes down to it. Isamu will back me up if the second in command of the Akimichi is with Atsushi." Souji said.
"Are you sure?" Chie asked.
"No offence to you, but Atsushi is nine feet tall and twelve hundred pounds without using any of his jutsus." Akari seconded.
"I'll just turn my body into a weapon." Souji said simply. " Moving on."
"As long as we can overwhelm them, victory is ours. They won't be able to react in time. It is just a matter of them attacking the slaves before and during our movements, that will determine things" Daishiro said, eyes focusing on Mikito briefly.
"In any case as long as we attack with brutal force they can't do anything to stop us. Souji will handle Atsushi, we'll just have to delegate if there's Inuzuka leaders as well. I'll handle one, if able."
"Considering the location...Who would the leaders of the Inuzuka be in that direction?" Mimori asked.
"Given that it is winter, only two leaders could be there. Gentarou and Chouboyou. Only those two are so stubborn, and stupid, to try and claim that piece of land. Most Inuzuka move off the mainland, and onto the thousands of islands where it is warmer during the winter months." Izuna replied.
"I heard they battled with Chojo some time ago. If they are both there, someone will need to keep their attention...But, that can wait. The fact they'll be trapped in a genjutsu with no way of escaping will definitely play into our favor."
"Indeed. Those two will chase whoever faces them, and Atsushi is so brazen and hot blooded he'll forget his primary objective. That just leaves us with grunts, for the most part. There will be a lot of them, though. It's going to come down to a battle of endurance or speed. Can we eliminate our foes quickly and swiftly, or will it become too prolonged and be forced into an actual battle..."
In short, emotions couldn't come into play.
Not pity.
Not anger, either.
They'd all be hindrances.
Yumi kept her eyes fixed on Katsumi, careful to keep her expression stoic. She had always been wary of this woman, and the Shimura in general. They were able to flip on a switch and become pure and absolute killing machines. They didn't blink or stagger in the face of death, and only once their foes or task were complete, did they flip that switch off.
This was going to be nothing short of a massacre.
"We just have to kill them as quickly as possible." Mikito reasoned with a light shrug, eyes partly closed. "Well, we can incapacitate some. Need answers to our questions, after all."
"In essence, yes." Daishiro nodded.
"That's not too complicated, in any case." Mikito agreed.
"Now that we've got that squared away, it's time for us to depart." Katsumi said.
There were nods and soft grunts.
This will determine if we get checkmate...Failure isn't an option.