Chapter 75.4- One Thousand Hands

The land of grass was filled with large swathes of grass that reached up to my waist in places, and merely up to my knees in others. It was harder to move through at a rapid speed, but we made good enough time. Especially when you consider the fact that we were only making a relatively brief detour here. My byakugan did not have the best range but with Uraume by my Sid, it was child’s play to notice and mark out the IWa patrols as they moved through the country..

So far, we had spotted about four of them and every time, Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and Tsunade had been sent too take them out. The would-be Sannin were not my most ardent supporters. I’d essentially stabbed their Sensei through the chest to get this position so it was not something I faulted them for. Still. They were shinobi of konohogakure and I was the Hokage. They listened, because it was what was good for them and the day they ceased to listen would be the day I put them down like rapid dogs. Well, maybe not Tsunade— the others were fair game though. Tsunade would find herself locked p if she decided to ferment rebellion. The others would find themselves in shallow graves, unmarked, and unhonored..

The village itself wa right between Konoha and Iwa. It was basically a straight line from Konoha to the village and then down to Iwa. Apparently that was coincidental, but it seemed like a mighty fine coincidence. Still, we moved in. We did not hav time for me to wonder just what influences the large villages ha had on the formation of smaller ones like this one. We ran forwards, and then scaled the walls, about a third of my force moving into the village proper while the other two-thirds remained at the wall.

From behind me, my loyal soldiers fanned out, moving to root out every trace of Iwa influence. Our spies said Iwa had placed a large collection of shinobi here to act as a reserve and pacify the place. They moved to deal with that while I walked to the bungalow at the center. It was the building that had once belonged to the Head Jounin of Kusagakure— a man who deigned to refer to himself as the Kusakage. He had bent the knee to Onoki when the time came and so I knew he would still be there. Probably with whoever had been appointed as his babysitter.

I watched the would-be ambush as it was prepared for me with a smile. When I reached the door, instead of knocking or opening it. I took a breath and then exhaled a blas of hurricane force winds that forced the door off its hinges and back inside the room. The poison that formed the bulk of the trap exploded into pink gas. I took a hold of the air around my head, weaved two seals, and was assured of a continuous supply of fresh oxygen as I walked into the bungalow.