After Arima unleashed the jutsu, everyone on the battlefield felt the earth beneath them tremble violently.
In the blink of an eye, countless vines erupted from the ground, whipping through the air and attacking everyone present.
This sudden phenomenon immediately brought the chaotic battle to a halt.
The Konoha forces quickly realized that their reinforcements had arrived, and they took the opportunity to regroup.
The Kumogakure forces weren't fools either, they too began to rally their strength. The two armies now stood in a tense standoff.
Many on the battlefield were still confused, not understanding why the atmosphere had shifted so suddenly or why both sides had ceased their attacks.
Seeing the armies pull back, Arima thought to himself, 'Now it'll be easier to handle things.'
He repeated the technique he had used in the previous battlefront, swiftly forming hand signs to summon True Several Thousand Hands, calling forth the enormous wooden Avalokiteśvara statue once again.
Everyone present was stunned by this godlike display of power.
Even Hiruzen and the others were speechless. They had never imagined Arima possessed such overwhelming strength.
They thought, 'So this is the power that once brought peace to the chaos of the Warring States Period... No wonder it's known as the strongest Kekkei Genkai of legend, the true Wood Release.'
The Kumogakure forces were utterly cowed by this display. None dared to make a move.
That towering wooden statue loomed above them like a sword hanging by a thread, ready to fall at any moment and claim their lives.
Negotiations for surrender became trivial in the face of such overwhelming power. The tide of war was crushed with ease.
Only now did Arima realize that he had inherited the very power his grandfather once wielded to end the age of conflict.
And only now did he understand he had been far too cautious.
If he had used this technique from the beginning, would the warmongers of Kumogakure have dared bare their fangs at Konoha?
Still, it wasn't too late. Arima could still use his strength to protect the village, to protect the home he cherished.
He soon reunited with everyone and relayed everything that had happened on the first battlefield.
The good news lifted everyone's spirits. Hiruzen and the others thought, 'The war might finally be over.'
Just as Arima was preparing to leave the battlefield with the others, he sharply sensed someone watching him.
Yet, when he extended his senses, he found nothing, no presence, no chakra fluctuation. It was as if he'd imagined it all.
But Arima trusted his instincts. He was certain it wasn't an illusion. Someone had been observing him, and they had done so using some kind of mysterious technique.
Despite his vast knowledge of ninjutsu, he still couldn't uncover who or what it was.
By the time they saw their encampment from afar, dusk had already fallen. They had been on the move for over ten hours, and fatigue weighed heavily on their bodies and minds.
All they wanted now was to wrap up post-battle cleanup and rest.
But when Arima arrived at the camp, what he found left him stunned. The entire area had been ravaged.
Every logistics ninja left behind had been slaughtered in brutal, sadistic ways, none survived.
And the methods used were unmistakably those of the Gold and Silver Brothers from Kumogakure.
Arima immediately tried to sense the Flying Thunder God seals he had placed on the two of them, but he found nothing. The seals were gone. Clearly, the culprits had already escaped.
Among the dead were the young Genin who had traveled with him from Konoha.
Just days ago, they had been joking and laughing with him, dreaming of returning home together to see the cherry blossoms bloom.
Some of them had even stood beside him when he faced the Tailed Beast Bomb from the Gold and Silver Brothers, insisting on dying with him if it came to that.
Though they had only known each other for less than a month, Arima had committed every one of their names to memory.
They had been so young, just beginning their journeys as shinobi, with bright futures ahead. And now, only cold, lifeless corpses remained.
Looking at the pained expressions frozen on their faces, Arima was overwhelmed by guilt and regret.
He'd had the time to strike fear into Kumogakure's lines, to crush the war swiftly. He should have ended it sooner. He should have returned sooner.
A sharp pain clenched in his chest, and without realizing it, the Sharingan in his eyes activated.
Three tomoe swirled rapidly, seemingly on the verge of forming into a new shape.
But it wasn't enough. The grief in Arima's heart hadn't yet reached the threshold to awaken the Mangekyo Sharingan.
He didn't notice this change himself, but his emotions were clearly different. For the first time, a storm of uncontrollable rage surged within him.
He was sure now that the one who had been watching him earlier had something to do with freeing the Gold and Silver Brothers.
Suppressing the grief and fury threatening to break free, Arima began checking the bodies one by one, desperately hoping to find a survivor, someone who could give him answers.
But over a hundred shinobi had been stationed here, and not one had survived.
The other Konoha ninja who had returned with him were equally shaken. Many of the fallen had been their comrades, lovers, even blood relatives.
The encampment was drowned in grief. Gone was the pride they had felt earlier, the triumphant high of victory. No one cheered for the end of war anymore.
Some clung to hope, digging through the bodies for signs of life. But reality was cruel. Soon, wails of sorrow echoed across the camp. It became a place of mourning.
Arima rose to his feet and walked over to Hiruzen. "Hiruzen," he said solemnly, "I'm going after the Gold and Silver Brothers. I'm leaving this place in your hands."
Hiruzen had wanted to stop him. He believed they should wait for their teacher's return and make a plan together.
But part of him also wanted revenge. And besides, with Arima's unmatched strength, there was little in the shinobi world that could threaten him.
So Hiruzen nodded in the end and summoned the others. After a quick discussion, they agreed to let Arima act alone.
Koharu was deeply worried. She didn't want Arima to take such a risk, but in the end, she chose to trust his strength.
Unwilling to part with him so abruptly, Koharu insisted on seeing him off.
Arima embraced his senpai tightly, whispering a few words to reassure her.
Seeing how determined he was, Koharu had no choice but to let him go.
She handed him her supplies and straightened his collar.
"Revenge can wait. If you run into danger, promise me you'll stay alive no matter what. Don't forget, your sister is still waiting for you to come home."
Arima gave her a firm nod, then turned and vanished from sight.
As Koharu made her way back alone, her right eyelid twitched uncontrollably. To her, it was always a bad omen.
All she could do now was pray in her heart for her little brother's safe journey.
Meanwhile, Arima followed the trail left behind. But something puzzled him, it led toward the Land of Water.
That didn't make sense. Logically, the Gold and Silver Brothers should be fleeing back to the Land of Lightning. Why head toward the Land of Water?
The realization unsettled him.
If they had already crossed the sea, their trail would vanish entirely.
At that point, Arima could only hope for calm seas and the nose of a bloodhound. Otherwise, tracking them would be like searching for a needle in the ocean.
He pushed his body to the limit, entering Sage Mode to travel at full speed toward the coast.
When he arrived, he found that the trail ended at the shoreline. The Gold and Silver Brothers had already escaped across the sea.
Disappointed, Arima sat cross-legged at the port, staring blankly at the rising sun. He had been chasing them all night. Exhaustion, both mental and physical, weighed down on him.
A kind middle-aged fisherman passed by and saw the boy sitting alone, gazing out at the ocean.
Thinking he was the child of another fisherman, the man approached and asked, "Hey kid, are you waiting for someone?"
Arima replied quietly, "Two guys with horns on their heads."
The fisherman's expression turned strange. Not long ago, he'd heard someone talking about that very thing.
He remembered a man telling him that, in the early morning hours, two horned men had forced him to ferry them across the sea. They didn't pay and had threatened him to keep quiet.
Seeing the man's reaction, Arima perked up. "Did you see those two yourself?"
The fisherman shook his head. "Not me, but someone I know did. Said they forced him to take them somewhere, and warned him not to speak a word."
Arima's heart leapt.
He asked, "Where did they go?"
The fisherman scratched his head. "I think... they went toward the Land of Whirlpools.
A place where a lot of people have bright red hair like chili peppers. But those two definitely didn't have red hair... and they didn't look like they were going there for business either..."
Arima had heard enough. He didn't wait for the man to finish complaining. He jumped to his feet and rushed off.
His next destination, the Land of Whirlpools, his grandmother's homeland.
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