The first faint rays of dawn began to spill over the horizon, brushing the endless grassy plains with a golden hue. The morning mist slowly lifted, unveiling the massive stretch of land between two sides—one sheltering the advancing Iwagakure forces, and the other guarding the outskirts of the Third City, where Konoha's elite shinobi held their ground.
Throughout the long, moonlit hours, Konohagakure's shinobi had launched relentless attacks on Iwa's flanks. But despite their tenacity, Iwa's advance never faltered. Reinforcements had arrived under the veil of night, bolstering Iwa's ranks and reinforcing their unwavering march toward conquest.
And now, as the sun pierced the heavens, the assault on the Third City had truly begun.
To close the distance to the city's fortified outer wall—without being turned to cinders by the fierce onslaught of Konoha's Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu—the Iwa shinobi took to their strength: earth release. Massive walls of hardened stone erupted from the ground, one after another, forming makeshift barriers behind which the soldiers advanced. The terrain itself bent to the will of the Iwa army, each wall serving as a shield against the merciless fire jutsu raining from above.
But even stone had its limits.
From time to time, under the overwhelming pressure of multiple fireballs crashing into their defenses, the earthen walls would crumble—giving way to roaring flames. Screams echoed as several Iwa ninja were caught in the inferno, incinerated before they could even react. The scent of scorched flesh began to fill the battlefield.
By the time the Iwa forces reached the midway point, the tactics shifted. Earth Release: Rock Bullet Barrage and Mud Dragon Jutsu were unleashed toward the city walls to strike at the defenders above. Yet with the high ground in their favor, the Konoha shinobi easily avoided the majority of incoming attacks. Precision was difficult, and most jutsu either missed or were blocked. The two sides clashed in a storm of elemental might—one side pressing forward, the other fighting to hold the line.
But even Konoha's high vantage could not stop the truth: Iwa's forces were still growing in number. And now, they were mere meters from the walls.
The realization came grim and swift to the Konoha defenders: their defense, while formidable, was no longer enough. If Iwa's shinobi reached the base of the wall and made contact, the barrier would fall. Earth Release techniques were devastating against fortifications—and Iwa had mastered the element.
Shouts rang out as Iwa's front-line began shaping the battlefield anew. One by one, shinobi raised towering earthen staircases leading up to the wall. Others hurled long-range attacks to distract the defenders. Once the path was carved, waves of Iwa soldiers began charging up the makeshift stone stairs.
Konoha's response was immediate—Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique, Fire Dragon Flame Bullet—all aimed at halting the surge. And while some fireballs connected, causing Iwa shinobi to fall in flaming agony, many broke through the barrage, driven by unyielding resolve. The charging warriors knew turning back meant death, so they moved forward, no matter the cost.
The clash erupted along the entire length of the city's outer wall.
Kunai flashed, clashed, and found their marks. Shuriken whistled through the air like deadly whispers. Elemental jutsu collided midair, exploding in chaotic bursts. Each second claimed another life. The once-pristine stone walls were now slick with blood, dripping crimson down their faces like tears of war.
Slowly but inevitably, the Konoha defenders began to fall—overwhelmed by the sheer number of Iwa shinobi. As the wall was overrun, the battle spilled into the city itself. Street by street, alley by alley, the chaos spread. Iwa and Konoha clashed in brutal hand-to-hand combat, blades flashing, bodies collapsing onto the crimson-stained cobblestones.
Far from the burning city, atop a hill shaded by the forest, Orochimaru, Konoha's enigmatic second-in-command, stood in silence. His serpent eyes shimmered as they gazed upon the battle from a safe distance. Behind him, three masked ANBU knelt in the shadows.
"Commander," one ANBU spoke, voice firm. "The city has been breached. A significant force of Iwa shinobi has entered the interior. We estimate the defenses won't last much longer."
Orochimaru remained quiet for a moment, the wind tugging at his robes. His expression was unreadable.
"…It must be this way," he finally muttered, his voice low and unnervingly calm. "This is the only path to victory. We cannot let Iwa claim this stronghold."
He turned slightly, eyes glinting.
"Execute the plan."
The ANBU hesitated. Even through their masks, a moment of doubt passed among them. But they knew better than to question the Sannin.
"…It will be done."
With that, they vanished in a flicker of leaves, disappearing into the forest like ghosts.
Orochimaru remained alone, watching.
Back within the city's walls, the tide had turned drastically in Iwa's favor. Their troops now poured through every breach. Konoha's resistance was faltering. For every fallen Iwa ninja, three more took their place. The city's fall was imminent.
But then—
The ground began to glow.
First faintly, then brilliantly.
Every corner of the city, every rooftop, every street began to illuminate with a strange chakra-infused light. The fighting ceased for a brief second, as both Iwa and Konoha shinobi turned their gazes downward in confusion.
And then—the explosions began.
A massive, chained detonation erupted from beneath the city's surface. Hundreds—no, thousands—of explosive tags, hidden and interwoven into the very foundation of the city, detonated in rapid succession. Fire engulfed the city in a monstrous blaze. Buildings were swallowed whole, shockwaves tore through the streets, and shinobi—friend and foe alike—were incinerated where they stood.
From his vantage point, Orochimaru narrowed his eyes. The light from the explosion reflected in his pupils, giving him an almost serpentine gleam.
The city had been sacrificed.
A wall of fire rose into the sky, so massive it could be seen for miles. The explosions were so numerous, so fierce, it was as though the earth itself had cried out in agony.
"There's no surviving that," he whispered. "Not even for a Jōnin."
His voice was cold. Final.
And then, silence. The roar of destruction faded into an eerie stillness.
What once was a city—what once held thousands of warriors—was now a smoking graveyard. The air was thick with ash, and the ground littered with charred remains. The city was gone. Only scorched stone and shadowed corpses remained, their identities lost in the fire.
Orochimaru turned his back on the smoldering ruin.
"…This is only the beginning of the plan."