Chapter 137

Jiraiya looked at Mifune, whose face was etched with despair, and let out a bitter smile.

Deep down, Jiraiya couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the samurai leader. He understood that Mifune's rebellion wasn't born entirely out of ambition but was, in large part, provoked by the Five Great Ninja Villages themselves.

If they hadn't barged into the Land of Iron to hold the Five Kage Summit without so much as a warning, Mifune and his samurai might have harbored resentment but never would have dared to rise in open defiance.

But—

Jiraiya was now Hokage. As the leader of Konoha, his duty was to protect the interests of his village, even if it meant silencing those who resisted the established order.

With a heavy sigh, Jiraiya muttered under his breath, "I'm sorry, Mifune."

His heart weighed down by his role, Jiraiya placed his hands on the ground and activated a technique.

"Earth Style: Swamp of the Underworld!"

The ground within a hundred-meter radius around Mifune softened and turned into a sticky swamp, dragging the samurai leader's feet into the muck and immobilizing him.

Mifune, poised for a desperate last stand, felt his legs sink into the mire. His katana faltered mid-draw as he realized he was trapped.

"This is the difference between ninjas and samurai," Mifune said bitterly, gripping his katana tightly before lowering it in resignation.

He clenched his teeth and glared at Jiraiya, his voice filled with anguish. "If it were a head-on confrontation, I might not have won, but I could have held my ground for a time. But under the oppressive power of your ninjutsu, I can barely muster a fraction of my strength."

Jiraiya said nothing. His expression was unreadable as he drew out the fire seal to prepare his next attack. He had already resolved to end this swiftly, knowing that hesitation could lead to greater suffering on both sides.

"Goodbye, Mifune," Jiraiya said quietly.

"Fire Style: Flame Dragon Bomb!"

A roaring flame erupted from Jiraiya's mouth, cutting through the air with devastating intensity. The searing heat reached Mifune before the flames did, scorching his hair and eyebrows.

There was no doubt—Mifune was doomed to perish under the inferno.

But just as the flames were about to engulf him, a soft, glowing light flickered to life around Mifune.

Then, a voice, calm and serene, spoke into his ear: "Hold on, Mifune."

At that moment, everything around him seemed to freeze.

The roaring flames slowed to a crawl, their destructive beauty resembling strokes of orange paint on a canvas. The world itself seemed to pause, trapped in an eerie stillness.

"Who... who are you?" Mifune whispered, his voice trembling. Even as he faced certain death, this inexplicable phenomenon left him unnerved.

Then, as though struck by a sudden revelation, a single name burst into his mind.

"Uzumaki Chito!"

Mifune's despair melted away, replaced by a surge of hope and exhilaration.

In this world, who but Uzumaki Chito—the one revered as a god—could save him from the jaws of death with nothing more than a single word?

Mifune began to laugh, his calm and stoic demeanor crumbling under the weight of his elation. For the first time in years, a glimmer of boundless confidence shone in his eyes.

On the other side, Jiraiya watched Mifune's laughter with growing confusion.

Shouldn't he be terrified? Jiraiya thought, his brow furrowing. No matter how proud he is, he's facing certain death. What's so funny?

But the thought barely settled in Jiraiya's mind before unease crept over him.

The fire dragon he had unleashed—the unstoppable wave of destruction—was gone.

Vanished without a trace.

Jiraiya's eyes narrowed, his instincts screaming danger. For a seasoned ninja like him, anything abnormal was a sign of imminent threat.

And then he heard it.

Amid Mifune's laughter, a name rang out, loud and clear.

"Uzumaki Chito!"

Jiraiya's blood ran cold.

A shiver coursed through his body as if he had been plunged into icy water. His entire demeanor shifted; gone was the confident warrior, replaced by a man deeply unnerved.

He whipped his head around, his eyes darting frantically as though searching for a predator lurking in the shadows.

Though he saw nothing, his unease only deepened.

Finally, he spoke, his voice trembling with both respect and fear.

"Lord Chito, are you interfering in this matter?"

"If you are, please make your intentions clear. I'll withdraw my forces immediately."

The air grew heavy as the sky above flickered with a soft, lavender light. The faint glow coalesced, forming what appeared to be a human figure.

Though hazy and indistinct, the form was unmistakably Uzumaki Chito.