The Mizukage Is Strong But Overly Cautious

The scene before them was a devastating blow to the morale of the Mizukage's forces.

Before the battle had even begun in earnest, two of their strongest warriors had already fallen—one defecting to the enemy mid-fight, and the other brutally backstabbed in the opening moments.

How could they possibly fight under such circumstances?

The leader of the Mizukage Guards glared at the Suikazan fuguki, his expression burning with rage. Traitors were despised no matter where they were.

Black Hoe Jinin, wielder of Kiba, the Twin Lightning Blades, struggled to rise, his breath ragged. Blood gushed from the deep wound in his chest, soaking the front of his uniform.

"Suikazan Fuguki…" he gasped, his voice thick with pain. "You… damn traitor…"

He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his fury unyielding despite his body's failing strength.

Thanks to his formidable ninja constitution, the injuries that would have been fatal to an ordinary person could still be treated—if he had the chance.

But in the middle of a battlefield, with his supposed allies betraying him, that chance was nonexistent.

The Suikazan Fuguki grinned cruelly from a distance. He knew Black Hoe Jinin well—too well. They had fought side by side for years, and in that time, he had learned the man's deadliest techniques.

Jinin possessed a move akin to self-destruction—one last, desperate gambit fueled by the explosive power of his Lightning Style.

And now that his body was weakening, he wouldn't be able to pull it off.

Thus, among the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, Black Hoe Jinin—once a wielder of legendary blades—became the first high-ranking casualty of this battle.

Suddenly, a sharp, grating laugh echoed across the battlefield, yanking everyone back to reality.

Yagura stood at the edge of the lake, his face twisted into a cruel smirk. His gaze locked onto the Suikazan Fuguki, filled with something between amusement and satisfaction.

"Hahahaha!" he cackled. "Well done, Suikazan Fuguki!"

"I never expected you to act this well."

It was now obvious to everyone—the wielder of Samehada had long since been bought by Yagura. And this betrayal had been planned for precisely this moment.

Hearing Yagura's words, the Suikazan Fuguki landed beside him, wearing an expression of pure sycophancy.

"It was all thanks to your brilliance, Minister Yagura," he fawned. "I simply followed the flow."

The shameless display made many of the surrounding ninjas frown in disgust.

Even those in Yagura's camp looked down on such a pathetic display.

"Hmm?" Yagura raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

The Suikazan Fuguki flinched, then quickly corrected himself, his voice laced with desperation.

"No—I mean, Lord Fourth Mizukage."

Yagura's smirk widened.

That was more like it.

The other ninjas shivered at the sheer lack of dignity in the Suikazan FugukiPufferfish's actions. The man had no shame—no pride as a warrior.

But to Yagura, none of that mattered.

"Very good," Yagura said, nodding in satisfaction. "I knew I wasn't wrong about you."

His confidence was understandable.

After all, his forces now had a clear advantage—both in numbers and in high-level combat power.

With three members of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen under his command, Yagura could now launch a full-scale assault. The Third Mizukage—no matter how skilled—would not be able to defend against an overwhelming force.

Victory was inevitable.

Yagura could already see it: a decisive battle that would end in his triumph.

There was no way he could lose now.

But just as he basked in the certainty of his success, the battlefield shifted once more.

A thick, oppressive mist suddenly rolled in, consuming everything in an instant.

The Mist.

Yagura's confident grin faltered as his surroundings were swallowed by white.

The visibility dropped to nearly zero—less than a meter ahead.

It wasn't just his sight. His hearing, his sense of smell—every sensory ability was being suppressed.

This was no natural mist.

This was Ninjutsu.

Hidden Mist Jutsu.

Yagura clenched his teeth.

"Tch… resorting to tricks now?" he sneered. "How desperate."

But as a Mist Shinobi himself, he knew the weakness of this technique.

It was an old and familiar strategy—one that every elite ninja of Kirigakure had encountered.

And he had developed a counter for it.

Wind Style: Cyclone Breaker!

A powerful vortex of wind burst into existence around Yagura, sucking in the mist and dispersing it in mere seconds.

The battlefield cleared instantly.

And what Yagura saw next made his eyes widen in shock.

"Minister Yagura," a soft yet chilling voice rang out across the lake. "I must thank you… for giving everyone the opportunity to witness such a ridiculous farce."

The tension in the air thickened.

The surrounding Mist Shinobi collectively sucked in a breath as they laid eyes upon the speaker.

Even the Suikazan Fuguki, standing at Yagura's side, instinctively took a step back.

Because the situation had completely changed.

Before, the battlefield had been structured like this:

• On the outermost perimeter, the Teru Yoruichi Clan and the Anbu had been maintaining a massive barrier to keep the Third Mizukage trapped inside.

• At the very center—on the island—stood the Third Mizukage himself, surrounded by nearly 100 of his loyal elites.

• And between them, Yagura's forces had been preparing to storm the island, confident in their numbers.

But now, in the space between Yagura's camp and the outer barrier, an entirely new force had appeared.

A massive battalion of Mist Shinobi.

At their head stood a white-haired young man—his presence both elegant and ominous.

His androgynous features were striking, his face possessing a beauty so sharp it was almost unsettling. His short, silver-white hair framed his delicate yet calculating eyes.

And at his side, three other figures stood—each wielding a different legendary blade.

Behind them, dozens of Mist Shinobi—many carrying the Ghost Lantern Clan's insignia—stood in formation, prepared for battle.

Even more unsettlingly, some of Yagura's own Anbu had joined their ranks.

Yagura's gaze darkened.

He knew this man.

He knew him very well.

"Ghost Lantern… Full Moon."

Yagura's voice was laced with anger as he spoke the name.

The young man merely smiled, his expression unreadable.

Ghost Lantern Full Moon—the prodigy of the Ghost Lantern Clan. A child of near-unparalleled talent, hailed as the greatest genius in Kirigakure's history.

And now, he stood before Yagura, ready to challenge him.

Yagura's mind raced.

During the Hidden Mist Jutsu, some of his own Anbu had disappeared—clearly defecting to Full Moon's side.

It was a costly exchange.

But in return, Yagura had gained the Suikazan FugukiPufferfish as an ally.

A defector for a defector.

A traitor for a traitor.

This battle had just taken a turn.

This wave…

Was a draw.

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