Naruto: End of the Shinobi World

Just then, an ANBU operative appeared in the center of the office, dropping to one knee and holding a scroll in both hands.

”Lady Fifth! Lord Jiraiya!” The ANBU’s voice carried a barely concealed urgency. ”We’ve found a lead on the Devil Fruit’s location!”

”What?!” Tsunade shot up from her chair, her eyes blazing with excitement.

Without a second thought, she stepped over the desk and snatched the scroll from the ANBU’s hands.

Jiraiya, startled out of his daze, lifted his head as well. The confusion and anguish on his face were forcibly suppressed, replaced by the instinctive alertness of a top-tier shinobi.

Tsunade unfurled the scroll at astonishing speed, her eyes scanning the dense lines of text, coded symbols, and rough maps.

Her brows first knitted tightly—then suddenly relaxed, sharp light flashing in her eyes.

”Found it!” Tsunade inhaled deeply and snapped the scroll shut. ”At the border of the Land of Fire, deep within a primeval forest known as the ’Lost Forest.’”

”However—” her tone shifted, and her expression darkened, ”the information leaked. Recon teams from other nations are moving toward the area almost simultaneously.”

”So fast?!” Jiraiya’s heart sank.

The allure of the Devil Fruit was terrifying—enough to drive any power mad.

”We can’t wait any longer!” Tsunade decided at once, the commanding presence of the Fifth Hokage and one of the Legendary Sannin surging from her. ”Jiraiya, prepare to move!”

”That thing… is far too dangerous. It must not fall into the hands of those with ulterior motives. It must be… properly secured by Konoha.”

She emphasized the words ”properly secured” with absolute finality.

Jiraiya understood her meaning instantly—and the gravity of the situation.

No matter how tangled and painful his thoughts about peace, power, and the responsibility of Great Nations were, one reality was immediate and undeniable:

The Devil Fruit was an unknown variable capable of shattering the balance of the shinobi world and triggering a new catastrophe.

As a shinobi of Konoha—and as the Hokage’s comrade—he had to act.

Right now, he was Jiraiya of Konoha.

”I understand,” he replied in a low voice, the exhaustion on his face swiftly replaced by solemn determination.

Tsunade felt a flicker of approval. At least he wouldn’t falter at a critical moment.

”Gather personnel immediately. ANBU will dispatch two elite squads to accompany us. Notify Shikaku. Kakashi and Guy will remain in the village to oversee all affairs. We depart in one hour.”

Orders were issued with crisp efficiency. The Hokage’s office—and the vast shinobi apparatus of Konoha behind it—roared into motion.

The ANBU vanished with the command. Messengers sprinted out.

Tsunade and Jiraiya exchanged a look. In each other’s eyes, they saw gravity—and resolve.

As for what ”properly securing” the Devil Fruit truly meant?

Naturally, it meant bringing it back to Konoha—where it would be controlled, researched, sealed away, or… if necessary, used by Konoha’s shinobi.

That was the most direct and realistic choice in a strategic struggle over powerful resources.

An hour later, dozens of figures shot from Konoha’s gates like arrows loosed from a bowstring.

At the front were the Fifth Hokage, Tsunade—and one of the Legendary Sannin, Jiraiya.

Deep Within the Lost Forest

This was no longer a tranquil primeval woodland.

Near the entrance of a cave, the area had become a veritable slaughterhouse.

Headbands from multiple nations lay scattered together. Rogue ninja had gathered. Even wandering samurai—rarely involved in such matters—had joined the fray.

Everyone was locked in frenzied combat.

Kunai and shuriken flashed. Ninjutsu lit up the forest with violent brilliance. Screams, roars, and explosions overlapped in a chaotic symphony.

No one could approach the pitch-black cave entrance with ease. Anyone who tried would instantly become the focus of a dozen—or dozens—of attacks, reduced to shredded flesh in moments.

”Five-Style Combo Technique!”

Suddenly, an aged yet powerful voice thundered across the battlefield, overpowering the cacophony with commanding authority.

The next instant, five enormous fireballs—each brimming with violent Fire Release chakra—howled forward in a fan-shaped formation and slammed into the most densely packed and fiercely contested area!

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

A series of earth-shaking explosions!

The shinobi, rogue ninja, and samurai battling there—regardless of faction—barely had time to scream before they were erased in the indiscriminate devastation, leaving behind a vast, smoking crater scorched black at its center.

Only a handful at the edges—those quick enough or fortunate enough to avoid a direct hit—remained standing. Even they were wounded, covered in soot, their eyes filled with naked terror.

The survivors looked toward the source of the attack in shock.

From the shadows of the forest emerged a group of dozens, clad in Konoha’s standard green flak jackets and combat attire.

At their center stood an elderly man in dark battle robes, a staff in hand, walking forward with steady steps.

”T-Third Hokage?!” someone cried out, voice breaking in fear.

”Hiruzen Sarutobi! It’s Konoha’s Third Hokage!”

”Damn it! Konoha shows up this late—and immediately strikes this ruthlessly?!”

”They even sent a former Hokage to lead—and launched a sneak attack?! Shameless!”

The survivors muttered in shock and anger.

Konoha’s move was brutal—an indiscriminate clearing of the battlefield, a blatant show of dominance.

But what could they do?

After all, Hiruzen Sarutobi’s strength was unquestionable.

And their own Kage were still on their way.

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