Naruto: Hatake's No Misfortune

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One sentence shattered their dreams and snapped them back to reality—the detonating tags around them had gone unnoticed until it was too late.

Hidden in the shadows of the camp, these explosive seals had been overlooked amid the chaos of battle. Now, their fates were sealed.

"No! Get out of here, now!"

Killer Bee (Kirabi) transformed into the Eight-Tails, the massive chakra beast spreading his protective form across the camp. But the tags had already started to detonate.

*BOOM!*

*BOOM!*

*BOOM!*

The relentless chain of explosions engulfed the entire camp, obliterating it in seconds. The powerful shockwaves reduced everything to rubble, and most of the Kumo shinobi were caught in the blast. Even the famed A-B Combination (A-B Kumiai) wasn't spared. Though Killer Bee's Tailed Beast transformation shielded them from the worst of the impact, the devastation was overwhelming.

The once thriving camp was reduced to a wasteland of charred earth. Bodies were reduced to ash, indistinguishable from the debris scattered around them.

No one stood where Bee's eyes fell. Even A, the future Fourth Raikage, was gravely injured—a gruesome scar stretched across his back as he coughed up blood from the force of the explosion.

Bee had managed to save A at the last possible moment. Without his intervention, the future Raikage would have perished in the blast.

Survivors were few. Only a handful of bodies stirred, and they were gravely wounded. Killer Bee hurried to their aid.

It was then that the surviving Kumo shinobi realized the grim truth—this was Konoha's plan all along.

Konoha had sacrificed their own forces, along with the camp, to decimate Kumogakure's forces.

The losses for Kumogakure were catastrophic. One-third of their forces had perished in the explosion.

From a safe distance, the Konoha forces watched as a massive mushroom cloud ascended into the sky, the flames lighting up the horizon.

The detonating tags had triggered a deadly chain reaction, amplifying the explosion's destructive power. The ground trembled beneath their feet as the shockwaves reached them.

Many Konoha shinobi looked on in shock, their minds unable to process what had just transpired.

"How could there be an explosion?"

"Wasn't this camp taken by the Kumo shinobi to steal our supplies? Didn't we already burn their provisions?"

"I don't understand, but we should counterattack now!"

Only the elite jōnin at the front understood the gravity of what had just occurred. Muzan's plan had succeeded.

Konoha had dealt a crippling blow to Kumogakure, and with this victory, the war's tide had turned. Yet, the cost remained unclear.

Aburame Koji stood at the front, his complexion pale. All of his insects had perished in the explosion, yet he felt no regret.

*Everything for Konoha.*

The sacrifices made today were necessary. Many lives had already been offered for this plan to succeed.

As the surviving Konoha shinobi began to show signs of relief, some preparing for a counterattack, Aburame Koji gave the final command:

"All Konoha forces, prepare to counterattack! This is our plan! The Kumo shinobi are gravely wounded—now is the time to strike!"

He did not elaborate on the plan, but the word "counterattack" was enough.

With weapons drawn, they surged forward. None of them wanted to return to Konoha in defeat, burdened with shame.

But when they arrived at the camp, what they saw made them freeze in place.

*Clang!*

A shinobi's weapon fell to the ground—a grave error on the battlefield, where weapons are one's lifeline.

Yet no one cared, for what lay before them was horrifying.

"What… what is this? What are these black things?"

"This... this looks like a human hand!"

"There's more over here!"

The scene was like a nightmare brought to life—a battlefield turned to hell. The high-intensity explosion had reduced the bodies of their enemies to mummified husks, burned beyond recognition.

One Konoha shinobi, who had spotted the charred remains of a hand, collapsed to the ground in shock.

The Kumo shinobi, who had so fiercely resisted them, had been annihilated in less than half an hour.

Even the jōnin, who had known about the plan, couldn't help but feel uneasy. There was no sign of life anywhere.

The plan had succeeded, relieving pressure on Konoha's front lines, but the brutality was unimaginable.

There wasn't a single intact corpse—only fragments of limbs, which almost felt like a mercy compared to the rest.

At that moment, a group of figures approached quickly.

The Konoha forces immediately assumed it was the Kumo shinobi and readied their weapons.

But when they saw Hatake Sakumo leading the group, they breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Under Sakumo's wise leadership, they had achieved an unprecedented victory with minimal losses and preserved their food supplies.

Little did they know, the mastermind behind it all was Muzan—the figure in the black robe.

Several elite jōnin stole glances at Muzan. He was no longer the boy they once knew—he had become the demon who buried the Kumo army.

"We have secured an unparalleled victory. Though we paid a heavy price, it was necessary."

The shinobi who had been kept in the dark now realized that everything had been orchestrated by Sakumo, who had deliberately lured the enemy into the trap.

No one questioned Sakumo's words. In war, victory without casualties was impossible, and securing such a triumph with minimal losses was irrefutable.

Even though their comrades had died, Kumogakure had suffered far worse.

Sakumo looked to Muzan, standing silently beside him, his expression unreadable. The plan had been ruthless—successful, but ruthless. Using comrades' lives as bait was an act few could stomach.

"I'll explain, Father."

Muzan's voice was calm, but his presence was like a shadow of death. His words, though soft, were clear to everyone present.

"This plan was mine. I proposed it, and I executed it."

"I was a part of it from the beginning."

A heavy silence fell over the group. Some shinobi shot hateful glares at Muzan, but he remained unmoved.

What surprised him, however, was how quickly that hatred faded, replaced by admiration.

They had all witnessed Muzan's battle with Motoi. As Sakumo's son and the architect of the plan, Muzan had taken the same risks as any of them. He had led the charge into the fray.

They could not hate him. Instead, they respected him.

Could any of them have achieved a victory like this, under such difficult circumstances?

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