Naruto: The Sand Will Rise!

Of course, there were still some rogue ninjas who refused to believe in the supernatural threat looming over them.

They continued to channel their chakra, determined to resist.

The result was horrific.

Bone spikes erupted from their bodies, jagged and twisted, piercing through flesh with sickening cracks. Vines of sinewy tendrils slithered out from within them, wrapping around their distorted frames like parasites consuming their hosts. The ninjas barely had time to scream before they were engulfed in their own mutated skeletons, crushed into grotesque, writhing orbs of flesh and bone.

It was as if a macabre garden had blossomed in the battlefield.

White bone flowers—beautiful yet terrifying—bloomed amidst the carnage, their delicate petals forming from the remains of the fallen. But beneath their eerie elegance, twisted flesh and shattered remains lay in a nightmarish tangle of gore.

The battlefield had turned into a grotesque artwork of death.

As the bone flowers withered, they disintegrated into a fine white powder that drifted through the air. The scent was faint, almost floral, masking the horror beneath it. Yet within that dust, unseen to the naked eye, was the essence of the absorbed chakra, drawn back into Kimimaro's body like a cycle of never-ending consumption.

A heavy silence settled over the surviving ninjas. Fear gripped them, paralyzing their will to fight.

Mufasa exhaled, watching the scene with a mix of awe and grim satisfaction.

"Kimimaro's Stand ability is something else," he muttered. "If he keeps absorbing energy at this rate, his reach might one day spread over the entire ninja world."

Thankfully, Kimimaro was on their side.

As the last remnants of defiant mercenaries were consumed by the bone flowers, the remaining ninjas finally understood—they were powerless. Panic spread like wildfire.

"What kind of jutsu is this?"

"This isn't normal—this is a curse!"

They had seen death in many forms, but being impaled by their own bones was beyond anything they could have imagined.

Desperation overtook them.

The surviving ninjas, broken in both spirit and body, dropped their weapons.

Mufasa swept his gaze over them. "Enough."

"Take the remaining ninjas captive. Let the others go."

Sasori, standing nearby, added with a cold smirk, "Some of you were sent here by Momonosuke. Step forward now, and we'll spare your lives."

His voice carried an undeniable threat. "You only get one chance. After I count to ten, anyone still trying to hide will be executed as a traitor."

Under the oppressive weight of both the bone-flower massacre and Sasori's mechanical menace, no one dared to test their luck. Within seconds, every ninja aligned with Momonosuke surrendered.

One of their objectives was to secure prisoners, and with this group captured, they wouldn't need to rely on Kabuto's more… experimental methods of extracting information.

Mufasa had no interest in a war of attrition. He wasn't about to waste resources on brainwashing every captured ninja. Some battles weren't worth the cost.

"Not worth it," he murmured to himself. "Momonosuke and his pawns… they're not worth this much effort."

With the remaining hired ninjas in shackles, the once-crowded battlefield emptied as civilians scattered, eager to distance themselves from the bloodshed.

But not all of them left.

Yoruya, overseeing the dispersal, noticed a group lingering. He reported to Mufasa, his expression puzzled.

"Sir, some of them aren't leaving."

Mufasa raised a brow. "Why not? Do they want to die with Momonosuke?"

Yoruya shook his head. "No, sir. It's something else. They… they have a personal vendetta against him."

Mufasa's curiosity piqued. "Explain."

Yoruya hesitated before elaborating. "Momonosuke's forces burned their homes. Destroyed their villages. These people have nothing left to return to."

Mufasa sighed. "Figures."

His gaze hardened. "Momonosuke is filth."

Yoruya nodded. "So, what should we do with them? There are more than four hundred in total."

Mufasa considered for a moment. "Ask them if they have any surviving relatives. Give them some money for travel and let them go."

War had its costs. Innocent people always suffered. This small gesture wouldn't fix what they had lost, but at least it was something.

Once arrangements were made, a little over thirty people remained, with nowhere to go.

Mufasa turned to Yoruya. "Your team will handle them for now."

Yoruya blinked. "Huh?"

Mufasa smiled faintly. "Your unit is responsible for urban management, right? Who better to assist displaced civilians?"

Yoruya muttered, "Why do I feel like we're just the clean-up crew?"

"Because you are," Mufasa said, patting his shoulder. "And because we're going to have a lot of prisoners soon. They can cook, clean, and help maintain order."

Yoruya sighed, resigning himself. "Fine. I'll make sure they're put to work."

The situation was settled—for now.

The convoy resumed its journey the following day, continuing toward their next destination.

Meanwhile, far away, Kurozumi sat in stunned silence as reports of Mufasa's victory reached him. He had been so sure that his carefully laid traffic blockade would delay them, possibly even cripple their advance.

Instead, Mufasa had turned the whole situation into an advantage.

Kurozumi rubbed his temples, his frustration growing. He turned to his intelligence officers. "Are you absolutely certain about this? That the ninjas just… turned into bones?"

The scout ninja hesitated before answering, "I verified it with multiple sources. The ninjas hidden in the crowd at that time were completely turned into skeletal remains before crumbling into dust."

Kurozumi stared at him, struggling to process the sheer absurdity of it.

He turned to Monk Yorushi. "Have you ever heard of such a poison before?"

The old monk, along with several high-ranking jounin, exchanged uneasy glances.

"No," Yorushi admitted. "Nothing like this should exist."

The very idea that a technique could target only ninjas was terrifying. It defied logic, reason, and all known medical or jutsu-based sciences.

After countless discussions, no one could figure out what kind of poison had been used.

Master Yorushi scowled, his voice filled with contempt.

"Hmph, I never expected the Kazekage to be so ruthless. Developing such a monstrous poison... he's nothing but a disgrace to all shinobi."

"Yes! A disgrace!"

"He must be eliminated!"

The council members echoed his words, condemning Mufasa's cruelty and underhanded tactics.

"Lord Kurozumi," Yorushi continued, "since the enemy possesses such a terrible weapon, we shouldn't waste our forces recklessly."

Yorushi's apprentice, Mokutan, nodded in agreement. "We should keep our forces together. If we stay united, he won't dare use that poison again."

Kurozumi considered their words and nodded. "A sound strategy. Besides, our levee has already been reinforced. Once they arrive, we'll flood them out."

"Good. Then that's our plan," Yorushi affirmed.

With no civilians caught in the crossfire and fewer enemy ambushes, the Sand Village's repair teams pressed forward, ensuring their roads were intact for future movement.

Meanwhile, Mufasa sat in his command tent, eyes locked on the screen before him. His unmanned surveillance drones relayed a live feed of the enemy's dam—a key part of Kurozumi's strategy. Behind the levee, a dense woodland concealed makeshift camps. The defenses were well-hidden, but not well enough.

He smirked. "They're ready for us."

The Sand Village's forces advanced another forty miles. At that range, Kurozumi's ninjas were preparing a devastating counterattack. They would unleash Water Release techniques like Water Dragon Bullet, combining them with the dam's collapse to create an overwhelming flood.

Mufasa turned to Kabuto. "Are your units ready?"

Kabuto adjusted his glasses and nodded. "Everything is in place."

"Good. Once the road is fully repaired, we move."

As the final repairs were completed, the Sand Village's battle teams advanced toward the rendezvous point. The decisive moment drew near.

Mikazuki stood at the confluence of two major rivers, awaiting their approach. The moment Mufasa's army crossed into their trap, the levee would be breached. Thousands of ninjas were stationed to amplify the flood with Water Release techniques, ensuring nothing survived.

The operation was led by Hozuki Mikazuki of the Hidden Mist Village. A mercenary paid handsomely by the Land of Fire's daimyo, his true objective was to infiltrate the enemy ranks using the Hozuki Clan's Hydration Technique and assassinate Mufasa amidst the chaos.

A scout ninja reported in. "Lord Mikazuki, the Sand ninjas are still advancing. They should reach the target zone by nightfall."

Mikazuki grinned. "Perfect. Have everyone eat and rest. We strike at sundown."

As night approached, the situation remained unchanged. The Sand Village forces advanced methodically, repairing roads as they went. With every passing hour, the tension thickened.

Then—nothing.

The Sand Village forces should have arrived, yet the battlefield was eerily quiet.

Mikazuki's grin faded. "What's going on? Why haven't they arrived?"

A scout was dispatched to investigate, but the answer was already clear.

The Sand Village's forces had never intended to march into the trap.

Instead, they attacked from the air.

Sasori's Gundams took the lead, soaring above the battlefield. Behind them, rocket-propelled flying ninjas and prosthetically enhanced shinobis followed, descending like a storm. And at the center of it all was Mufasa himself.

Over two hundred airborne combatants rained down upon Kurozumi's forces.

Mikazuki stared in shock as a towering, metallic war machine descended from the sky. "Impossible...! How did they find us?!"

His plan had been airtight. No spies, no leaks—every nearby civilian had been driven away. And yet, somehow, they knew.

He had underestimated the reach of Kabuto's intelligence network.

Mufasa and his forces landed directly atop the dam.

"Blow it up! Now!" Mikazuki roared, desperation creeping into his voice.

Even if the timing wasn't ideal, flooding the battlefield would still deal significant damage.

His men moved swiftly, activating the explosives.

Nothing happened.

Panic set in. Mikazuki sprinted up the embankment, searching for answers. "What's wrong?! Why haven't you blown it yet?!"

A nervous subordinate stammered, "M-My lord! All the fuses have been cut!"

"What?!" Mikazukii's mind reeled. Someone had sabotaged them.

He clenched his fists. No time to waste. He would detonate them manually.

Just as he reached for the detonator, a bolt of lightning split the sky, striking inches from where he stood. He barely dodged in time.

Mufasa landed before him, eyes gleaming. "You're playing a dangerous game, Mikazuki."

His gaze shifted to the cache of explosives. "Heh… ruthless. If this had gone off, everything within a hundred miles would've been underwater."

Mikazuki snarled. "Damn you!"

His troops scrambled, but it was too late. Sasori's Gundams and rocket ninjas had already surrounded the mercenary forces of the Land of River.

Mufasa's voice rang out. "You're completely surrounded. Surrender now, or face the consequences."