70: The coronation of the new king and Konoha's importance

At the top of the command tower of Ci Hua Fortress, the wind had stopped.

Iwa-ma’s life, along with all his glory and stubbornness as an Earth Release master, was frozen into a greyish-white stone statue with an expression of extreme terror.

The first ray of dawn light happened to shine on his face, filled with horror and incomprehension, gilding this “masterpiece” with a golden edge.

The living were more despairing than the dead.

The remaining Leaf Ninja inside the fortress watched helplessly as the symbol of invincibility in their hearts turned into a cold work of art.

Something invisible completely collapsed in their hearts.

“Mon-monster…” A Konoha Chunin squeezed out a dry roar from his throat, the fear of shattered faith overwhelming everything. He turned to jump off the fortress and escape.

He hadn't even had time to leap out.

A dark shadow glided silently past, the moonlight reflecting a cold arc on the alloy blade wings.

Pfft.

A head flew up, and warm blood mist burst open in the cold air.

The puppet Owl · Stealth didn't even pause; with a flap of its wings, it re-merged into the deeper shadows, beginning to hunt down the next straggler attempting to transmit intelligence.

The inner courtyard of the fortress was completely transformed into a one-sided slaughterhouse.

The six arms of the puppet Shura Kai rotated at high speed, the mechanisms at the ends of its arms continuously opening and closing.

That wasn't the roar of battle, but a high-frequency hum that set one's teeth on edge.

Countless poisoned arrows spewed from the “Lotus Crossbow” on its chest, covering all possible escape routes.

Immediately after, twenty-seven silver needles, with pear blossoms carved on their tails, whistled out from the “Rainstorm Pear Blossom Needle” magazine hidden in its arms, precisely piercing the throats of several Jonin attempting to form hand seals to resist.

Those struck by the needles fell down clutching their necks before they could even scream, a strange purple color rapidly appearing on their faces.

Flesh and blood were fragile and vulnerable before the Tang Clan's precision killing machines.

The battle, in fact, had already ended the moment Iwa-ma fell.

Tang Yan stood on the edge of the fortress, looking down at everything below, his expression unchanged.

Qian stood beside him, watching those once arrogant Leaf Ninja become like lambs to the slaughter before a few puppets. A strong sense of unreality surged into her heart. She subconsciously raised her hand to form a hand seal, and Wind Release Chakra gathered in her palm.

“Wind Release: Sickle Weasel!”

A violent gust of wind was whipped up by the iron fan in her hand, transforming into invisible wind blades that completely covered an area. Where the wind blades passed, several Leaf Ninja hiding behind cover were instantly shredded.

After doing all this, the vexation in her chest did not dissipate. This was merely to prove that she was not an insignificant bystander.

Zi Luo, on the other hand, seemed a bit idle. He scratched his head, his gaze falling on the puppet Morra - Thousand Unbinding.

That puppet was moving across the battlefield with a nearly ruthless precision. Yellow sand spread out from beneath its feet, like living tentacles, precisely wrapping around each corpse, stripping off their Ninja tool pouches from their waists and scrolls from their chests, then stacking the spoils of war neatly by category.

The entire process was smooth and efficient, without any wasted movements.

Watching this scene, Zi Luo couldn't help but rub his arms. “This guy is even better at accounting than a casino boss; he won't even let a single kunai go. Tang Yan, is your puppet obsessed with money?”

Duanfeng Pass Command Center.

When the purple signal fireworks representing victory exploded over Ci Hua Fortress, Sato and the Sand Ninja officers were all petrified.

There was a deathly silence in the command center, with only the faint sound of fine sand flowing in the hourglass.

How long did it take from the start of the battle until the signal went up?

Ten minutes? Or fifteen minutes?

Sato’s binoculars were still firmly aimed in that direction.

He had envisioned countless possibilities: fierce battle, pyrrhic victory, or even Tang Yan's failure, where he would lead people to clean up the mess. He had never imagined this one.

Fast. So fast it was absurd, so fast it overturned his decades of war knowledge.

His gaze passed through the curling smoke and finally settled on the stone statue at the top of Ci Hua Fortress.

Clatter.

The binoculars slipped from Sato's hand and fell to the ground.

His Adam's apple bobbed, his lips moved, and finally, it transformed into a dreamlike murmur.

“He’s not fighting a war…”

A young officer subconsciously asked, “Then what is he doing?”

Sato slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over faces equally filled with shock, his voice dry and hoarse.

“He is telling us… the face of war needs to change.”

When Tang Yan and his group returned to Duanfeng Pass, they were met with a deathly silence.

Thousands of Sand Ninja stood densely packed throughout the pass, no one making any sound.

They didn't even dare to breathe loudly, merely watching the young man walking slowly towards them with eyes mixed with awe, fear, and even fanaticism.

He carried a huge scroll on his back, with the character “Tang” written in bold ink on it.

Zi Luo followed behind, feeling uncomfortable with the whole scene. He whispered to Qian, “It’s like a funeral, but the main character isn’t dead yet.”

Qian ignored him. Her gaze fell on the faces of the Sand Ninja, seeing the same shock and incomprehension she had felt earlier.

Tang Yan ignored everyone and walked straight to the main command seat of the pass.

Sato stood beside the main seat, his hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides, knuckles white from the effort.

He could feel the weight of thousands of gazes behind him, and even more, the invisible pressure emanating from the young man in front of him.

Tang Yan stopped in front of him and gently placed a scroll, seized from Ci Hua Fortress, onto the table.

Thump.

The action was light, but the sound was clearly audible in the silent pass, like a heavy hammer striking everyone's heart.

The scroll still carried a faint scent of gunpowder and blood, the aura of Konoha's top-secret information.

Sato's body trembled abruptly, and he almost instinctively took a step back, bumping into the railing behind him.

Then, under the gaze of thousands of his colleagues, the former supreme commander of Duanfeng Pass, with all his might, bowed deeply, his head almost touching his chest.

“From today forward, all Ninja of Duanfeng Pass shall obey the command of Lord Tang Yan!”

His voice was hoarse, yet it carried a resolve that severed the past.

Tang Yan did not look at him, nor did he say another word, as if this was only natural.

He turned and looked towards the medical tent in the corner of the camp.

He slapped the scroll behind him with one hand.

The small figure of Apothecary - Diligence appeared before everyone. Its emerald green eyes were nimble and profound.

Tang Yan's fingers moved slightly, and Chakra threads connected to Apothecary - Diligence.

“Go, heal them.”

Apothecary - Diligence took steps and entered the tent, which was filled with severely wounded individuals and perpetually permeated with the smell of blood and despair.

An older medical Ninja subconsciously tried to stop it: “Emergency treatment is ongoing inside; a puppet entering would only…”

He couldn't finish his sentence.

Half an hour later.

The tent flap was lifted, and a Sand Chunin, whose right leg had been blown off and should have been amputated, walked out step by step, supported by his comrades.

His new leg, though still very weak, was perfectly intact.

He looked in Tang Yan's direction, his lips trembling, and finally fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

The entire Duanfeng Pass erupted.

One after another, severely wounded individuals who had been deemed certain to die or be permanently crippled walked out of the tent, perfectly intact, and knelt towards Tang Yan.

Those medical Ninja rushed into the tent and witnessed the incredible scene with their own eyes.

Chakra threads as fine as hair, carrying a soft green light, moved through the injured bodies as if alive.

They precisely sutured ruptured blood vessels, guided cell regeneration, reconnected shattered bones, and even repaired damaged meridians.

That was the miraculous “Chakra Surgical Thread.”

Prestige is established under absolute power.

Hearts are gathered through the grace of bringing the dead back to life.

On this day, in Duanfeng Pass, a new king was crowned.

Konoha Village, Hokage's Office.

The atmosphere was so oppressive it was suffocating.

“Ci Hua Fortress has fallen, Jonin Iwa-ma is dead in battle, and almost no one survived.”

Hiruzen Sarutobi exhaled a thick puff of smoke, his voice tinged with deep weariness.

The intelligence scroll was spread out on the table, with a sealed sample placed beside it.

It was a small piece of “skin” brought back by an Anbu squad at the cost of their lives, from Iwa-ma’s petrified body.

For this piece, only one person from that squad returned alive, with only one eye.

Greyish-white, with the texture of rock, yet retaining the patterns of skin.

Jiraiya's expression was extremely grave. He picked up the sample and examined it carefully.

“This power is unheard of. It’s not merely Earth Release; it directly changes the fundamental form of matter, a conversion at the rule level, forcibly transforming living organisms into inorganic matter.”

“A Bloodline Limit?” Hiruzen Sarutobi’s brows furrowed into a deep frown. “When did Sunagakure acquire such a terrifying Ninja?”

“The report says his name is Tang Yan,” Jiraiya put down the sample. “He’s very young and skilled in an unprecedented puppet jutsu. Furthermore, intelligence indicates that he was also the captain of the Sand Ninja squad that previously annihilated the Rouran garrison and investigated the disappearance of the Third Kazekage.”

“It’s him again…” Hiruzen Sarutobi’s gaze became incredibly complex.

At the front-line command post of the Konoha and Land of Wind general battlefield, a figure leaned against the wall, having remained silent the entire time.

Orochimaru's narrow, golden vertical pupils were fixed on the greyish-white sample on the table, his eyes gleaming with a morbid, almost obsessive fervor.

Life? Chakra? Eternity?

These words collided rapidly in his mind, intertwining into a symphony that made him tremble.

He extended his long tongue, slowly licking his pale lips, and let out a hoarse, excited whisper.

“How interesting…”

“To seal life and Chakra in eternal ‘rock’ energy? Hehehehe…”

“Isn’t this just another form of… immortality?”

His gaze penetrated the office walls, as if he saw that figure in the distant Land of Wind.

“Tang Yan of Sunagakure…”

“I must… obtain his secret! But his growth rate is too fast.”

“I need to hurry.”