Onoki's knees buckled.
His legs, once bolstered by years of chakra control, gave way like paper beneath the crushing weight of reality.
THUD.
The proud Tsuchikage dropped to the ground, landing hard on his backside.
Dust scattered.
His wrinkled hands clawed into the cracked earth as his old bones trembled—not from age this time, but from something far deeper.
He tilted his head upward slowly…Radahn still stood over him.
Unmoving. Unflinching. Unshakable.
That golden stare burned through his soul.
Onoki's face twisted in panic, sweat dripping down his bald scalp. His mouth fumbled for words.
"M-M-Minato!" he cried out, voice cracking with raw desperation.
"D-Do you really want to face the wr—"
"Tsuchikage-sama, please stop."
Minato's voice was calm. But behind it was finality. Cold, sharp, and absolute.
The battlefield went quiet.
Even Radahn didn't move.
He didn't need to.
Minato took a few steps forward.
He looked down at the fallen Kage—not with anger, but with something worse: pity.
"Let's not pretend anymore-" Minato said firmly.
"We both know that threat is no longer possible."
Onoki's lips quivered.
"The Land of Iron has already pledged alliance with Konoha-" Minato continued, eyes unwavering."
And the Land of Lightning…"He let that sentence hang—like a sword above the old man's head."…has no leader anymore. The Raikage is gone, and his forces are ashes on this soil. That country will not continue this war."
Onoki gritted his teeth—but still could not rise.
His chakra was still missing, as if Radahn's presence itself devoured it.
Minato exhaled once, quietly, then said the words like a final judgment:
"I don't even know what other reinforcements you think are coming…""But let's be honest with each other—you lost."
The wind howled softly through the barren plain—where once a great forest stood.
Only a cratered battlefield remained.
Hundreds of corpses buried in silence.
Only three remained standing.
Yugito's jaw clenched tight, still staring at Onoki from behind—disgusted.
'That's what he gambled on? Bluffing after everything we've seen?'
Matatabi inside her hissed with disdain.
"That old fool… Trying to use politics in front of death. This is what happens."
Onoki, still on the ground, turned his head toward Radahn again…
The golden eyes stared back.
Waiting.
Onoki's mouth quivered.
His breath came in short, shallow bursts.
The pressure hadn't lifted—Radahn's presence still loomed, oppressive as gravity itself.
And in that silence, the last shard of his pride shattered.
He forced the words out.
"T-Then I… W-we surrender!"
His voice cracked with desperation, echoing across the barren field.
Radahn didn't react.
He simply stood still—like a mountain forged by gods.
Onoki's wrinkled hands trembled as he raised them slowly.
"I-it's over… Surely, Konoha will not kill surrendered troops… right?"
His voice turned shrill, pleading.
"T-that's a war crime!"
Behind him, Yugito's eye twitched.
She couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"This old fool…"Matatabi's growl echoed in her head, full of disbelief and scorn.
"He's trying to take you down with him too."
Yugito gritted her teeth, fists clenched.'
Does he think if he clutches the flag of surrender, we'll all be spared?'
She took a step back from Onoki instinctively—not wanting to be anywhere near him if Radahn's judgment came crashing down.
Minato, still standing at Radahn's side, narrowed his eyes.
He didn't speak yet—waiting to see if Radahn would answer.
But Radahn… didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just stared down at the old Tsuchikage with an unreadable expression.
Seconds passed like centuries.
Onoki's arms were still raised…Still trembling…Still hoping.
But the silence only made his shame grow louder.
'This is the same man who once stood before Madara…Now reduced to begging, trembling before something beyond shinobi comprehension.'
----------------------------------------------------------------
The wind whispered over the desolate battlefield, lifting dry soil and flecks of scorched ash into the air like the ghosts of the fallen. The ground, once carved with hundreds of shinobi footprints and lined with vibrant life, was now flattened into a vast, barren emptiness.
At its center stood three figures—Minato Namikaze, Yugito Nii, and the proud, now pitiful, old man that once ruled Iwagakure's forces with an iron will: Onoki, the Tsuchikage.
Onoki sat slumped on the dirt, legs folded beneath him like a discarded doll. His robes were torn, his back hunched, and his body trembled—not from pain, but from the silent judgment standing above him.
Radahn hadn't moved. The colossal warrior was still, arms at his sides, like a statue carved from cosmic rage and stone. His crimson mane swayed gently in the breeze. He hadn't spoken a word since delivering Onoki to his feet like a prisoner dropped at the feet of a ruler.
Minato had just watched it happen—
One moment, Onoki had been standing hundreds of meters away, still barking politics.
The next, he was here. Small. Cornered.
And when Onoki dared mutter, "Surely, Konoha would not kill surrendered troops. That would be… a war crime-" something inside Minato snapped.
The gentleness was gone.
The light in his eyes—the warmth that made him beloved by villagers and shinobi alike—had cooled to steel.
His jaw clenched. His fists curled.
And then he took one step forward, the faint hum of chakra thrumming through his boots.
"Hah? War crime?"
The words slipped out like venom from a blade's edge.
Onoki looked up slowly.
Yugito instinctively stepped back. Even Matatabi inside her tensed, a low, unreadable growl echoing in her mind.
Minato's face didn't hold rage. Not exactly.
No—it held betrayal.
"Where were your ethics…" he began, slowly, deliberately, his voice cutting through the silence, "...when your forces surrounded our field outpost under the cover of night?"
His words pierced the heavy air.
"You dropped boulders on med-tents. You set fire to escape routes. You butchered messengers who carried white flags. Did you stop to ask who surrendered then?"
Onoki winced. His lips parted—but Minato didn't let him speak.
"You came at us full force—your entire division—against a squad barely holding the front. Genin. Chūnin. Young ones barely past the Academy."
Minato's hand trembled—not out of weakness, but from restraint. His voice cracked slightly as he continued.
"They screamed. They cried. Some begged to be taken as prisoners. I know. I found their bodies myself."
Radahn remained motionless. But even he, for a brief moment, seemed to shift his gaze toward Minato—acknowledging the cold sorrow threading through his voice.
"And now, here you are-" Minato said, his eyes narrowing, "...surrounded by the ashes of your pride, staring at the man who turned your entire army into vapor—and you dare to lecture us about justice?"
His chakra pulsed.
Yugito felt her knees lock in place. Even though he wasn't directing it at her, Minato's fury had a sharpness to it—like a blade dancing around the truth no one else wanted to speak.
"You were the one who broke the treaty line. You were the one who gave the order to attack our scouts."
Minato's voice dropped to a near whisper now. Not out of weakness—but like a knife being pressed in slowly.
"Do you… even know how absurd you sound right now, Tsuchikage-sama?"
Onoki didn't answer.
He couldn't.
His pride, cracked and bleeding, warred with the truth digging into his chest.
His throat worked as he tried to swallow something that wouldn't go down—his last lie, maybe. Or maybe just the taste of defeat.
His jaw trembled. His wrinkled hands pressed to the dirt beneath him. But he couldn't lift his head. Couldn't meet Minato's eyes.
Not when every word rang with such terrible, undeniable truth.
Minato exhaled through his nose, grounding himself. He didn't want to lose control. He couldn't afford to—not here.
Not in front of the man who had just obliterated nearly four hundred soldiers like sweeping leaves from a path.
Not in front of Yugito, whose presence was still a wildcard.
Not in front of the battlefield that now bore witness to the end of Iwagakure's ambition.
He glanced toward Radahn, then looked back down at Onoki.
"You're lucky-" Minato said, softer now, but without mercy. "That he"—he gestured subtly toward the red giant—"hasn't decided you were worth finishing."
Then he added, with finality:
"But don't come to me… or to Konoha… wearing the robes of a murderer, and try to wrap yourself in the language of justice."
Onoki's shoulders slumped.
His head hung low.
He didn't respond.
Because there was nothing left to say.