Sakura Haruno is Usefull

Kurotsuchi hovered midair above Kusagakure, holding Sakura in her arms, her gaze fixed on the Kusagakure shinobi clashing with the Konoha forces below. Sakura scanned the battlefield, searching for the right moment to join the fray.

Kurotsuchi, meanwhile, held Sakura with an expression of utter resignation.

She had never flown carrying someone before, and the extra chakra consumption compared to usual was undeniable. Kurotsuchi couldn't help but consider the need to conserve her chakra moving forward.

The pink strands of Sakura's hair fluttered in the night wind, tickling Kurotsuchi's face. Annoyed, she shook her head, her pale nose catching a faint, sweet fragrance from the cherry-blossom-colored strands.

"You actually smell pretty nice," Kurotsuchi blurted out involuntarily.

Sakura turned her head, her emerald-green eyes as emotionless as a still pond, staring at the suspect pervert.

"W-w-wait, I-I-I didn't mean it like that!"

Kurotsuchi's face flushed a deep red as she scrambled to explain, flustered and desperate to prove her disinterest in such things.

"Drop me there," Sakura interrupted, pointing to a spot below where a group of five or six Kusagakure shinobi had surrounded a Konoha ninja.

"Fine, fine! Here you go!"

Relieved to be free of the awkward situation, Kurotsuchi unceremoniously hurled Sakura downward like a hot potato.

As she plummeted toward the ground, Sakura swiftly donned the pair of brass knuckles Sasuke had recently given her. Clenching her fists tightly, she gathered chakra into her hands.

With her chakra condensed, the knuckles, crafted from chakra metal, erupted in tangible flames of chakra shaped like a beast's head.

A tiger! The flames gradually took on the appearance of a fierce tiger.

Sakura glanced at the tiger-shaped chakra surrounding her fists, her mind full of dry sarcasm.

Alright, fine. To the Ninneko clan, tigers probably count as cats too.

Shaking off the thought, Sakura focused. The moment she landed, she grabbed the surrounded Konoha shinobi with one hand and struck the ground with a devastating punch, accompanied by a roar that resembled a tiger's growl.

Debris flew, the earth cracked, buildings collapsed, and a cloud of dust enveloped the area. It was as if a small earthquake had struck the battlefield!

The Konoha shinobi rushing to reinforce their comrade froze mid-step, stunned by the sheer destructive power of the pink-haired kunoichi.

Above, Kurotsuchi broke into a cold sweat as she witnessed the destruction Sakura had unleashed with a single punch.

Note to self: Never, ever make her angry. My tiny frame wouldn't survive even one of her punches.

"Th-thank you," stammered the Konoha ninja Sakura had just saved, cold sweat dripping as he expressed his gratitude.

The surrounding Kusagakure shinobi, caught in the blast, had already gone to meet the Sage of Six Paths.

Exchanging a brief farewell, Sakura dashed toward the next skirmish without pause.

Wherever she passed, not a blade of grass was left standing. Any Kusagakure shinobi who crossed her path was sent flying with a single punch. Her relentless combat style caught the attention of many.

Her fighting mannerisms bore a striking resemblance to those of the legendary Tsunade, the princess of Konoha.

Minute by minute, the resistance of Kusagakure's forces weakened. Within less than two hours of the assault, Konoha's forces had seized control of nearly 70% of the village's territory.

The Kusagakure leader, watching his shinobi retreat step by step under the relentless pressure of the Konoha forces, breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling.

"Leader, we must go," urged his attendant, his face clouded with despair.

Konoha's surprise attack on Kusagakure had caught them all off guard.

With no time to rally their forces, there was no way to mount an effective defense against Konoha's advance.

If it had been a head-on battle, they might have stood a chance. But as it stood, Kusagakure's shinobi were scattered, forced to fight individually, leaving them easy prey for Konoha's systematically coordinated strikes.

Even attempts to organize small units of resistance were swiftly crushed.

The Kusagakure leader clenched his broad knuckles, the sound of grinding bones echoing.

After a long, heavy sigh, he finally spoke.

"Take our remaining forces and go."

"Head to Hozuki Castle and seek out Mujō."

His voice carried no trace of hope for survival.

Perhaps the leader of Kusagakure had already resolved to perish with his village.

"Leader!"

The attendant tried to protest.

"Go!"

The man's words were firm, brooking no argument.

The attendant stared at him, tears welling in his eyes. With a deep sigh, he turned and left without looking back.

"Konoha…"

The leader muttered bitterly as the flames of war drew closer to the Kusagakure administration building.

Just then, an elderly figure descended from the sky, arms crossed, hovering outside the building.

The leader stood frozen, separated from the old man by only a window. Their gazes met.

Behind the elder was the boundless darkness of the night, filled with the chaos of battle.

Behind the leader were bright lights and a desk cluttered with papers.

The window seemed to divide two entirely different worlds.

The leader's pupils trembled as he looked at the old man, despair washing over him.

Total despair.

The Land of Grass, caught between the Land of Fire and the Land of Earth, had always survived precariously.

The arrival of Tsuchikage Ōnoki here could mean only one thing, and the leader understood it all too well.

He had planned to send the remaining Kusagakure forces to the Land of Earth after his death, hoping to gain the Tsuchikage's protection and someday reclaim Kusagakure.

But now…

Kusagakure was finished.

"Tsuchikage…"

The leader licked his parched lips as he addressed the elder.

"Can you tell me…"

"Why?"

Ōnoki regarded the man coldly, wasting no words. Raising one hand, he unleashed his technique.

"Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique."

That was his answer.

The weak had their own rules for survival.

But against the tide of history, they could only be crushed.

To Ōnoki, the Fire-Earth Alliance was inevitable, with no room for error. The existence of Kusagakure, caught between the two great nations, was itself an error.

And all he was doing now was correcting that error.

A blinding white light engulfed the Kusagakure administration building, reducing it to nothingness.

The leader, staring at Ōnoki hovering in the night sky, laughed hysterically.

"Ha… ha… ha!"

"Ha… ha… ha!"

"So this is a great nation!"

"So this is a small nation!"

"I curse you!"

"I curse you to fall, to be trampled underfoot like stray dogs scavenging garbage on the roadside!"

"I'll wait for you… in hell…"

His voice was cut off abruptly. The once-towering Kusagakure administration building was gone, leaving behind only a perfect, square-shaped crater.

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