"Pah!"
Uchiha Saburo spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.
He looked up at the sun and realized it was already past noon, then turned his gaze toward the battlefield.
At this moment.
The once-solid ground had become a muddy mess soaked in blood. Corpses lay everywhere; one careless step could land on one.
There were not only Allied Forces shinobi among them, but also White Zetsu and Impure World Reincarnation shinobi wrapped up like rice dumplings.
Even Uchiha Saburo, who had lived from the Warring States period until now, swayed at the horrific sight. "After this war, the number of shinobi in every village will probably be less than half of what it was before."
"That's optimistic!"
Uchiha Mado's slightly hoarse voice followed. "After yesterday's battle, the surviving shinobi of each village were probably only sixty percent of what they had after the Third Shinobi World War. After today's battle, will each village even have two thousand shinobi left?"
As soon as he finished speaking, Mado, covered head to toe in blood, flashed to the Great Elder's side, panting heavily.
Seeing the blood-soaked clothes on the other man, Uchiha Saburo's heart sank. He knew the blood did not belong to the enemy, but to Mado himself.
"Are you going to the medical support unit?" Saburo asked worriedly.
"No!"
Mado shook his head firmly. Glancing at the battles around them, he said in a low voice, "Although reinforcements have arrived and the situation is slowly tilting toward the Ninja Allied Forces, now is not the time to withdraw."
Uchiha Saburo naturally understood that as well.
Compared to the other support units, the Fourth Division had been among the first to arrive.
Both physically and mentally, their group had already reached their limits. If they remained on the battlefield... Thinking