Night Raid on Feathered Robes

The night was thick as ink, and a biting cold wind whipped through the forest, carrying a heart-wrenching wail. Uchiha Sou followed closely behind his clansmen, moving silently through the branches. The chakra beneath his feet adhered precisely to the tree trunks, not making a single unnecessary sound.

He was shrouded in dark combat gear, the Uchiha crest displayed on his back, his cold forehead protector pressed tightly against his skin. The shuriken and kunai in his ninja pouch swayed slightly with his movements, like dormant vipers ready to bare their fangs at any moment.

His heart drummed against his ribs—a mix of the tension from his first official mission and the fear of an unknown battlefield. But more than that, there was a suppressed excitement—the excitement belonging to the bellicose factors within the Uchiha bloodline. Although his Sharingan was not yet active, his vision remained far sharper than an ordinary person's in the dark, clearly capturing the silhouette of Uncle Izuna ahead, who moved with the grace and power of a hunting leopard.

The entire team was like a silent army of ghosts, with only the faint sound of robes cutting through the wind and the occasional crunch of a withered leaf. A stifling, murderous aura permeated the group, and even their breathing was intentionally light.

After galloping for about an hour, the ninja leading the way suddenly made a gesture. The entire team froze instantly, as if a pause button had been pressed. Everyone crouched low, blending into the shadows of the trees, their gazes cast sharply toward the valley below.

Uchiha Sou followed their line of sight.

In the valley, a few flickering lights were vaguely visible, outlining the contours of a small outpost. Several crude wooden buildings were built against the mountain, with simple watchtowers and fences on the perimeter. That was the supply transit station of the Hagaromo clan, the target of this operation.

"It seems the intelligence was correct." Izuna's voice was low and cold, clearly audible in the silent night. "The distribution of the patrols and the shift change times are exactly as we gathered. Tsang, look closely; this is the consequence of underestimating the enemy and being careless. The Hagaromo clan thinks they can rest easy just because they have the Senju at their backs—it's a joke."

Uchiha Sou held his breath, carefully memorizing the layout of the outpost below and the positions of the sentries. This was his first lesson on the battlefield.

Izuna gave a simple gesture, and the team immediately dispersed into several small groups, like a cast net, silently encircling the valley from different directions. Uchiha Sou's group was led by an experienced Chunin, responsible for cutting in from the flank, clearing the outer sentry posts, and creating chaos.

"Follow me, and maintain absolute silence," the team leader commanded in a low voice, a flash of red light from a single-tomoe Sharingan flickering in his eyes.

Uchiha Sou nodded heavily, took a deep breath to suppress the throbbing in his heart, and followed closely.

The infiltration went unexpectedly smoothly. The Hagaromo guards were even more lax than imagined. Perhaps they never expected the Uchiha to launch a night raid so decisively, or perhaps the conflict in the northwest had led them to misjudge the Uchiha's main direction of attack.

"Puchi!"

A kunai sank precisely into a sentry's throat. Before he could even issue a warning, he collapsed limply and was quickly dragged into the shadows by an Uchiha ninja.

A heavy scent of blood began to permeate the air of the valley.

Uchiha Sou gripped his kunai, his knuckles turning white from the force. This was his first time witnessing death at such close range; a vibrant life extinguished before his eyes in an instant. His stomach churned, but he forced himself to endure it. His Sharingan activated involuntarily, the single tomoe slowly rotating, imprinting the surrounding details into his mind with extreme clarity while simultaneously magnifying the stimulation brought by the scent of blood.

"Mercy to the enemy is cruelty to yourself and your comrades," the team leader's cold voice rang in his ear. "Remember, this is a battlefield."

Just then, a massive fireball erupted from the largest building in the center of the outpost!

BOOM!

A deafening explosion tore through the silence of the night, and the soaring flames instantly illuminated half the valley!

"Enemy attack! It's the Uchiha!!" The shrill alarm finally sounded, but it was already too late.

The battle erupted in full force!

"Move!" the team leader barked, charging out first. His ninja sword unsheathed, cutting toward a panicked Hagaromo ninja rushing out of the house with a cold, chilling light.

Uchiha Sou gritted his teeth and lunged out as well. A Hagaromo ninja swung a long blade at him, but the movement appeared somewhat sluggish within the vision of his single-tomoe Sharingan. He instinctively dodged to the side, his kunai slashing upward in one fluid motion.

Slash!

Warm liquid splashed onto his face. The opponent let out a muffled grunt and stumbled backward.

Did I get him?! Uchiha Sou's heart tightened. Before he could even think, another wind blade struck from the side! The Sharingan captured the flow of chakra, and he narrowly ducked, the wind blade cutting off a few strands of his hair and leaving a deep mark on the tree behind him.

The life-or-death stimulation caused him to cast aside all distracting thoughts. His body instinctively followed the insight of the Sharingan and the muscle memory formed through countless training sessions: dodging, shifting, blocking, and counterattacking!

Kunai and ninja swords clashed, sending out harsh sparks. Explosive tags detonated in the surroundings from time to time, igniting grass, trees, and buildings—and lives. Screams, roars, and explosions intertwined, playing a cruel movement of death.

Uchiha Sou moved through the chaos. His primary task was not to kill, but to use the Sharingan's insight to assist his teammates and use Fire Release for area suppression.

"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"

He formed the seals, inhaled, and his chest swelled. Scorching flames erupted from his mouth. Although the scale was far from that of Madara or Izuna, it successfully forced back two Hagaromo ninjas attempting to pincer his teammate.

The battle became one-sided. The Uchiha clan had come prepared with their elite forces, while the Hagaromo clan clearly lacked the strength to defend the outpost. They were quickly divided, surrounded, and annihilated.

Under the reflection of the flames, the faces of the Uchiha ninjas were as cold as ice. The scarlet light of their Sharingan flickered amidst the smoke and fire, like messengers from the underworld, efficiently and coldly harvesting lives.

Uchiha Sou panted, standing amidst the wreckage, his feet on scorched earth and blood that had yet to dry. He had consumed a fair amount of chakra, and his body was covered in dust and bloodstains with a few minor scratches, but he was otherwise unharmed.

He looked around, seeing the twisted, resentful expressions of the fallen Hagaromo ninjas, watching the sporadic enemies still putting up a desperate resistance being quickly slaughtered, and seeing his clansmen begin to methodically search for supplies, finish off the wounded, and set explosive tags to completely destroy the place.

A complex, indescribable emotion surged within him. There was the lingering fear of having survived the battle, the physiological discomfort of killing for the first time, the shock of witnessing the cruelty of war, but also a trace of... a cold pleasure in controlling power?

Is this the Warring States period? An era written in blood and fire.

Just then, the ninja responsible for guarding the perimeter suddenly issued a sharp warning whistle!

Following that, a roar filled with shock and fury came from that direction:

"Senju! It's Tobirama Senju!!"

Like ice water poured into boiling oil, the entire battlefield exploded!

Every Uchiha ninja's movements stalled for a beat, only to erupt with even more astonishing killing intent and a bone-deep hatred for the Senju!

The battle that had just ended seemed like a mere appetizer; the true feast—or rather, the deathmatch—had only just begun!

Uchiha Sou snapped his head up, his Sharingan instantly focusing toward the entrance of the valley.

There, at the end of the flickering firelight and billowing smoke, a dozen figures charged forward like arrows released from a bow. The man in the lead, with short silver hair and two red markings on his cheeks, his eyes as sharp as blades—who else could it be but Tobirama Senju?!

How could they be here?! How could it be such a coincidence?!

A cold thought uncontrollably darted into Uchiha Sou's mind, making him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

That shuriken... that accidentally triggered alarm... the skirmish in the northwest... the clan's decision to establish prestige... this night raid plan...

The sudden appearance of Tobirama Senju...

Could all of this truly be...?!

Before he could even begin to ponder, the bone-chilling command of Izuna Uchiha, laced with extreme fury, already echoed throughout the entire valley:

"Everyone! Engage the enemy!!"

"Slaughter these Senju bastards!!"