Night lay thick as ink. A biting wind swept through the forest, stirring an eerie, heart-pounding howl. Uchiha Sou followed close behind his fellow clan members, darting silently between the branches. Chakra clung precisely to the tree trunks beneath his feet, leaving not a single unnecessary sound.
He was clad head to toe in a dark combat uniform, the Uchiha Clan Crest on his back and a cold Forehead Protector pressed firmly against his brow. Shuriken and Kunai in his ninja pouch shifted faintly with his movements, like venomous snakes lying in wait, ready to bare their fangs at any moment.
His heart pounded in his chest like a drum. He felt nervous about taking part in an official mission for the first time, and afraid of the unknown battlefield, but above all, he felt a suppressed excitement—the thrill of the fighting instinct in Uchiha blood. His Sharingan wasn't active, but his eyesight was still far sharper than an ordinary person's in the dark. He could clearly make out the graceful yet powerful silhouette of Uncle Izuna ahead, as lithe as a leopard.
The entire squad moved like a silent army of ghosts. Only the faint whisper of their clothes cutting through the wind and the occasional crack of a dry leaf broke the silence. A stifling aura of slaughter hung over them all, and even their breathing was deliberately quiet.
After about an hour of racing forward, the shinobi leading the way suddenly made a hand signal. The entire squad stopped at once, as if someone had pressed pause. Everyone crouched low, blending into the shadows of the trees, and fixed their keen eyes on the valley below.
Uchiha Sou followed their gaze.
A few flickering points of Light could be seen in the valley, faintly outlining a small outpost. Several crude wooden buildings stood against the mountainside, with a rudimentary watchtower and palisade around them. That was the Hagoromo Clan's supply depot—the target of this operation.
"Looks like the intel was right." Izuna's voice was low and cold, yet carried clearly through the silent night. "The patrols and their shift changes are just as we expected. Sou, take a good look. This is what happens when you underestimate your enemy and let your guard down. The Hagoromo Clan thinks they can rest easy just because the Senju are backing them. What a joke."
Uchiha Sou held his breath, carefully memorizing the layout of the outpost below and the sentries' positions. This was his first lesson on the battlefield.
Izuna made a brief hand signal, and the squad immediately split into several smaller groups, spreading out like a net as they silently moved to surround the valley from different directions. The group Uchiha Sou was in was led by an experienced Chunin. Their job was to slip in from the side, clear the outer checkpoints, and sow confusion.
"Stay close and keep absolutely quiet," the Chunin in charge whispered. A red gleam from his Single Tomoe Sharingan flashed in his eyes.
Uchiha Sou nodded firmly, took a deep breath to suppress his unease, and followed close behind.
The infiltration went unexpectedly smoothly. The Hagoromo Clan's guards were even more lax than they had expected. Perhaps they never thought the Uchiha would launch a night raid so decisively, or perhaps the clash to the northwest had misled them about where the Uchiha would strike.
"Pfft!"
A Kunai pierced a sentry's throat with pinpoint accuracy. He didn't even have time to sound an alarm before he crumpled to the ground. An Uchiha shinobi swiftly dragged him into the shadows.
The heavy stench of blood began to spread through the valley air.
Uchiha Sou tightened his grip on the Kunai, his knuckles paling with the effort. This was the first time he had witnessed death at such close range—a living person had vanished before his eyes in an instant. His stomach churned, but he forced himself to endure it. His Sharingan activated of its own accord, a single Tomoe slowly turning as it etched every detail around him into his mind with perfect clarity—and magnified the shock of the bloodstain's stench.
"Showing mercy to the enemy is cruelty to yourself and your comrades," the Chunin in charge said coldly at his side. "Remember, this is a battlefield."
Just then, a huge fireball erupted from the largest building in the center of the outpost!
Boom!
A deafening explosion tore through the stillness of the night, and a column of flames instantly lit up half the valley!
"Enemy attack! It's the Uchiha!!" A shrill alarm finally rang out, but it was already too late.
The battle erupted all at once!
"Move!" the Chunin in charge roared, charging forward first. He drew his Ninja Blade and slashed at a panicked Hagoromo shinobi rushing out of a building, the blade flashing with a chilling gleam.
Uchiha Sou gritted his teeth and charged out too. A Hagoromo shinobi swung a long blade at him, but the motion looked sluggish through his Single Tomoe Sharingan. He instinctively dodged to the side, then swept his Kunai upward.
Squelch!
Warm liquid splashed across his face. His opponent grunted and staggered backward.
Did I hit him?! Uchiha Sou's heart clenched. Before he could think, another Wind Blade came at him from the side! His Sharingan caught the flow of Chakra, and he ducked just in time. The Wind Blade snipped off a few strands of his hair and struck the tree behind him, leaving a deep mark.
The brush with death drove all other thoughts from his mind. His body instinctively followed the Sharingan's perception and the muscle memory built through countless hours of training—dodging, weaving, blocking, counterattacking!
Kunai and Ninja Blades clashed in a shrill shower of sparks. Explosive Tags went off all around them, setting fire to the plants, the buildings, and the lives caught in the flames. Screams, roars, and explosions blended together in a cruel requiem for the dead.
Uchiha Sou darted through the chaos. His main job wasn't to kill enemies, but to use his Sharingan's keen vision to support his comrades and keep opponents at bay with Fire Style.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
He formed the Hand Seals, drew a breath, and puffed out his chest. Scorching flames poured from his mouth. They were nowhere near as powerful as Madara's or Izuna's, but they still forced back two Hagoromo shinobi who were trying to flank his comrades.
The battle was entirely one-sided. The Uchiha had come prepared and deployed all their elite fighters, while the Hagoromo Clan's forces left to guard the outpost were clearly inadequate. They were soon split up, surrounded, and wiped out.
In the firelight, the Uchiha shinobi's faces were cold as ice. Their Sharingan glowed crimson through smoke and flames. Like messengers from the underworld, they reaped lives with ruthless efficiency.
Uchiha Sou panted, standing amid the ruins. Beneath his feet lay scorched earth and blood that had yet to dry. He had used up a good deal of Chakra, and he was covered in dust and blood, with a few minor cuts, but nothing serious.
He looked around at the twisted, resentful faces of the fallen Hagoromo shinobi; at the last scattered enemies still resisting, quickly cut down; and at his fellow clan members methodically searching for supplies, finishing off the wounded, and setting Explosive Tags to destroy the place completely.
A complicated, hard-to-name feeling stirred in his heart. There was the lingering fear of having survived a battle, the physical revulsion of killing for the first time, and the shock of seeing the cruelty of war—but there was also a trace of... the cold pleasure of wielding power?
So this was the Warring States Period—a time written in blood and fire.
Just then, the shinobi watching the perimeter let out a piercing warning whistle!
Immediately afterward, a shout filled with shock and fury rang out from that direction:
"Senju! It's Tobirama Senju!!"
Like ice water poured into boiling oil, the entire battlefield erupted!
All the Uchiha shinobi froze for a moment, then unleashed an even more astonishing bloodlust and a deep-seated hatred of the Senju!
The battle that had just ended had been no more than an appetizer. The real feast—or rather, the fight to the death—was only just beginning!
Uchiha Sou snapped his head up, his Sharingan instantly focusing on the entrance to the valley.
At the far end, beyond the flickering firelight and swirling smoke, more than a dozen figures charged toward them like arrows loosed from a bow. At their head was a man with short silver hair, two red markings on his cheeks, and a gaze sharp as a blade. Who else could it be but Tobirama Senju?!
How had they gotten here?! How could the timing be such a coincidence?!
A cold thought forced its way into Uchiha Sou's mind, making him feel as if he had been plunged into an icy abyss.
That Shuriken... the warning bell he had accidentally triggered... the clash to the northwest... the clan's decision to make an example of their enemies... the plan for this night raid...
Tobirama Senju's sudden appearance...
Could all of this really...?!
Before he could think it through, Izuna's voice rang across the valley, icy with rage:
"Everyone! Prepare to engage!!"
"Kill every last one of those Senju bastards!!"
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