Konoha Academy

It was noon in Konoha. The entire village was steeped in peace and tranquility, with the idyllic calm of a quiet life. Everywhere, construction work was in full swing. At the village center, Kage Rock was only partially built. Along the streets, the villagers went about their routines, each following their own path and trade. Simple, sincere smiles brightened every face.

Or perhaps they were expressions of pride.

How could they not be proud of the greatest village in the Shinobi World? Peaceful, secure, powerful, and happy—this was Konoha, a place people longed for. Aside from lacking both freedom and democracy, there was little else worth mentioning.

Perhaps there was one thing: the place where every story began.

The Ninja Academy—back then, its predecessor was Konoha Academy.

The new school year had long since begun, and the first term was already over. After a somewhat lengthy summer vacation came autumn, when the scent of ripening rice filled the air.

Konoha Academy had not been founded to train killing machines. Its purpose was to keep the children of ninja from going to war, let them experience the joys of learning and play, and allow them to grow up in peace until they were old enough to enjoy fine wine.

Thus, the schoolyard was filled with noisy seven- and eight-year-old brats.

As the first generation, these children were undoubtedly lucky. They had ridden the crest of a new era, never witnessing the cruelty of the Warring States period. They were Konoha's fortunate first generation.

Among them were second-generation children from Shinobi Clans, carefully protected by their families, as well as commoner kids who'd luckily caught a ride on the tide of the times.

Whatever their backgrounds, this first generation to graduate from Konoha Academy would leave a deep mark on Konoha's history.

For some reason, two Shinobi Clan kids were fighting in the schoolyard.

At that age, children could clash for all sorts of reasons, though it usually boiled down to not liking each other. The half-grown kids had crowded around the two protagonists in layer upon layer, eager to watch the show and unconcerned about getting caught in the crossfire.

A single term, with their clans' guidance, had been enough for everyone to learn one another's abilities and find their place among their peers.

Who was the protagonist, who was the supporting character, and who was just another bystander watching the fun.

"Hiruzen, when talking about the Warring States period, you just have to mention the Ten Great Heroes of the Warring States." A handsome boy with black hair spoke, his expression sullen and smug.

Before the Land of Fire had been unified, its richest territory had been a grand stage for dreams—anyone with the nerve could take a shot.

It was the region with the fiercest ninja battles. Every so often, some powerful outsider would suddenly storm across the border. Take the Uchiha Clan, for example: they had returned from the Land of Lightning to their ancestral homeland and collided head-on with the Senju Clan.

There were countless Shinobi Clans in the region. Every so often, one would run out of manpower, suffer total defeat, and vanish from the history of the ninja. The Hagoromo Clan, for example, seemed to have been wiped out completely after its fierce clashes with the Senju Clan, even before the Uchiha arrived.

The Shinobi Clans were hired by the powerful families who controlled the land, carrying out missions over disputes involving territory, business, and people. Around their respective lords, they fought one bloody, brutal battle after another.

On the outskirts, countless other Shinobi Clans watched the rich land like wolves, eyeing it covetously. The Qian-Gui Clan, Uji, and the Kusanagi Clan were no exceptions.

In life, Yura had often ventured deep into the Land of Fire to gather intelligence on the Shinobi Clans. Who had won another battle, who was on the decline, which family had produced some remarkable figure—these were all topics of conversation in the streets and in commoners' taverns.

"Danzo..." Hiruzen said solemnly, forming the Seal of Confrontation with his hands. "Come on. Make the hand seals properly."

"You're quite polite for a monkey." Little Danzo sneered in disdain. "I won't. So what?"

The onlookers egged them on, delighted to see a fight. The young girls, bright-eyed and in their prime, covered their mouths and giggled as they mocked them. The Shinobi Clan girls had formed their own circle, led by a certain big sister, and laughed equally at all the childish boys.

But Danzo was the most handsome of the boys. He was the only one who could get away with that kind of in-your-face taunting.

Sarutobi Hiruzen's looks, on the other hand, were hard to describe. He simply didn't match the girls' tastes.

"Times have changed, Danzo. Shimura and Sarutobi aren't enemies anymore. We can be friends," Hiruzen said earnestly. He had done well in the academy's cultural classes. He was naturally fond of reading, and carried himself with the bearing of a scholar, unlike ninjas who knew nothing but fighting.

"Who wants to be your friend!" Danzo drew a sharpened kunai and crouched into a fighting stance. "When you talk about the Ten Great Heroes of the Warring States, you naturally think of the Mochizuki, Umino, and Nezu clans. We're all among the middle-ranked clans. The fight between the Sarutobi and Shimura clans will never end."

Before Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara emerged, the top Shinobi Clans in the Warring States region had been evenly matched. They each had one of the three major clans at their head and formed alliances to fight one another. Today, you killed one of my kids; tomorrow, I'd kill one of yours. That was how the ten great Shinobi Clans came to be.

Before the title of Kage existed, the highest praise a ninja could receive was "Shinobi Hero." Every Shinobi Clan leader in the region was recognized as one.

As for the Senju and Uchiha, they were too busy going after each other to get away or take part in the conflicts here.

That was why Uchiha Madara had been so shocked when he heard that the Sarutobi and Shimura had joined Konoha. Apart from their big names, he hadn't expected them to so readily abandon their generations-old feud.

As for the Shinobi Clans that hadn't joined Konoha, they could either run away or wait for Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara to crush them together.

The vast territory of the Land of Fire hadn't been handed out as a freebie.

"Today, I'll see for myself just how good your Sarutobi Technique is." Danzo spoke coldly. There was something he couldn't hold back, something he wanted to say, but when he saw the eager look on Hiruzen's face, he turned away slightly and swallowed the cruelest words.

"Enough talk! Hurry up, you sneaky monkey!" But staying silent was impossible. He'd already held back as much as he could. The adults in his family talked like that, so naturally, he did too.

A person's character didn't grow in isolation. It took shape in response to their environment. Every Shinobi Clan raised the kind of ninja it was.

Hiruzen sighed and replied unhurriedly, "You're the one who keeps talking, Danzo. I haven't said anything pointless." He slowly lowered his stance and drew a sharpened kunai.

If they were going to fight, he wouldn't back down.

After all, he was a ninja.

"I can't stand that look on your face," Danzo said coldly. "You don't understand the darkness of the ninja world at all."

Fights between ninja children were common. Seeing blood was nothing unusual.

Still, there were good kids among them. One commoner child, educated by the village, slipped away under the weight of worrying that the two protagonists might take their anger out on him later, and went to report them to a teacher.

If anyone was the most authoritative teacher at Konoha Academy, it was Tobirama Senju.

The boy ran until he was gasping for breath, still wondering why Teacher Tobirama hadn't intervened today. It was strange. Whenever he sensed a conflict brewing before, Tobirama would appear without a sound and stop it, his expression frighteningly grim.

He shoved the door open and yelled, "Teacher! Something's wrong! Monkey and that jerk are about to fight again!"

The staff room at Konoha Academy was small, and there weren't many ninja teachers. Tobirama handled almost every subject, prepared the textbooks, and helped with the Hokage's work in his spare time. He was an exceptionally capable, incredibly busy man.

But now, for once, he had some free time.

He stood by the window, gazing at the sky as if lost in thought.

The boy froze. He hadn't expected to find the teacher not hunched over his work.

"Ryuta, tell everyone school's out."

Tobirama said that, but the next moment, his brows furrowed. "No, never mind."

His eyes were fixed on the sky above, beyond the clouds. He couldn't see what was there, but he could sense it.

At an altitude of eighteen thousand meters—the highest Little Monster could fly—Yura sat with her legs crossed amid the howling wind. The breeze tossed her hair as she looked down at Konoha, hidden beneath layer upon layer of clouds.

Eighteen thousand meters. It still didn't feel high enough.

If Senju Hashirama could still swat her down with a single wooden strike from this height, Yura would accept her fate. Beneath her, the feathers carried the gift she had prepared for Tobirama Senju.

"It's too high, Big Monster. I'm having trouble breathing..." Lucy said miserably. The altitude was making her feel awful.

"Come on, you can do it." Yura curled a finger. The strand of hair connecting them drifted in the wind.

With a pop, several Shadow Clones vanished in the village. At the same time, Tobirama rose from his seat in the Hokage's office. He shook the fatigue from his mind, using the Senju Clan's robust constitution to steady himself, then gathered his strength and headed toward the clan compound.

For a situation like this, they needed Big Brother to take charge.

Their enemy was far too high up, and their chakra was immense. It had dared to come straight to their doorstep.

Tobirama had to give it this much:

"Impressive nerve!"

Tobirama's face darkened as he sneered.