Iwagakure Army Attacks, 2000 vs 1500!

A "boom" went off in Guy's head.

Two thousand men!

Iwagakure!

This wasn't a probe, nor was it a sneak attack.

It was an all-out assault.

He instinctively tightened his grip on his sword hilt, his knuckles turning white.

Something was wrong.

Wasn't the Battle of Kikyo Mountain fought against Sunagakure?

How had it turned into Iwagakure?

Could it be that because I killed Iwami Shigezo, I triggered a butterfly effect?

Or was this offensive always meant to happen, just never mentioned?

Guy didn't know.

But he was certain of one thing.

A true war was about to erupt.

However, Lu Yi on the high platform said nothing more, merely waving a hand.

"All divisions, depart according to formation."

The people below began to move.

It wasn't chaotic.

They dispersed in an orderly fashion, gathering toward their respective captains.

Guy scanned the area and counted.

Eight phalanxes.

Each phalanx had about one hundred and eighty men.

This was their entire force.

Two thousand on the other side.

They were short by five hundred men!

In normal times, that wouldn't be much.

But on a defensive line, five hundred men meant several gaps.

Choza had already taken his place at the very front of the 7th Division.

As one of the few Jonin in the camp, he was the captain of one of the divisions.

Choza was large, and he could be spotted at a glance in the crowd.

Guy and his two teammates squeezed over.

"Captain."

Choza looked down at him, then glanced at his legs.

"Can you keep up?"

"I can."

Choza didn't ask again, turning to face his one hundred and eighty subordinates.

"Move out."

There were no extra words.

Everyone moved at once, heading out of the camp.

Once they left the camp, the people in front began to accelerate.

From walking to a light jog.

From a light jog to a sprint.

The one hundred and eighty men moved like a snake, slithering along the foot of the mountain toward the front line.

Guy followed within the ranks, not falling a single step behind.

Forty minutes.

After running for forty minutes, the people in front slowed down.

They had reached the front line.

Guy looked up.

Ahead was a low mountain ridge; it wasn't tall, but it offered a clear view.

The length is approximately three thousand meters.

Below the ridge lies an open expanse where the grass has been trampled flat, revealing the yellow earth beneath.

Further to the west lies the direction of the Land of Grass.

Nothing can be seen in that direction.

But Guy knows that two thousand of the enemy are heading this way.

The open ground below.

That is their battlefield!

This three-thousand-meter ridge is their final line of defense!

Nara Shikaku stands upon the ridge, surrounded by eight squad leaders.

Choza is among them.

He stands there, a head taller than those beside him, yet he remains inconspicuous.

Nara Shikaku says something, the squad leaders nod, and they disperse.

Choza walks back, his expression grim.

Guy has never seen him look this way.

For the past three months, there have only been two expressions on Choza's face.

One is "not bad," and the other is "have you eaten?"

Now, this is the third.

Ugly.

"Captain, what's the situation?" Ebisu leans in.

Choza squats down and picks up a twig to draw on the ground.

A curved line represents the ridge.

An arrow is drawn in front of the ridge, pointing from west to east.

"Two thousand enemies on the other side, led by Higashi Shito."

Guy's eyelids twitch upon hearing that name.

Higashi Shito.

The General of Bedrock from Iwagakure.

A relative of the Third Tsuchikage, a jonin among jonin.

Since the war began, he has fought in four major battles.

He won every single one.

He left no survivors in any of them.

Choza continues to draw on the ground.

"Their objective is clear: to break through Kikyo Mountain and strike directly into the heart of the Land of Fire."

The twig marks several lines behind the arrow, representing their forces.

"This isn't the first time Higashi Shito has faced us. His style is straightforward: frontal annihilation."

He pauses.

"No tricks, no feints, just a hard push."

Guy stares at the line on the ground.

Straightforward.

That is the hardest to deal with.

If there are tricks, you can counter them; if there are feints, you can defend against them.

When they crush you head-on, you have no choice but to hold the line.

If you can hold, you live.

If you cannot hold, you die.

Choza tosses the twig aside and stands up.

"However, our mission is not to drive them back, but to hold."

He points to the open area below the ridge.

"Hold until reinforcements arrive. The mobile unit departed from Konoha and will arrive by dawn tomorrow at the earliest."

Guy looks at the open ground below and then at this line of defense.

One thousand five hundred men, facing two thousand.

Defending for at least one day and one night.

It was not that this battle could not be fought.

But it would be difficult!

Guy gripped his sword hilt, his palms slick with sweat.

"Where is our position?" he asked.

Choza pointed to a section slightly to the left of the ridge.

Choza looked at the three of them, silent for two seconds.

"When the time comes, stay close to me."

Just six words.

But the tone was different from usual.

Ebisu pushed up his sunglasses and said nothing.

Genma took the toothpick out of his mouth and stuck it back in.

Guy nodded.

Choza turned and walked toward the ridge.

"Let's go, eat first."

The three of them followed behind.

A few makeshift sheds had been erected behind the ridge, and the Cooking Squad had already set up their pots.

The rice was cold, and the vegetables were chilled.

But the portions were huge.

No one complained.

Guy held his bowl, squatting on the ground to shovel down the rice.

He ate cleanly, not a single grain of rice left at the bottom of the bowl.

A tough battle was coming; there would be no time to eat later, so he had to be full.

When he put his bowl down, he saw Ebisu eating as well.

He was eating quickly, his cheeks bulging.

Genma had finished and was staring into the distance with his toothpick between his teeth.

After finishing the last bowl of rice, the three of them tossed their bowls into a basket.

They stood up and walked toward the ridge.

The ridge was already packed with people.

Fifteen hundred men were spread out along the ridgeline.

There were no flags, no slogans.

Everyone was doing their own thing.

Checking their Ninja Tool Pouch, adjusting their forehead protectors, pulling a Kunai from their bandages and sliding it back in.

Some were squatting on the ground, drawing seals and infusing chakra into Explosive Tags.

Some had their eyes closed, lips moving slightly as they memorized something.

Some were silently setting things up on the battlefield.

Guy and his companions belonged to the Assault Squad.

They stood at the position of the 7th Division and looked down.

Below the ridge, at the edge of the open ground, there was nothing on the horizon.

But the air felt wrong.

The wind had stopped. The grass wasn't swaying. Even the birds had gone silent.

Ebisu stood to his right, clutching a Kunai, his expression stiff.

"Guy."

"Yeah."

"When do you think they'll come?"

Guy didn't answer, staring at the horizon.

It was too quiet there.

It was like those few seconds before water comes to a boil.

The lid is rattling, the steam is rising, but the water hasn't boiled yet.

The moment the water boils...

"They're here."

Guy's voice was very soft, but his expression was grave.

Ebisu didn't hear him clearly: "What?"

Guy tilted his chin upward.

The gazes of everyone on the ridge began to converge in that direction.

On the horizon, a reddish-brown line appeared.

It didn't widen slowly; it appeared in an instant.

Two thousand people were arranged into square formations.

From south to north, they blanketed the entire horizon.

The interval between each formation was identical, and the distance between every row of men was the same.

Likewise, there were no banners, no slogans.

Just people.

Two thousand people, walking forward in silence.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The ground was trembling.

Two thousand people, four thousand feet, the sound of their landing synthesized into one.

Ebisu's Kunai nearly slipped from his hand.

"This... this is too many..."

Guy stared at that gray line.

The enemy hadn't split into multiple routes, hadn't kept a reserve force, and wasn't feigning an attack.

It was just a line of formations, arranged in a long, snake-like formation.

Crushing toward the ridge.

There were no weak points, no breakthroughs.

Every single point was a hard nut to crack.

Nara Shikaku stood at the highest point of the ridge, squinting his eyes for a few seconds.

"All battalions, pay attention."

"First line, Earth Release squad, prepare."

"Second line, Fire Release squad, prepare."

"Third line, Explosive Tag squad, prepare."

"Wait for my command."

There was no impassioned mobilization.

There were no slogans about the Will of Fire.

Just simple orders.

And, as a commander, absolute calm.