Fourth Shinobi World War Begins

Morning mist shrouded the forests on the border of the Waterfall Country.

Fine droplets of water clung to the tips of pine needles, poised to fall. Sunlight filtered through the layers of the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the ground covered with decaying leaves. The air was thick with the damp scent of earth and rotten wood, and in the distance, the faint sounds of clanging metal, the footsteps of ninjas, and suppressed breathing could be heard.

The 50,000-strong allied army has been stationed here for ten days.

Behind the massive waterfall hidden in Takigakure, the makeshift command post was brightly lit, but the atmosphere was as heavy as the morning mist. The reconnaissance team reported every three hours, the Intelligence Division was on duty 24 hours a day, and the medical tent had already prepared three thousand sets of hemostatic bandages and antidotes.

Everyone knows that war could break out at any time.

But no one expected the war to begin in this way.

One hundred meters from the Allied forces' forward positions, a figure stood quietly under the shade of a thousand-year-old cedar tree.

The crimson robe fluttered slightly in the morning breeze, the crimson clouds embroidered on the hem resembling congealed blood. The man's face was mostly hidden behind his raised collar; he stood relaxed, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, without any Hand Seals or defensive gestures.

It's like waiting for an old friend.

"How long has that guy been standing there?"

On the Allied Forces' watchtower, a Cloud Village Chunin asked his companion in a low voice. His fingers gripped Kunai tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

"From dawn until now, a full three hours." His companion's voice was equally tense. "He's been completely still, like a statue."

"What did Iwagakure say?"

"Lord Ōnoki has ordered us to remain inactive."

The Chunin swallowed hard. His gaze pierced through the firing port of the watchtower, fixed on the figure in red clouds and black robes. Three hours was enough for a skilled sniper to fire seventeen lethal shots, enough for a raiding squad to flank three times, and enough to set up thirty-six Explosive Tag traps.

But that person just stood there.

This unnatural calm is more frightening than outright hostility.

"He really is... a member of Akatsuki?" The Chunin's voice trembled slightly. "That 'sake'?"

"Red clouds and black robes, that's right." His companion licked his chapped lips. "The intelligence says he's Madara Uchiha's envoy declaring war. Someone coming to the front lines alone is either a madman, or—"

Before the words were even finished, both of them felt a chill at the same time.

The figure under the tree slightly raised its head.

A hundred meters away, through the lens, those eyes seemed to pierce through the wooden planks of the watchtower, staring straight at the two people inside.

The Chunin instinctively took a half step back, his back slamming against the tower wall.

"He... discovered us?"

"He always knew." His companion's voice had completely lost its warmth. "Three hours, he was just waiting."

What are we waiting for?

The two dared not ask any more questions.

Inside the main tent of the Allied Forces Command Post.

The Fourth Raikage A, crushed the teacup in his hand for the third time. The scalding tea, mixed with ceramic shards, splashed onto the map on the table, staining the border of the Waterfall Country a deep brown.

"What are you waiting for?!" His roar made the tent canvas vibrate. "One person! Just him alone! Our 50,000-strong allied army is blocked on the position by him alone and dares not move?! Where will Cloud Village's face be if word gets out?!"

"Calm down, Raikage."

Ōnoki floated in the center of the tent, arms crossed. Compared to A's volatile temper, the Third Tsuchikage appeared unusually calm—but those who knew him well knew that such calm was often the prelude to a storm.

"That person is proficient in Space-Time Ninjutsu." Ōnoki's voice was old but clear. "Fifteen days ago, he declared war on Iwagakure. From the moment he appeared until he disappeared, my Dust Release didn't even leave a Kakuzu. Afterwards, the Intelligence Division analyzed all known Ninjutsu records and concluded that his space-time movement ability might not be inferior to the Fourth Hokage Minato Namikaze's Flying Thunder God Technique."

Ai slammed his fist on the table, and the solid wood tabletop cracked open.

"So we're just going to stand by and watch?! Let some Akatsuki scum swagger around in front of us?!"

"It's not just looking." Ōnoki landed slowly and walked to the map. "It's observing, analyzing, and waiting for the best opportunity."

Mifune then spoke. The general of the Land of Iron sat cross-legged in a corner of the tent, his sword "Mikazuki Munechika" resting across his lap, the blade reflecting the candlelight inside the tent.

"Raikage, Tsuchikage are right." Mifune's voice was like his blade, steady yet sharp. "That person dared to come alone; he must have something to rely on. A hasty attack might play right into his hands."

Ai took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He knew the two were right, but knowing and accepting were two different things. As the Raikage of Cloud Village, as the commander-in-chief of this allied army, he was used to charging ahead, used to crushing all obstacles with his fists and lightning.

Waiting is the most agonizing tactic.

"Report!"

The tent flap was lifted, and a Cloud Village ninja knelt on one knee, his face pale.

"Speak," Ai said in a deep voice.

"The target... the target just moved."

The three people inside the tent simultaneously narrowed their eyes.

"How did it move?" Ōnoki asked.

"He..." The intelligence ninja swallowed hard. "He raised his head, glanced in the direction of the watchtower, and then... then he stopped moving again."

A brief silence.

"Provocation," Ai squeezed out the word through gritted teeth, "Blatant provocation."

Ōnoki floated to the tent entrance and lifted a corner of the curtain. The morning mist was dissipating, and the outline of the ancient cedar tree a hundred meters away gradually became clear. Beneath the tree, a figure in red clouds and a black robe cast a long shadow in the increasingly strong sunlight.

"He's waiting," Ōnoki suddenly said.

"Waiting for what?" Mifune asked.

"Wait for Madara Uchiha."

The temperature inside the tent seemed to drop several degrees suddenly.

Ai walked over to Ōnoki and followed his gaze. The figure was still quiet, but now, that quietness revealed an unsettling composure—not a pretentious composure, but a composure born of certainty that he was invincible.

"You mean..." Ai's voice lowered.

"The envoy declaring war has arrived." Ōnoki lowered the curtain, turned around, and the wrinkles on his face appeared even deeper in the candlelight. "Then the party that initiated the declaration of war should also make its appearance."

As if to verify his words, a commotion suddenly arose outside the tent.

Then came the second and third rounds.

Footsteps, exclamations, and the scraping of weapons as they were drawn came from all directions of the position, surging toward the command post like a tide.

"Report!"

Another ninja rushed into the tent; this time it was a messenger from Iwagakure. His face was deathly pale, and his voice was distorted with extreme fear.

"The sky... the sky has cracked open!"

Beneath the ancient cedar tree, Neji —or rather, "Sake"—slightly narrowed his eyes.

Through his clear vision behind his glasses, he could see the chaos in the Allied positions ahead.

But he didn't look at the position.

He raised his head and looked up at the sky.

The morning mist had completely dissipated, revealing a clear, azure sky over the border of the Waterfall Country. However, in the very center of this azure, a point of darkness was spreading.

It started as just a dot of ink.

Then the ink dots spread out, turning into Uzumaki.

The Uzumaki spun and expanded, its edges twisting the air and emitting a low, rumbling sound like the panting of a giant beast. Sunlight was refracted and torn apart at the edge of the Uzumaki, forming eerie halos.

Space itself seemed to be wailing.

Neji could sense it, even through the lenses. It wasn't a vibration of sound, but a resonance at the Chakra level—a terrifyingly vast amount of Chakra forcibly tearing apart the barriers of space, creating a gash in the curtain of this world.

He lowered his head and straightened the collar of his red-cloud black robe.

Then he bowed and paid his respects.

His posture was respectful, and his angles were precise, as if he had rehearsed it a thousand times.

Almost at the same moment he bent down, the first figure emerged from the Uzumaki.

A white mask, with Mitsudomoe patterns swirling hollowly at the eye sockets. A black robe billowed in the wind, devoid of red clouds, only pure, all-consuming black. The man's left eye opened behind the mask, ripples spreading outwards—

Rinnegan.

Neji maintained his bowed posture, speaking at just the right volume, his voice steady and clear:

"The mighty and domineering Lord Madara, you have arrived."

Obito —the man who called himself Madara Uchiha —emerged completely from the Uzumaki, his feet lightly touching the ground without stirring up a speck of dust. He glanced at Neji, who was bowing respectfully, and nodded slightly.

There was no "no need for formalities" or "you've had a hard time."

It was just a nod.

That's enough.

Neji straightened up, took half a step back, and stood half a step behind and to the side of Obito. This distance showed respect without being overly obsequious; it allowed him to respond to orders at any time without encroaching on Obito's safety zone.

Ten years. He spent ten years as a corporate slave in real life, observing and learning for ten years. He knew the arrogance of those in power, and as a transmigrator, he understood Obito's mentality, knew Obito's pride, and knew what kind of "subordinates" Obito liked.

Be cautious, efficient, ask few questions, and do not overstep boundaries.

And, just the right amount of awe.

Obito didn't look at Neji again. His gaze traveled over a hundred meters, landing in the direction of the Allied Forces command post. Even from this distance, even with the tents in the way, he could sense the familiar Chakra within—

The Fourth Raikage, as raging as thunder.

The Third Tsuchikage are as thick and heavy as mountains.

The general of the Land of Iron, sharp as a knife.

There are also 50,000 miscellaneous fish.

A cold smile curved his lips behind the mask.

Then he raised his right hand.

The gesture was casual, like a greeting. But as he flicked his finger, the spatial Uzumaki behind him began to spin again.

This time, it wasn't people who walked out.

It is a behemoth.

First, a finger emerged—a huge, grayish-white finger, like a withered tree branch. Then came a second, a third... a total of ten fingers reached out from the Uzumaki, grabbed the edge of space, and pulled hard.

Half of the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path's body squeezed out of the Uzumaki.

The 50,000-strong allied army stopped breathing at the same time.

What is that?

That was mythology, a nightmare, something that existed only in the ancient scrolls—the tool the Sage of Six Paths used to create the moon. It crouched on the earth, its shadow covering half of the Allied forces' front lines. Its mouth was open, eight of its nine eyes were open, and only one eye was tightly closed, as if it were swallowing all the light.

Six figures stood atop the golem's head.

No, it's not human.

It's a corpse.

Yugito Nii, the Jinchuriki of the Two-Tails, Rinnegan in his left eye and Sharingan in his right. Two blue Chakra tails move automatically behind him even without wind.

The Four-Tails Jinchuriki, Roshi, was covered in lava-like patterns, with steam billowing from his pores.

Han, the Five-Tails Jinchuriki, had his Steam Armor fused with his flesh, and dark red blood seeped from beneath his mask.

The Six-Tails Jinchuriki, Utakata, let Utakata spill from the corners of his mouth, which then burst into poisonous mist in the air.

The Seven-Tails Jinchuriki, Fu, had her tattered insect wings spread open, and green scales fell in a flurry.

Killer B, the Eight-Tails Jinchuriki, has eight tails that look like tentacles standing on top of him.

Six corpses, six projections of the Rinnegan.

Obito lowered his right hand.

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly across the entire battlefield, reaching the ears of every one of the 50,000 allied soldiers. The voice was authoritative and cold, devoid of anger or excitement, simply stating a fact:

"The Fourth Shinobi World War begins."

The next second, hell descended.