Warriors Should Stand Before the Weak

Naruto took a scroll of parchment from his ninja tool pouch and tossed it down.

"I confiscated this from one of Gato's men. It details the 'Purification Plan' he prepared for this village after hiring the rogue ninja Momochi Zabuza."

Of course, it was fake.

Naruto had drafted it himself the previous night, based on all the intelligence he had gathered and the methods Warhammer World nobles commonly used to deal with "rebellious planets."

But to these desperate villagers, it was the final straw that broke the camel's back.

A few literate people gathered around it and read aloud the forged words, filled with bloody details.

"Phase one: eliminate target Tazuna..."

"Phase two: destroy the bridge and execute all craftsmen..."

"Phase three: purge the entire village to eliminate future trouble..."

Crying rose from the crowd, then spread into one continuous wail.

They had fallen completely into despair.

Naruto waited, letting their fear ferment until it reached its peak.

Then he spoke again.

"Now, you have two choices."

"First, kneel here and wait to die crying. Wait for Gato's butcher's blade to fall on your necks."

"Second, pick up weapons, stand up, and fight for your own lives—for the lives of your families!"

His words were like blades, cutting fiercely into every person's instinct to survive.

"The weak have no right to choose. Peace has never come from prayer! It is bought with blood and steel!"

"Your tears are worthless! The only thing that can protect you is the weapon in your own hands!"

The villagers struggled fiercely between fear and their desire to live.

They looked at one another and saw the same confusion and helplessness on every face.

Naruto jumped down from the bridge pier and walked straight into the crowd.

He pushed through the crying, stunned people and stopped before the young fisherman who had argued with him earlier.

"You. What's your name?"

"Ka... Kaikai..."

"Good, Kaikai. You used to be a fishing boat captain, right? You know how to command a boat and read the wind. Step forward."

Then he walked toward a burly man.

"You're a blacksmith, right? I need you to make weapons. Simple spears and machetes. Can you do it?"

The blacksmith's lips trembled, but he finally nodded.

"You, hunter, know how to set traps in the forest."

"You, boatmaster, know how to organize people."

Naruto did not ask for anyone's opinion.

One by one, he picked out twelve names from the crowd.

They were all marked on the list as [Core Combatants].

"You twelve, stay."

There was no emotion in Naruto's command.

"Starting today, you are no longer fishermen, hunters, or carpenters. You are warriors."

That afternoon, training began in an open field outside the village.

Naruto did not teach them any ninjutsu.

He stood before the twelve blank-faced villagers, holding a sharpened wooden stick.

"The sole purpose of combat is to kill the enemy. Not defeat him, not drive him back. Kill him."

"There are only a few vital points on the human body."

As he spoke, Naruto pointed at a scarecrow with the wooden stick.

"The throat, the heart, the kidneys. Aim for these places. No unnecessary movements. No hesitation."

"One strike, one kill. That is combat."

He handed the wooden stick to Sasuke.

"Sasuke, demonstrate."

Sasuke took the stick, an unusual excitement flickering in his eyes.

He liked this feeling—the pure skill that existed solely to kill.

Facing the scarecrow, he lowered his body slightly. In the next instant, he was already close enough to strike.

The wooden stick in his hand pierced the scarecrow's throat at a vicious angle.

The movement was clean and decisive, without the slightest excess.

The twelve villagers felt chills run through their bodies.

This boy, no older than their own children, carried a killing intent in his movements that froze them to the bone.

For the first time, they understood in concrete terms that killing could be a kind of "skill."

"Did you see that?" Naruto asked.

"This is what you need to learn. Use the terrain. Use your tools. End the enemy's life in the simplest way possible."

Sasuke became the perfect instructor.

Again and again, he demonstrated Kunai throws, taijutsu blocks, and how to strike the deadliest weak points with the least effort.

The villagers' initial fear and resistance slowly gave way to something else in their eyes.

Maybe... maybe it really was possible.

Maybe they really could use these methods to fight Gato's thugs.

Morale was invisible and intangible, yet it quietly began to gather with every precise demonstration Sasuke gave.

Meanwhile, Sakura was assigned her own task.

Inside an empty house, she taught Tsunami and several other women how to treat wounds.

"This is a tourniquet. Tie it on the side closer to the heart than the wound."

"This is the most basic disinfecting herb. Crush it and apply it."

She explained as she demonstrated. Watching those women awkwardly learn to bandage wounds, Sakura felt as though she were being torn apart inside.

What she was teaching was not medicine meant to save lives.

She was preparing logistical support for an impending slaughter.

Every method she taught foretold that soon, real bleeding wounds would need their care.

"There will always be casualties in war."

Naruto's words echoed in her mind.

At last, she understood some of the weight behind them. This was not a matter of right or wrong. It was a matter of life and death.

She clenched her fists and continued teaching, her voice carrying a steadiness she had not even noticed herself gaining.

Kakashi stood on a large tree in the distance, taking everything in.

He watched Naruto use words and fear to force a flock of sheep into wolves ready to fight for their lives.

He watched Sasuke, the boy obsessed with revenge, find a strange sense of belonging while teaching others how to kill.

He watched Sakura, the girl who had once done nothing but cry, learn how to face blood.

Everything had strayed beyond the conventions of Konoha ninja.

How was this a B-rank mission?

This was a small-scale wartime mobilization led by his students.

Naruto's methods were cold, cruel, and utterly inhuman.

Yet Kakashi had to admit it.

They could protect these fragile people to the greatest extent possible.

He, the Jonin and team leader, had been nothing but a spectator from beginning to end.

He began to reconsider what role he should truly play in this team.

Should he stop them?

Or... join them?

Naruto walked up to the twelve men as they rested and threw down a pile of sharpened bamboo spears.

"Pick them up."

"Your training is only truly beginning now."

The third day of training, at dusk.

The twelve villagers gripped rough bamboo spears and mechanically repeated stabbing motions.

Sweat soaked through their thin clothes, while numbness and exhaustion mixed across their faces.

Sasuke stood before them, expressionless.

"Lower your wrist. Your spear point is off by three inches."

"Use your waist. Don't push with your arms, idiot."

"Next."

His words were cold and devoid of emotion, yet they precisely pointed out every person's mistakes.

The corrected villager shuddered and immediately adjusted his stance.

Naruto stood on higher ground nearby, looking down at the crude training ground.

Every person's movements and limits formed into data within his mind.

A look of satisfaction appeared on his face, like he had confirmed that the parts met performance standards.

Meanwhile, inside Tazuna's home.

Sakura was teaching Tsunami and several women how to treat wounds.

"No, don't wrap it that way. It will compress the blood vessels."

She caught Tsunami's hand and corrected her bandaging technique.

When Sakura touched Tsunami's fingers, she froze for a moment.

The woman's hands were covered in thick calluses from labor, yet the way she handled the bandage carried an odd familiarity.

"Ms. Tsunami, you..."

"My husband used to fish at sea. Something in the ocean injured his leg." Tsunami lowered her head, speaking softly. "I took care of him for a while."

Something stabbed into Sakura's heart.

War.

It had not begun only when ninja appeared.

It had long since seeped into these ordinary people's lives, quietly changing everything through poverty and injury.

At night, beneath dim oil lamps, the atmosphere was oppressive.

Tazuna held a cup of water, his hands shaking badly.

Unable to bear it any longer, he walked over to Naruto by the window.

"Naruto... young man." He carefully chose his words, his throat dry. "Are... are you really going to make them... fight Gato's samurai to the death?"

"They're fishermen and carpenters!"

"You're sending them to their deaths!"

Naruto did not turn around. He only looked out at the village, shrouded in darkness.

It was deathly silent. Not even a dog barked.

"Mr. Tazuna."

Naruto spoke.

"The time has not come."

Tazuna froze.

What kind of answer was that?

Those cryptic words doused the faint hope he had just begun to feel with a basin of ice water.

He looked at Naruto's back. Inside that thin body was a monster he could not understand at all.

The fourth day.

The training changed.

Kakashi stood in a tree and watched Naruto direct the villagers through a new exercise.

It was not a more aggressive charge, nor a deadlier assassination.

It was... retreating.

"At the sound of the whistle, find cover within three seconds."

"Work in pairs. Cover each other as you fall back, and maintain formation."

"Memorize your retreat routes. Everyone has three alternate routes. Do not take the wrong one!"

Naruto's commands remained cold and efficient.

Kakashi frowned.

This was completely different from the human-wave fodder tactics he had expected.

It was more like... training a small unit that knew how to preserve itself.

What exactly was this student trying to do?

As Sasuke guided the villagers, he experienced a feeling unlike anything he had known before.

Those adults—men taller and stronger than him—were as fearful before him as sheep.

They depended on him and longed to learn the skills to survive from him.

The taste of being revered and needed satisfied him more than merely completing an A-rank ninjutsu ever could.

He began to enjoy it.

A sense of superiority belonging to the strong—the feeling of holding other people's lives and deaths in his hands.

Something within him was quietly changing.

In the corner, a small figure was peeking out furtively.

It was Inari.

Hugging his knees, he watched the uncles who usually did nothing but sigh and lament now clutch weapons and train, drenched in sweat.

He could not understand it.

"Come here."

Naruto's words made his whole body stiffen.

He had been discovered.

Inari wanted to run, but his legs refused to obey him.

He could only lower his head and shuffle over to Naruto.

Naruto looked down at the child whose face was streaked with tears.

"Do you think they're stupid?"

Inari said nothing, only lowered his head even further.

"You think resisting is useless and will only bring even more terrible retaliation."

Naruto was simply stating the truth.

Inari's body began to tremble.

"Crying and giving up are privileges of the weak." Naruto crouched down until they were eye to eye. "But privileges come at a price."

"The truly strong fight to protect the people important to them."

"It isn't because there is hope that you fight. It's because you fight that there will be hope."

Inari suddenly raised his head and looked at Naruto through tear-filled eyes.

Those words were completely different from what his dead father had said.

Yet they carried a force that struck straight at his soul.

On the morning of the fifth day.

Dawn had barely broken, and the cold, damp mist had yet to disperse.

Naruto blew a shrill assembly whistle.

Everyone—including Kakashi, Sasuke, Sakura, and the twelve militiamen who had begun to take shape—quickly gathered in the open space.

"From now on, militia training is suspended."

Standing before them all, Naruto announced the order.

The villagers looked at one another, their faces filled with confusion and unease.

Kakashi's heart sank.

It's here.

The thing he had feared most was finally happening.

"The enemy will arrive soon," Naruto continued. "Now is the time for actual combat."

The air froze.

Sakura's face went pale in an instant.

Sasuke tightened his grip on his Kunai, his body tensing.

Tazuna's legs went weak, and he nearly collapsed to the ground.

Sure enough, they were bait.

They were going to use the lives of these civilians who had only just picked up weapons to wear down the enemy and create an opportunity for the real ninja.

What a cold, what an... efficient tactic.

Kakashi clenched his fist inside his sleeve.

He had to stop him.

As a teacher and a Konoha Jonin, he absolutely could not allow this to happen.

Just as he was about to speak, Naruto calmly swept his gaze across the crowd.

"You seem to have misunderstood something."

He spoke.

"Training the militia is for this country's future, not for this battle."

The words Kakashi had been about to say caught in his throat.

What did he mean?

"A qualified commander never places his hopes on recruits who have never been tempered by war."

"Warriors should stand in front of the weak."

"Only cowards hide behind civilians."

Naruto's voice was not loud, but every word carried immense weight, slamming into everyone's hearts.

He looked around at the twelve stunned villagers. Finally, his gaze fell on his teacher and companions.

"Our mission is to protect the client."

"And Gato and all the armed forces under him are direct threats to the client's life."

"So..."

Naruto paused before stating his conclusion.

"We will find them, then kill and eliminate every one of Gato's men."

"Not a single one will be left."

Those words exploded in everyone's ears like thunder from a clear sky.

Sakura covered her mouth and stared at Naruto in disbelief.

Sasuke's pupils contracted sharply as a violent fighting spirit surged from the depths of his heart.

Take the initiative?

Wipe out the enemy entirely?

This was... this was the bearing a strong person should have!

Kakashi's exposed eye widened as he stared fixedly at Naruto.

His mind was completely blank.

Only then did he finally understand.

All of Naruto's previous coldness, all his cruelty, those calculations that treated people like parts, those inhuman training methods...

They had all merely been means to an end.

They were the optimal path he had chosen to achieve his ultimate goal.

And from the very beginning, his goal had never been to sacrifice anyone.

It was to use the most reliable force—themselves—to Root out the threat.

This student's coldness was armor wrapped around his outermost layer.

Beneath that armor lay his purest and most maddening principle as a "warrior."

Protect the weak.

Looking at the blond boy, Kakashi felt for the first time that everything he thought he knew about him had been completely overturned.