Warriors Should Stand Before the Weak

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

"This is what I seized from 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 written it himself the night before, based on all the intelligence he had gathered and the methods Warhammer World nobles commonly used to deal with "rebellious planets."

But to these despairing villagers, it was the final straw.

The few who could read 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 a chorus.

They had fallen completely into despair.

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

Then he spoke again.

"Now, you have two choices."

"First, kneel here, cry, and wait to die. 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 your families' lives!"

His words cut viciously 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 the desire to survive.

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

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

He pushed aside the weeping and stunned villagers 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 out."

Then he walked toward a large, 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 in the end, he nodded.

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

"You, boat captain, know how to organize manpower."

Naruto did not ask for anyone's opinion.

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

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

"You twelve, stay."

There was no emotion in Naruto's command.

"From today onward, 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 numb-faced villagers, holding a sharpened wooden stick.

"The only 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 straw dummy 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 flashing in his eyes.

He liked this feeling. Pure technique that existed solely for killing.

Facing a straw dummy, he lowered his body slightly. In the next instant, he was already close.

The wooden stick in his hand pierced precisely into the dummy's throat from a tricky angle.

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

The twelve villagers felt a chill run through their bodies.

This boy, barely older than their own children, carried a killing intent in his movements that made their bones go cold.

For the first time, they understood concretely that killing could be a kind of "technique."

"Did you see clearly?" Naruto asked.

"This is what you need to learn. Use the terrain, use tools, and end the enemy's life in the simplest way possible."

Sasuke became the perfect instructor.

Again and again, he demonstrated kunai throwing, taijutsu blocks, and how to attack the most lethal vital 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 through Sasuke's precise demonstrations.

Meanwhile, Sakura was assigned her task.

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

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

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

She explained as she demonstrated. Watching the women awkwardly learn how to bandage wounds, Sakura felt unbearable torment in her heart.

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

She was preparing logistical support for an impending slaughter.

Every method she taught foretold that soon, real bleeding wounds would need to be treated.

"War always has casualties."

Naruto's words echoed in her mind.

At last, she understood a little of the weight behind those words. 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.

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

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

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

He watched Sakura, the girl who had once only known how to cry, learn how to face blood.

Everything had strayed from 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 devoid of humanity.

Yet Kakashi had to admit it.

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

He, a Jonin and the team leader, had been nothing more than an observer from beginning to end.

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

Should he stop them?

Or... join them?

Naruto walked up to the twelve resting men 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 thrusting motions.

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

Sasuke stood before them, expressionless.

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

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

"Next."

His words were cold and emotionless, but they accurately pointed out each person's mistakes.

The corrected villagers shuddered and immediately adjusted their posture.

Naruto stood on a rise some distance away, looking down over the crude training ground.

Every movement and every limit formed data in his mind.

Satisfaction appeared on his face, the satisfaction of finding a component's performance up to standard.

Meanwhile, at Tazuna's house.

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

"No, don't wrap it like that. You'll compress the blood vessels."

She grabbed Tsunami's hand and corrected her bandaging motion.

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

The woman's hands were covered in thick calluses from labor, yet the way she handled bandages carried a strange proficiency.

"Ms. Tsunami, you..."

"My husband used to go out to sea to fish, and something in the sea injured his leg." Tsunami lowered her head, her voice soft. "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 seeped into these ordinary people's lives, quietly changing everything through poverty and injury.

At night, beneath the dim yellow oil lamp, the atmosphere was oppressive.

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

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

"Naruto... lad." He carefully chose his words, his throat dry. "You... you're really going to make them... fight Gato's samurai to the death?"

"They're fishermen and carpenters!"

"You're sending them to die!"

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

It was deathly still. Not even a dog bark could be heard.

"Mr. Tazuna."

Naruto spoke.

"The time has not come."

Tazuna froze.

What kind of answer was that?

Those disconnected words doused the small flame of hope in his heart with a bucket of ice water.

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

The fourth day.

The training changed.

Kakashi stood in a tree, watching Naruto direct the villagers through a new exercise.

It was not a more aggressive charge, nor was it a more lethal assassination.

It was... retreat.

"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 instructions remained cold and efficient.

Kakashi frowned.

This was completely different from the "human cannon 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 felt before.

Those adults, those men larger and stronger than him, feared him like sheep.

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

The taste of being respected and needed satisfied him more than simply completing an A-rank ninjutsu.

He began to enjoy that feeling.

The superiority of the strong—the feeling of controlling whether others lived or died.

Something in his heart was quietly changing.

In the corner, a small figure was secretly peeking.

It was Inari.

Hugging his knees, he watched the uncles who usually did nothing but sigh now gripping weapons and training, sweat pouring down their faces.

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 would not obey him.

He could only lower his head and slowly 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 buried his head lower.

"You think resisting is useless, that it will only bring even more terrible revenge."

Naruto was merely stating the facts.

Inari's body began to tremble.

"Crying and giving up are privileges reserved for the weak." Naruto crouched down and met his eyes. "But privileges come at a price."

"True strength is fighting to protect the people who matter."

"You don't fight because there's hope. You fight, and then hope appears."

Inari suddenly looked up, his tear-filled eyes fixed on Naruto.

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

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

On the fifth day, at dawn.

The sky was only beginning to brighten, 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 clearing.

"From this moment on, militia training is suspended."

Standing before everyone, Naruto announced the order.

The villagers exchanged looks, confusion and unease spreading across their faces.

Kakashi's heart sank.

It was here.

The thing he feared most was about to happen after all.

"The enemy is almost here," Naruto continued. "Now it's time for real combat."

The air froze.

Sakura's face turned deathly pale.

Sasuke tightened his grip on his kunai, his body going taut.

Tazuna's legs gave out, and he nearly collapsed to the ground.

Sure enough, they were bait.

They would 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 shinobi.

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

Kakashi clenched his fist within his sleeve.

He had to stop him.

As their teacher, as a Jonin of Konoha, 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 in 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 weighed a thousand pounds, smashing fiercely into everyone's hearts.

He looked around at the twelve dumbfounded villagers, then finally let his gaze settle on his teacher and companions.

"Our mission is to protect the client."

"And Gato, along with every armed force under his command, is a direct threat to the client's life."

"So..."

Naruto paused before delivering his conclusion.

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

"Not a single one will be spared."

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

Sakura covered her mouth, staring at Naruto in disbelief.

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

Take the initiative?

Wipe out the enemy completely?

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

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

His mind went blank.

Only at that moment did he finally understand.

All of Naruto's earlier coldness, all his cruelty, those calculations that treated people as parts, that inhuman training...

They had all merely been means.

They were the optimal path he had chosen to reach 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 eliminate the threat.

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

Beneath that armor lay the purest, and most insane, principle he held as a "warrior."

Protect the weak.

Kakashi looked at the blond boy and, for the first time, felt that everything he knew about him had been utterly overturned.