Somewhere in the Land of Grass.
Crisscrossing fissures tore through the earth. Charred soil and stone filled the view, and dried brown blood soaked the entire grassland.
Broken ninja blades, shattered puppet limbs, and scraps of burned explosive tags lay scattered about, while damaged forehead protectors lay embedded in the mud.
In the distance, turbulent chakra currents howled and collided. Fire Release sent billowing black smoke into the air, arcs of lightning tore through the gray sky, and towering walls raised by Earth Release collapsed with a crash.
Countless shinobi fought and killed one another. Kunai shrieked through the air, wind blades sliced through it, and successive ninjutsu explosions kept the ground trembling.
Countless corpses lay strewn across the distant hills, and tattered banners teetered in the fierce wind. A thin haze of dust and smoke shrouded everything. Wounded shinobi leaned against broken rocks, gasping for breath. Severed limbs and damaged armor lay everywhere. Deathly silence mingled with the sounds of slaughter, and everywhere lay the desolation and devastation left by war.
What made war war was that beneath the smoke, there were no dignified duels, only ordinary lives being crushed.
Young shinobi hastily gripped their kunai to face the enemy, falling onto scorched earth before they had even understood their own ninja ways. Elderly residents of the local villages and towns hid underground, watching helplessly as Fire Release burned the homes their families had lived in for generations to ashes.
On a distant mountain.
Several people wearing Amegakure forehead protectors silently watched the fighting below.
"Do you need me to intervene? There are clearly... ordinary residents of the Land of Grass here. These shinobi from Konoha and Iwagakure..."
Watching the distant battlefield, Nagato could not help recalling the sight of his parents being killed by Konoha ninja.
Even after