As dusk deepened, Tsubasa walked along the bluestone path towards Hokage Rock. Passing a tofu shop, the proprietress suddenly handed him a package of oiled paper. "Sir, try our newly made frozen tofu! The new house you built for us has a very strong talisman stove; the tofu cooked in it is three times more fragrant than before!" He hadn't gone far when a little girl selling osmanthus candy caught up with him and slipped a piece of candy into his pocket. "Brother Hokage, thank you! This candy is delicious; please have some."
Beneath the Hokage Rock, several children craned their necks to look at the newly carved statue. " Lord Tsubasa's eyes are as bright as Sharingan!" Little Jiraiya, shouted, pointing at the statue. Orochimaru tapped him on the head. "Idiot, Lord Tsubasa is the Third Hokage, not from the Uchiha Clan!"
Jiraiya scratched his head. "Last time, when the Land of Earth and the Land of Wind invaded, you single-handedly wiped them out. You were even stronger than the First! I watched you from afar, your eyes red with anger. I want to be as strong as you someday!"
As the snowflakes began to fall, Tsubasa stood atop the rock, overlooking the entire village. Warm yellow light emanated from the windows of every house, and the rune lamps shone steadily in the wind and snow. He could faintly hear a children's rhyme coming from someone's house. "Twenty-eight, let the dough rise." He touched the frozen tofu and candy in his pocket and suddenly remembered that morning when he passed by the ruins, several former Konoha knelt in the snow, crying and begging to return—at that time, he had said, " Konoha doesn't want traitors." But now, looking at these myriad lights, he suddenly understood why Lord Hashirama always spoke of mutual understanding and love. It seemed his own heart was not as magnanimous as his master's.
The snow fell heavier and heavier, and the first firecrackers rang out in the distance. Tsubasa turned and walked toward the Hokage's office, his boots leaving a trail of deep footprints in the snow. Behind him, the entire Konoha was wrapped in snow like a new quilt, waiting to welcome a new year free of war in the warmth of the Rune New House.
On the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, just as the fog cleared at the border of the Land of Rice Fields, Sasuke Sarutobi was greeted by his personal guards knocking on his tent door.
"My lord! The army of Konoha... has arrived!"
The newly established shogun of Land of Rice Fields in the Land of Village Hidden in the Rice Fields slammed his teacup to the ground, spilling scalding tea onto his gold-embroidered boots, but he seemed oblivious. A distant, thunderous commotion arose outside the tent. Sasuke Sarutobi to the tent flap, and the sight before him caused his pupils to shrink in shock—
The crimson Vermilion Bird Army fluttered in the cold wind like a burning flame. The Vermilion Bird Corps soldiers at the forefront wore black iron scale armor, with dark red runes peeking out from the gaps in the armor plates. These were Konoha's unique defensive runes, capable of blocking B-rank Ninjutsu attacks. In the center of the legion, a three-zhang-tall Vermilion Bird battle banner stood upright in the ground, the firebird totem on the banner fluttering in the wind. The beak pointed directly at the central command tent of his 80,000-strong army.
"This... this is the newly formed Vermilion Bird Corps of Konoha?" The vice-commander Danki Shimura, his voice trembling. "Wasn't Konoha supposed to only have five 10,000-strong legions? How come they're here to fight us?"
Sasuke Sarutobi remained silent, his nails digging deeply into his palms. He knew, of course, the power of the Vermilion Bird Corps —a secret message from Konoha spies revealed that this force, led by Mito Uzumaki, had once routed a 60,000-strong Village Hidden in the Mist army with only a thousand men on the border of the Land of Whirlpools. Now, the enemy was arrayed in perfect formation, the very air thick with menace. His own troops, on the other hand, were filled with men who had deserted Konoha out of fear of war; half the soldiers were still planning to go home for the New Year to get married. How many would die if a battle broke out? This was the very foundation of his clan's standing in the Shinobi World; he couldn't afford to lose them.
"Report! Lady Mito Uzumaki arrived with his personal guards!"
The messenger's voice was like a knife, piercing the deathly silence of the central command tent. Sasuke Sarutobi watched the fiery red figure approach, and his throat suddenly tightened. Mito Uzumaki's red hair was tied back with a rubber band, and the Forehead Protector on her forehead reflected a cold light. Hanging at her waist was not an ordinary ninja's Kunai, but a rune scroll as tall as a person, the runes on the scroll still faintly warm.
" Sasuke Sarutobi." Mito reined in his horse five paces away, his voice icy. "I heard you've amassed 100,000 troops on the border of Konoha. Are you afraid we'll be attacked by thieves?"
Sasuke Sarutobi forced a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Not at all! It's just that it's nearing the end of the year, and I'm worried that ninjas from other countries might clash against the Land of Fire. After Land of Fire, so... cough cough, I've led the troops to guard the area, just in case!" His lieutenant, Danki Shimura, suddenly exclaimed—before anyone knew it, the archers of the Vermilion Bird Corps had already formed ranks, the arrows on their bowstrings gleaming with a ghostly blue light. They were armor-piercing arrows tempered with lightning-attribute runes, capable of penetrating three layers of iron shields.
"Preventing refugees?" Mito sneered, his hand resting on the scroll. "Then how come I received news yesterday that you sent scouts thirty miles into Konoha territory? Were you trying to find out if the Land of Fire was undefended?"
The soldiers outside the tent heard everything clearly, and many began to whisper among themselves. Sasuke Sarutobi felt a cold sweat break out on his back as he scanned his troops—the 80,000-strong army appeared formidable, but half of them were hastily assembled; the truly capable elites had long been hidden in the rear, ready to be plundered when the Land of Fire was vulnerable. In contrast, the Vermilion Bird Corps before him had every soldier with a gleaming Forehead Protector, and calloused skin beneath their armor—clearly ruthless characters who had survived countless battles.
" Lady Mito, you've misunderstood! It's all because the men are ignorant!" Sasuke Sarutobi suddenly raised his voice, turning back to glare at Danki Shimura, "Why aren't you having the brothers retreat two hundred li? Don't alarm the people of Konoha!"
Danki Shimura's eyes widened. "Sir! We brought 80,000 men, and they only have 10,000—"
"Shut up!" Sasuke Sarutobi kicked him in the butt, his voice trembling. "Didn't you hear what Lady Mito said? Retreat! Retreat!"
The soldiers stirred. Someone took the first step, and the once orderly formation instantly descended into chaos. Some threw down their longswords and fled, others turned and ran, some even shouting as they ran, " The Konoha ninjas know sorcery! Run!" Sasuke Sarutobi, watching this disintegration, felt his vision blur—he never imagined that his meticulously planned "border deterrence" would turn into such a joke.
"Where is General Sarutobi heading?" Mito's voice came from behind. "Why don't you stay for a cup of tea? There's some wild boar stewing on the stove of my Vermilion Bird Corps."
Sasuke Sarutobi didn't dare turn around, nearly falling off his horse as he mounted. He heard the Vermilion Bird Corps's laughter behind him, someone shouting, " Sasuke Sarutobi is a coward! Eighty thousand soldiers ran away without uttering a sound!" Sasuke Sarutobi felt his blood rush to his head, but he gritted his teeth and dared not turn around—he saw that Mito's guards had already pulled out scrolls, containing the Uzumaki Clan's secret Sealing Jutsu. If a fight broke out, his men would definitely be wiped out.
As night fell, Sasuke Sarutobi's remaining troops finally set up camp at the foot of Snake Mountain. He sat by the campfire, listening to the distant commotion—it was Konoha scouts patrolling and insulting them.
"My lord, why should we retreat?" The Utatane Clan, wrapped in a blanket, looked utterly bewildered. "We have an army of 80,000, why should we be afraid of a few thousand of them?"
Sasuke Sarutobi stared at the flickering flames, suddenly recalling years ago when he was still Konoha Ninja and had accompanied Lord Hashirama on a mission. Back then, Tsubasa had said, "A true strongman isn't defined by how many people you can kill, but by how many people you can save." But now, looking at these shivering soldiers, he suddenly felt that Hashirama's words were like a thorn, piercing his heart with pain.
"Because we can't win." He finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "Every soldier in the Vermilion Bird Corps could take on ten of us one-on-one. Besides..." He looked towards Konoha, where countless warm yellow lights shone, " Konoha has rune-inscribed houses, endless food, and advanced rune-inscribed armor. What about us? We haven't even gathered enough winter armor. What are we going to fight with?"
The clan chiefs all fell silent. One of them sighed, "I've heard that Konoha has undergone tremendous development and change. Everyone eats well and lives well. We shouldn't have impulsively left Konoha. The Land of Land of Rice Fields isn't rich in resources; many people are still digging for wild vegetables in the mountains to eat..."
Sasuke Sarutobi stood up, brushing the snow off his backside. He angrily said, "It's no use regretting it now. Many people ran back to the village, but the Tsubasa refused them entry—" He touched the jade pendant at his waist, the token identifying him as the Shogun of the Land of Rice Fields after leaving Konoha. He suddenly remembered the look Mito had given him this morning when they retreated—there was no contempt in that look, only pity, like looking at a clown who had tried to steal a chicken but ended up losing more than he gained.
The snow fell heavier and heavier. He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and heard his own voice shatter into dust in the wind and snow. "Pass down the order: break camp first thing tomorrow morning. Return to the Land of Rice Fields... let's celebrate the New Year."
The campfire flickered in the snowy night, mirroring Sasuke Sarutobi's thoughts. He knew that from this day forward, the name " Sasuke Sarutobi " would no longer be synonymous with "a remarkable ninja" in the eyes of the Konoha people, but rather with a coward who retreated in the face of battle. But more than the reputation of a coward, he feared seeing 80,000 ninjas die in the snowy fields of a foreign land—after all, although he had betrayed Konoha, he had not forgotten that he had once been a ninja of Konoha.