They waited.
Muzan crouched in the underbrush and watched the Senju camp through gaps in the foliage. Twenty shinobi were there, just as intelligence reported. Most gathered around a central fire and ate. Others patrolled the perimeter.
The camp was temporary. Lean-to shelters stood among supply crates stacked haphazardly. Weapons were propped against trees. These weren't frontline soldiers. They were reserves. They weren't too alert.
Muzan checked his equipment one last time. His kunai were secured. His shuriken pouch was accessible. Wire was coiled and ready. Explosive tags filled his left pouch.
Beside him, Sayuri's breathing was too fast. Her Sharingan was active, the single tomoe spinning slowly.
"Control your breathing," Muzan whispered.
She jerked, surprised he'd spoken, then nodded and focused on slowing her breath.
Amanai's hand rose. It held position.
Then it dropped.
They moved.
---
Naroi was first. He appeared behind a Senju shinobi who'd wandered too far from the fire. His tanto was already in motion. The blade punched through the man's spine and out his chest. Naroi caught the body before it fell and lowered it silently into the shadows.
One was down.
Muzan targeted a woman examining supply crates. She was alone with her back turned. He closed the distance in three silent steps. His kunai found the gap between her neck and shoulder blade. She stiffened, her mouth opening for a scream that never came. He twisted the blade. She went limp.
Two were down.
Toshiro appeared beside him, hands flickering through seals. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu."
Small fireballs—each no larger than a fist—shot toward a group of three Senju near the edge of camp. They looked up as the flames struck. Two died instantly. The third stumbled back, his clothes burning, and opened his mouth to shout.
Amanai's shuriken took him in the throat.
Five were down.
From the north side, Miyako's squad struck. A Senju shinobi collapsed with wire around his neck. Another took a kunai to the eye. The camp erupted as someone finally spotted the attack.
"Enemy attack! Uchiha!"
The element of surprise was gone.
A Senju woman—her hair pulled back in a severe bun—spun toward Muzan's position. Her hands blurred through seals. "Water Style: Water Bullet Jutsu!"
A sphere of compressed water shot toward him.
Muzan's body moved on instinct. He twisted sideways. The water bullet missed by inches and slammed into the tree behind him. The impact shattered bark and sent splinters flying.
Muzan thought there was too much noise.
He threw three shuriken in response. The woman dodged two and deflected the third with a kunai. She was already forming new seals. "Water Style: Wild Water Wave!"
A torrent of water erupted from her mouth and swept toward Muzan in a wide arc.
He couldn't dodge that.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
Muzan's fireball met the water midair. Steam exploded outward in a massive cloud and obscured everything.
He didn't wait. He used Body Flicker.
His form vanished and reappeared behind the woman. She sensed him and started to turn. She was too slow. His kunai found her kidney. She gasped. He ripped the blade sideways and shoved her forward into the dirt.
Six were down.
Through the steam, shapes moved. Shouting echoed. Metal clashed on metal. Fire and water techniques lit up the forest.
The full assault had begun.
---
Amanai stood at the center of his squad's formation. His Sharingan was spinning. His three tomoe tracked multiple targets simultaneously.
"Naroi, left flank! Toshiro, suppress center! Muzan, Sayuri—hold the right!"
A Senju man charged from the smoke with his tanto raised. Amanai's hand blurred. Five shuriken flew in rapid succession, each angled differently. The Senju deflected three and dodged one. The fifth caught him in the shoulder. He stumbled.
Amanai closed the distance. Their blades met once, twice, three times. On the fourth clash, Amanai's eyes flared red. The Senju's movements slowed as genjutsu took hold. Amanai's kunai opened his throat.
"Regroup!" Amanai shouted. "Don't get separated!"
Naroi appeared on Amanai's left. His tanto was dripping. "Nine confirmed dead! Eleven still active!"
"Where's Miyako's squad?"
"North side—engaged with five Senju!"
Amanai's Sharingan tracked movement through the smoke. A figure was forming seals. "Down!"
He tackled Naroi just as a wave of fire swept overhead. The heat singed their hair.
"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!"
The flames came from a Senju man with gray temples. His hands moved through seals again, faster than most could follow.
"Scatter!" Amanai barked.
The squad broke formation just as another fire technique carved through their previous position. Trees ignited. The ground blackened and cracked.
The Senju veteran landed between them. His eyes were cold. "Uchiha filth."
Amanai's Sharingan met his gaze. The veteran immediately averted his eyes. He knew better than to look directly at a Sharingan.
Amanai's hands moved. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"
The Senju's response was immediate. "Earth Style: Earth Wall!"
A barrier of stone erupted from the ground and blocked the flames. The veteran's voice came from behind it. "Earth Style: Earth Dragon Bullet!"
The wall transformed. Stone reshaped into a dragon's head that spat chunks of rock like bullets.
Amanai dove sideways. Rock projectiles tore through the space he'd occupied, shredding foliage and cracking tree trunks.
Naroi tried to flank. The Senju caught the movement with his peripheral vision and pivoted. He drew a katana from his back. Steel rang as Naroi's tanto met the longer blade. The Senju's superior reach forced Naroi back.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
Amanai's fireball forced the veteran to disengage. He leaped back. His hands were already forming new seals. "Water Style: Water Wall!"
Water rose from the ground, pulled from underground reserves. It formed a defensive barrier that absorbed Amanai's fire. This one knew multiple nature transformations.
The Senju's hands never stopped moving. "Water Style: Water Bullet Jutsu!"
Compressed water spheres shot toward both Amanai and Naroi. They separated and dodged in opposite directions. The Senju pursued Amanai. His katana whistled through the air in precise strikes.
Their blades met. Once. Twice. The Senju was skilled. Each strike was perfectly angled with no wasted movement. Amanai's Sharingan tracked every motion and predicted each attack, but the Senju kept his eyes averted. He watched Amanai's shoulders and hips instead.
"You're good," the veteran said. "Three tomoe. Young for that."
Amanai didn't respond. His blade lashed out in a feint, then swept low. The Senju hopped back and raised his hand. "Fire Style—"
Naroi's tanto emerged from the veteran's shadow and thrust upward. The blade punctured the man's thigh. He gasped. His technique was interrupted.
Amanai was already moving. His kunai found the gap between the veteran's ribs. The man staggered. Blood bubbled from his lips.
"Evil Uchiha," the Senju whispered, then collapsed.
Amanai yanked his kunai free and spun, searching for the next threat.
The camp was carnage.