Through Shisui's explanation, Uchiha Yuan gained a clear understanding of Iwagakure's recent movements.
In the aftermath of the Nine-Tails' Night and the death of the Fourth Hokage, the Stone Village had launched several massive offensives—pushing Konoha's armies completely out of the Land of Grass and even breaching the Fire Country's borders.
Among their forces, Iwa's Explosion Corps had been the most devastating, leaving trails of ruin and countless Konoha casualties in their wake.
But after reinforcements arrived from the Leaf, the tide began to turn. A prolonged, grueling series of battles raged for days, finally forcing the Stone armies back across the border.
It was during those very battles that Shisui first made his name—his speed and precision earning him the title Shisui of the Body Flicker.
Now, with Iwagakure pushed out of the Fire Country, the conflict had cooled into an uneasy stalemate. Yet peace was far from true—skirmishes and assassinations flared up constantly across the Land of Grass.
Small Iwa teams continued to slip across the border, looting supplies, raiding villages, and fighting Konoha patrols. Their clashes with Grass, Rain, and even Waterfall shinobi had plunged the entire nation into chaos.
Yuan listened in silence, then asked, "Shisui—has Iwa's Jinchūriki appeared at all?"
Shisui shook his head. "No. And that's precisely what worries us. The longer they stay hidden, the more dangerous they become."
The absence of a Jinchūriki only meant Iwagakure was holding something in reserve—and that made Konoha's commanders uneasy.
Meanwhile, in another tent, Yamanaka Mokuno and Akimichi Kai sat across from Yamanaka Haiichi. The elder's sharp gaze lingered on them as he questioned them about Yuan's conduct and conversations.
But when Mokuno mentioned some of Yuan's candid remarks about the Third Hokage and the village leadership, Haiichi frowned deeply.
"I didn't expect Uchiha Yuan to have that kind of insight."
Kai blinked, surprised. "Uncle Haiichi… you mean, what Lord Yuan said about Lord Third—is it true?"
Haiichi waved a hand. "Not necessarily. Some of his views aren't wrong, but whether they're right… that's another matter. In any case, keep those opinions to yourselves. The less said outside this tent, the better."
Mokuno nodded quickly. "Of course, sir. We were only talking privately."
When the two had left, Haiichi sat back, expression unreadable.
Quietly, he murmured to himself, "So even someone like him can see it… Is this what drove White Fang to his death? Maybe we weren't the only ones who saw through the hypocrisy of our own leadership."
He sighed. "But I wonder—is this just Uchiha Yuan's view… or the Uchiha clan's?"
Seven days passed since Yuan's arrival at the Iwa front. The battlefield remained eerily calm—no major battles, no movements.
On the third day, Shisui had already departed on a covert mission into the Land of Earth. Yuan, meanwhile, grew restless.
That morning, he entered the command tent, bowing respectfully. "Lord Shisho, do you have any assignments for me?"
Mitokado Shisho smiled faintly. "Impatient already, Captain Yuan?"
He'd been keeping an eye on Yuan these past days. Though his manner was cool and reserved, the young Uchiha lacked the arrogance typical of his clan—a quiet steadiness that set him apart.
Yuan nodded. "Compared to Cloud, Iwa's gone strangely quiet. I hear the Land of Grass is… lively. I'd like to see for myself."
Shisho gave a tired sigh. "You're not wrong. Iwa squads, Rain shinobi, and even Takigakure forces are raiding everywhere. Kusagakure has sent several pleas for help."
Yuan didn't ask why Konoha hadn't answered. He already knew the reason.
A weak Kusagakure was easier to control.
"I'll go in person," he said simply. "If we keep ignoring them, their resentment might grow—and resentment toward Konoha breeds instability."
Shisho exchanged a brief glance with Haiichi, then nodded. "Very well. You're authorized to represent Konoha. Proceed as you see fit."
Haiichi added seriously, "If you encounter Rain shinobi, Captain, remember this—either eliminate all of them, or don't touch them at all."
Yuan raised a brow. "Because of their leader—the so-called demigod, Hanzo the Salamander?"
"Exactly," Shisho said gravely. "Since the days of the First Hokage, only one man has ever been called a god in the shinobi world—and it's him. Even Lord Jiraiya and the Sannin together couldn't defeat him."
Haiichi nodded. "Since the Third Shinobi War, Amegakure has stayed neutral. If Hanzo were to declare war on Konoha, this entire fragile balance would collapse overnight. Iwa would attack again—and Cloud might follow."
"I understand," Yuan replied.
Kusagakure.
Once a quiet village, now a scarred land of smoke and pain. Positioned between Fire and Earth, the Grass shinobi had become the unwilling punching bag of both sides—and with the Rain and Waterfall villages also raiding, they were fighting on every front.
Within the village, the wounded lay everywhere.
Lacking proper medical-nin, Kusagakure relied on ordinary doctors and crude herbal remedies. The air was thick with the bitter stench of boiled medicine that hung over the entire settlement like a fog.
But for the village's upper ranks, healing had ceased to be a problem—because they had found another way.
From a large building at the village center came the sound of coarse laughter and harsh voices.
"Next! Hurry up!"
"Come on, woman, smile! You should be proud—you're serving the village."
"If you die, we'll just take your daughter instead… though a baby might not last long, huh?"
A group of injured Grass shinobi lounged on their beds, faces twisted with hunger and desire as they stared toward the center of the room.
There, a young woman with vivid red hair sat between two beds, her expression pale and hollow.
Each of the wounded men gripped one of her arms—fangs buried into her skin.
As they drank, color returned to their faces, wounds closing rapidly as the girl's own face contorted in pain.
A murmur rippled through the room.
"Incredible… she really is a treasure."
"Haha, every time I see it, it's a miracle."
"Who'd have thought bringing her here would save us all?"
The stench of blood mingled with the smell of herbs, filling the air with something both revolting and tragic.
Some people die… but they're never truly gone.
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