Nobunaga took the list and glanced at it.
Third Division, reserve unit, responsible for supply lines and rear patrols.
It wasn't the front line, but it wasn't the safe rear either.
He nodded. "Understood."
The instructor left.
Tsunade ran over.
"You've been drafted?" Her voice was hurried.
"Yes."
"I'm going too."
Nobunaga looked at her and was silent for a moment.
"You don't need to go."
Tsunade glared at him.
"Why can you go and I can't?"
"Because you are the granddaughter of Senju Hashirama. You being alive is more important than being on the battlefield."
Tsunade was stunned.
She looked at Nobunaga, and there was a glimmer in those green eyes.
"Then what about you?"
Nobunaga did not answer.
He turned and walked away.
Tsunade stood in place, watching his back, clenching her fists.
That night, the nine of them gathered in the open space behind the mountain.
The moonlight was bright, and the statue of the First Hokage stood quietly there.
Might Duy spoke first.
"I've been drafted too. Third Division, with Nobunaga."
Yuhi Shinku said: "Me too."
Sakumo Hatake said: "I'm in the First Division, the vanguard."
Orochimaru said: "I'm in the Second Division, the intelligence unit."
Jiraiya said: "I'm in the Second Division, the combat unit."
Mitarashi Shishio said: "I'm in the Third Division, scouts."
Sarutobi Shinnosuke stood at the back, head bowed.
"I... I'm not qualified yet. They said I'm too young." His voice was muffled.
Tsunade didn't speak. She just looked at Nobunaga.
Nobunaga looked at them. Looking at these teenagers who would be on the battlefield tomorrow.
"Come back alive," he said.
Might Duy grinned.
"Of course. I still have to do ten thousand push-ups."
Shinku Yuhi nodded.
"I will."
Sakumo Hatake didn't speak, but he placed his hand on the hilt of his blade and gripped it tight.
Orochimaru pushed up his glasses.
"Interesting. Come back alive, then continue thinking about those questions."
Jiraiya was uncharacteristically serious.
"I still want to see what that world you talked about is like."
Shishio leaned against a tree, looking up at the moon.
"I promised my uncle I would stay alive. So I definitely will."
Shinnosuke raised his head, his eyes red.
"You all have to come back alive and realize our new Konoha."
Tsunade took a step forward and stood in front of Nobunaga.
"Promise me." Nobunaga looked at her.
"Promise what?"
"Promise me you'll come back alive."
Nobunaga was silent for a moment. "Okay."
Tsunade looked at him and suddenly reached out to hold his hand.
Her hand was small and warm, gripping tightly.
"It's a promise."
"It's a promise."
War is cruel.
He had seen war. In the first simulation, on the ruins of the Hidden Mist Village. In the second simulation, on the sands of the Hidden Sand Village.
But those were matters of another world. In this world, this was his first time standing on a real battlefield.
The Third Division's mission was supply line escort. It wasn't the most dangerous task, but it wasn't the safest either.
Kumogakure's infiltration squads prowled the supply lines like wolves, specifically attacking isolated Konoha Ninja.
When Nobunaga killed for the first time, he was calm. The man rushed out from the bushes, holding a Kunai, with a crazy smile on his face.
Nobunaga dodged to the side and stabbed his chest with one strike.
When the man fell, his eyes were still open, looking at Nobunaga, his lips moving as if wanting to say something. Nobunaga didn't listen.
He pulled out the blade and continued walking forward.
Behind him, Might Duy's voice trembled slightly.
"Are you okay?"
Nobunaga shook his head.
"I'm fine."
Might Duy looked at him, worry in the eyes beneath those thick eyebrows.
"You didn't even blink when you killed him."
Nobunaga didn't speak. He couldn't explain.
He had killed too many people.
In the first simulation, in the second simulation. He no longer trembled from killing.
But that didn't mean he liked killing.
Except for a very few perverts, no one likes killing.
The war lasted for half a year. In that half year, Nobunaga went from an ordinary Genin to a trustworthy Chunin.
He carried out seventeen supply line escort missions, repelled four attacks by Kumogakure infiltration squads, and killed nine enemies.
This record wasn't dazzling, but it definitely wasn't bad. When he was promoted to Chunin, the instructor said: "You are an excellent Ninja."
Nobunaga nodded. "Thank you."
He knew he could do better.
Wood Release, Mangekyo, Sage Body—if he brought out any of these, he could be the most dazzling presence on the battlefield.
But he didn't. He only needed to be "excellent." Excellent enough not to be ignored, but not enough to be targeted.
Those old people who survived the Sengoku era didn't need a genius, didn't need a tough commoner reformer with terrifying talent. What they needed were obedient tools.
Half a year later, Nobunaga was promoted to Special Jonin. Another half year later, he was promoted to Jonin.
This speed wasn't fast. Sakumo Hatake was promoted to Jonin earlier than him and was called "Konohas White Fang."
Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and Tsunade were also called the "Sannin," famous throughout the Ninja World.
Shinku Yuhi was called the "Red Sunset," Mitarashi Shishio made a name for himself in the Anbu, and Might Duy was still a Genin, but he could already open the Fifth Gate and was called the "Blue Beast."
Only Shinnosuke was still studying at the Ninja Academy.
And Nobunaga was just "that Jonin from the Senju clan."
Neither strong nor weak, neither good nor bad. No one noticed him. This was exactly what he wanted.
...
That day, Nobunaga received a new mission. Escort the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama, to the Kumogakure border to negotiate with the Raikage.
This was an important mission, but it was also a dangerous one.
News of the Kinkaku and Ginkaku rebellion had spread throughout the Ninja World, and no one knew where they would appear.
Nobunaga stood at the meeting point, waiting for the others. Then he saw someone. Shinku Yuhi.
Shinku stood there, wearing a dark Jonin vest, with a short blade hanging from his waist.
He was much taller than a year ago, and much thinner too.
The youthful air on his face had faded a bit, and he had gained more composure. Seeing Nobunaga, he smiled.
"Fourth Brother."
The two words were very light, so light they seemed like they would be blown away by the wind. But Nobunaga heard them.
His footsteps paused.
Fourth Brother.
That was the order they had ranked themselves by age among the nine of them.
Sakumo was the oldest, Shishio was the second, Shinku was the third, and he was the fourth.
Since taking that photo in the mountain behind the village that night, they had never called each other that again. War, missions, life and death had diluted these titles.
But now, Shinku stood before him, smiling and calling him "Fourth Brother."
Nobunaga smiled too: "Third Brother."
Shinku walked over and patted his shoulder.
"You've lost weight."
Nobunaga looked at him.
"You've lost weight too."
Shinku smiled, that smile containing both exhaustion and warmth.
"As long as we're alive, that's good."
They stood side by side. Sunlight fell on both of them.
In the distance, the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama, was walking out of the Hokage Building, followed by several Jonin.
Nobunaga looked in that direction.
"Is the Second coming too?"