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[Naruto : Yellow Flash] Chapter 501 - 505
🕑 Added 2025-01-29 03:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter 501: Mangekyō Sharingan!
The Kubikiribōchō shattered, and Biwa Juzo’s hands were severed in the same instant.
The entire event unfolded in the blink of an eye.
For those who bore witness, it was inconceivable. The weapons wielded by the Seven Ninja Swordsmen were forged from rare, specialized materials, designed to be far superior to ordinary ninja tools. Each sword carried unique abilities, and their durability was beyond question. Yet, even such a legendary blade was utterly powerless before the crimson sword hovering before Uchiha Yoruki.
No one could have predicted this outcome.
The first to react wasn’t Biwa Juzo or his comrades, Jinpachi Munashi and Kushimaru Kuriarare—it was Uchiha Yoruki himself.
He blinked, his crimson eyes narrowing as he beheld the destruction caused by his newly summoned weapon. The realization sent a chill through him: the red sword wasn’t just powerful—it was terrifyingly lethal.
“Ahhh!!”
Juzo’s agonized scream shattered the momentary silence. The pain of losing both hands twisted his face into a mask of fury and despair. It was impossible to tell if his scream was born of physical agony or the anger of his crippling loss.
For a shinobi, every limb was critical. Losing even one was devastating, but losing both hands was a death sentence to Juzo’s fighting prowess. His mind flashed to others who had suffered such fates—like Sarutobi Ao, who had been forced into retirement after losing the use of his legs more than a decade ago. For Biwa Juzo, the loss of both hands meant the loss of his identity as a warrior.
“Hiss...”
Nearby, Kushimaru and Jinpachi Munashi inhaled sharply, their gazes fixed on the fragments of Juzo’s beheading sword. The scene before them was unimaginable.
Their eyes darted to the red sword that hovered ominously in the air. Its aura radiated danger, and the longer they stared, the more their bodies tensed with dread.
Swish!
Without a word, the two exchanged glances. Then, grabbing the still-screaming Juzo, they retreated swiftly, their only thought being escape.
“You think you can run?”
Yoruki’s voice was icy, laced with murderous intent. Blood seeped from his left eye, its crimson hue intensifying the malice in his expression. His left Sharingan locked onto the fleeing trio, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through their desperate movements.
To him, their escape seemed sluggish—like insects crawling through molasses.
Zheng!
The red sword trembled in response to his intent, then streaked through the air like a bolt of lightning. In an instant, it appeared above the heads of the three fugitives, slashing down with unrelenting force.
Kushimaru and Jinpachi Munashi felt the chill of impending death. Instinctively, they dropped Juzo’s limp body and dove to the sides.
The sword struck.
There was no sound, no clash of steel. Only a flash of red light.
When the light faded, Biwa Juzo’s body lay in two pieces, cleanly severed. His face, frozen in shock and agony, remained fixed on his severed hands.
In mere moments, one of the legendary Seven Ninja Swordsmen was dead, his famed weapon destroyed.
Kushimaru and Jinpachi Munashi didn’t dare look back. Fear gripped their hearts as they fled in opposite directions, their only thoughts focused on survival.
“Jinpachi Munashi, you won’t escape your fate!”
Swish!
Yoruki’s figure blurred as he pursued Jinpachi Munashi, his speed outmatching the panicked ninja’s desperate flight. His voice, filled with unyielding rage, reverberated across the battlefield.
The Konoha ninjas paused mid-battle, their attention drawn to the pursuit. Fugaku and the others, who had been wary of Yoruki’s mental state after witnessing his father’s death, were stunned by the scene unfolding before them.
“Rekka no Ken —Strike!”
Yoruki’s left eye gleamed ominously as he locked onto Jinpachi Munashi. The crimson sword hovered high before descending like a divine blade of judgment.
Jinpachi Munashi’s heart pounded as he spun around, his instincts honed by years of combat. The explosive sword, Feimo, crackled with fiery energy in his grip. He swung it in a desperate counterattack, detonating the blade in a massive explosion.
Bang!
The shockwave rippled through the air, its force enough to uproot nearby trees and scatter debris. It was a gamble—a hope that the explosion would stall Yoruki’s attack long enough for him to escape.
But the crimson sword was relentless. It sliced through the fiery shockwave as if it were nothing, its blade unhindered.
In an instant, the Shibuki sword split apart, severed by the unstoppable force.
Jinpachi Munashi’s eyes widened in horror. The sword’s glowing edge descended, and before he could react, it cleaved through him from his left shoulder to his waist.
Blood sprayed through the air as his heart, lungs, and other vital organs were bisected in one clean strike.
He didn’t even have time to scream. The look of terror frozen on his face was the last expression he ever wore.
As the crimson sword retracted, silence fell over the battlefield. The death of two members of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen had left both allies and enemies speechless.
Juzo’s shattered Kubikiribōchō and lifeless body lay untouched, a grim testament to the carnage wrought by Uchiha Yoruki.
Even Fugaku, locked in combat with Terumi, couldn’t hide his shock. The intensity of Yoruki’s newfound power sent chills down his spine.
For a brief moment, Fugaku hesitated, allowing Terumi Ryoonosuke an opening. But Terumi, too, was distracted, his gaze fixed on the scene of his fallen comrades.
“How... how is this possible?!” Terumi’s voice trembled as his confidence wavered.
His cry seemed to echo across the battlefield, triggering a chain reaction. The clamor of combat quieted, and countless pairs of eyes turned to the remnants of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.
The sight left even battle-hardened shinobi like Shisui stunned. Though he had faced death countless times, the brutality and precision of Yoruki’s attacks left him momentarily shaken.
But as the shock subsided, a glimmer of hope emerged.
The deaths of Biwa Juzo and Jinpachi Munashi, two of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, were a significant blow to the Mist. Konoha’s forces, battered and bloodied, rallied with renewed vigor.
Yoruki, now standing amidst the wreckage, exhaled deeply. The madness that had consumed him moments ago began to fade. Blood trickled from his left eye as he wiped it away, his thoughts finally catching up with his actions.
He glanced at his reflection in a pool of blood. The intricate flame-like patterns in his Sharingan stared back at him, pulsating with an otherworldly power.
“This...” he murmured, his voice filled with awe.
In the annals of the Uchiha clan, few had ever awakened such a power. The Mangekyō Sharingan was a legendary ocular technique, reserved for those who had endured the most profound pain and loss.
“Mangekyō Sharingan,” Yoruki whispered, the name resonating in his mind like a chant.
Chapter 502: Uzumaki Water Blade
Mangekyō Sharingan.
The evolved form of the Three Magatama Sharingan—its activation marks the birth of extraordinary power. The Mangekyō Sharingan’s abilities are unique to each wielder, manifesting as formidable techniques that can reshape the battlefield. Even the two eyes of the same Mangekyō possess distinct abilities, each wielding unimaginable strength.
At this moment, the scarlet sword hovering before Uchiha Yoruki was a manifestation of his left eye’s Mangekyō Sharingan power—the Rekka no Ken (Blazing Fire Sword).
The devastating strength of this ability had already been demonstrated through the deaths of Biwa Juzo and Jinpachi Munashi, as well as the destruction of their fabled weapons, the Kubikiribōchō sword and Shibuki .
For the Konoha ninjas watching the battlefield, the tide seemed to have turned. Overwhelmed with relief, some ninja began cheering; others shed tears of joy, their emotions boiling over after enduring the oppressive weight of their precarious situation.
Yet amidst this jubilation, Uchiha Yoruki stood still, his fiery-patterned eyes filled not with triumph, but with grief.
The Mangekyō Sharingan awakens through profound emotional pain, often tied to unbearable loss.
For years, the relationship between Uchiha Yoruki and his father, Uchiha Yoru, had been strained. Differing ideals and cold exchanges had created an emotional rift between them. Yet in the final moments, it was Uchiha Yoru who gave his life to shield Yoruki, awakening this newfound power in his son.
This strength—this Mangekyō Sharingan—came at the cost of a loved one’s life. Yoruki could feel no joy from it, only an overwhelming sadness.
As sorrow churned within him, it began to morph into something darker: hatred. His eyes, glowing with the fiery patterns of his Mangekyō, slowly locked onto the remaining Kirigakure warriors.
The menacing aura radiating from him sent chills down their spines. What they feared most wasn’t Yoruki himself, but the scarlet Rekka no Ken that had already claimed the lives of two of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.
Swish!
Yoruki’s left eye glimmered with renewed focus, and the crimson sword shot forward like a streak of light, targeting Kushimaru Kuriarare, who was locked in combat with Senju Nawaki.
Kushimaru froze, his eyes wide with terror as the deadly blade approached. Just as he was about to retreat, something unexpected happened.
Yoruki’s left eye quivered, his vision suddenly blurring.
Zheng!
The Rekka no Ken veered off course, slicing through empty air before dissipating into fading red light.
Kushimaru Kuriarare stood frozen in place, the fear still etched across his pale face.
Uchiha Fugaku, observing from a distance, frowned as he noticed the abrupt change. “Was that a Dojutsu?” he murmured, a realization dawning upon him.
“Yoruki… he’s awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan!?”
As the leader of the Uchiha clan, Fugaku was well-versed in their history. The Mangekyō Sharingan had not appeared since the days of Madara and Izuna Uchiha. Seeing the fiery patterns in Yoruki’s eyes confirmed his suspicions.
His heart trembled at the sight. While he was not envious of Yoruki’s abilities, the realization of the boy’s immense talent filled him with both awe and hope.
In this dire situation, where Konoha was on the brink of collapse, Yoruki’s power could potentially change the course of the battle.
Yoruki pressed a trembling hand against his left eye, waiting for his vision to clear. Once the blurriness subsided, he wasted no time. His resolve hardened, and he dashed toward Nawaki and the two Kirigakure warriors engaged in battle.
Closing his right eye, he focused solely through his left. The fiery pattern within his Sharingan flared once more, conjuring the red light of the Rekka no Ken.
“Rekka no Ken!”
The scarlet blade materialized, hovering at his side before shooting forward with lethal precision.
The blade surged toward Kushimaru Kuriarare, forcing him to retreat. This sudden shift in focus alleviated much of the pressure on Nawaki, who had been struggling against two foes simultaneously.
Swish!
Ameyuri Ringo, known for his speed among the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, barely dodged the attack. But her momentary relief was short-lived, as Yoruki closed the distance between them with blinding speed.
Though powerful, the Rekka no Ken required precise control, and the long-range attack had stretched Yoruki’s limits. Determined to finish the fight, he shortened the gap, intent on delivering a fatal blow.
“Thank you!” Nawaki shouted, a grin breaking across his face. With one of his adversaries distracted by Yoruki, he turned his focus entirely on the remaining opponent.
If not for his dwindling chakra reserves, he would never have been pushed to such a precarious position by two enemies. But with only one foe remaining, he regained his confidence.
On the other side, Kushimaru Kuriarare’s fear had reached its peak. Discarding all pretenses, he removed his mask, his hands forming a series of seals.
“Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet!”
A massive, roaring water dragon erupted from his hands, surging toward Yoruki.
“Clever,” Yoruki thought, instantly realizing the intent behind the technique.
The Water Dragon Bullet wasn’t meant to harm him. It was a gambit—an attempt to obstruct his vision and disrupt his control over the Rekka no Ken.
Swish!
Yoruki stepped to the side, his body becoming a blur as he dodged the water dragon with ease. Engaging it directly with Fire Release ninjutsu would have worsened his visibility, and he couldn’t afford to lose focus on his target.
Kushimaru’s ploy bought him precious seconds, but his reprieve was short-lived.
From Nawaki’s position, a powerful chakra fluctuation began to build. His hands moved rapidly, completing a series of seals.
The ground trembled as a torrent of water erupted around him, swirling with intense force. His black eyes turned bright blue, the water spiraling into a deadly vortex.
“Water Style: Uzumaki Water Blade!”
The spinning vortex engulfed Kushimaru’s remaining ally, pulling him into its chaotic flow.
Chapter 503: The Battle Turns Around
"Hua La La!"
The azure-blue water surged violently, forming a massive, menacing whirlpool around Jinin Akebino. The swirling currents seemed alive, binding the Mist swordsman in a relentless grip, rendering him immobile. Escape was impossible; the vortex held him in a deadly embrace.
“What… what is this!?”
Jinin Akebino’s expression twisted in horror as recognition dawned upon him. His trembling voice broke the tension.
“This is… the Water Style ninjutsu of the Second Hokage!”
His panic was evident as his wide eyes darted toward Nawaki, whose outstretched hands controlled the whirlpool.
At that moment, water began to condense in Nawaki’s palm, taking shape as it spun rapidly. Within seconds, the liquid formed into a crystalline, spear-like javelin of water. Layers of spinning currents spiraled around the weapon, each flowing in a different direction.
Despite the elegance of the technique, Nawaki’s face betrayed his exhaustion. His pale complexion revealed the price he had paid in chakra to execute this advanced ninjutsu.
Meanwhile, Jinin Akebino struggled fiercely within the vortex, his strength proving futile against the overwhelming force of the S-rank jutsu. He had recognized it immediately—an elite technique known to be the signature of the Second Hokage.
Minato had once said that Nawaki possessed the potential to inherit the legacy of the Second Hokage’s Water Style. And now, Nawaki was proving those words true.
With a determined leap, Nawaki hurled the water javelin.
"Whoosh!"
The projectile streaked through the air like a blue comet. Jinin Akebino, desperate to survive, finally broke free from the whirlpool’s hold and raised his blunt sword, Dontō, in defense.
"Boom!"
The impact echoed like thunder, sending Jinin Akebino skidding backward several meters. His sword trembled violently, cracks webbing out across its surface.
As he staggered, the water javelin found its mark. It pierced a small gap in his collar, the force tearing through his armor and severing his right arm. Blood spattered across the ground as the javelin continued, embedding itself into the earth and leaving a deep crater.
"Damn it! It’s not strong enough!"
Nawaki’s frustration was evident. Though his technique had caused significant damage, it fell short of finishing his opponent. His depleted chakra reserves had diminished the jutsu’s full potential.
Jinin Akebino clutched his bleeding shoulder, pain etched across his face. He understood how close he had come to death. If Nawaki had been at full strength, he wouldn’t have survived.
Swish!
Without hesitation, Nawaki lunged forward, kunai in hand. Though drained, his recovery had improved slightly thanks to the antidote, and he was determined to press the advantage.
The objective was clear: eliminate one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. Victory required dismantling Kirigakure’s strongest assets.
If Konoha could secure a decisive victory here, it would break the stalemate across other battlefronts, paving the way for triumph in the Land of Rain. With all four major ninja nations nearing exhaustion, this was Konoha’s best chance to turn the tide of the war.
Jinin Akebino, realizing his precarious position, retreated. His primary goal now was survival, not combat.
Meanwhile, elsewhere on the battlefield, Kushimaru Kuriarare was faring no better. Uchiha Yoruki’s relentless pursuit left him battered and desperate.
Swish!
The crimson light of the Rekka no Ken descended again, slicing through Kushimaru’s defenses. He twisted his body to avoid a fatal blow, but the sword still cut into his left shoulder, leaving his arm dangling by threads of muscle and skin.
Cold sweat drenched his face, but the pain forced him to continue moving. There was no time to stop—no time to hesitate.
Uchiha Yoruki, however, wasn’t unscathed. Bright red blood dripped from his left eye, and his vision blurred once again. He realized the strain of the Mangekyō Sharingan was taking its toll.
After a brief hesitation, he allowed the fiery patterns in his eyes to fade, reverting to the familiar three magatama. Clarity returned to his vision, and flames erupted along the length of his sword.
Though the Mangekyō Sharingan granted immense power, Yoruki understood the cost. His inability to fully master it forced him to rely on more conventional means for now.
Despite this limitation, Yoruki’s accomplishments were undeniable. Two of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen—Biwa Juzo and Jinpachi Munashi—had already fallen by his hand. With Konoha’s fortunes improving, he focused on maintaining the upper hand.
Swish!
Yoruki’s figure blurred as he closed the distance to Kushimaru, who, weakened and injured, could no longer escape.
Kushimaru spun around, swinging his remaining Thunder Fang sword in desperation.
"Clang!"
The weapons collided, sparks flying as fire and lightning intertwined. But with only one sword remaining, Kushimaru’s strength was no match for Yoruki’s unrelenting assault.
Yoruki flipped his wrist, delivering a devastating slash.
"Pshh!"
Kushimaru’s hand was severed, his weapon clattering to the ground. Before he could react, Yoruki struck again.
This time, the blow was swift and precise, leaving only a faint red line across Kushimaru’s neck. The life drained from his eyes as his body fell to the ground.
Another member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen was dead.
From a distance, Terumi Ryuunosuke, engaged in combat with Fugaku, witnessed the demise of his comrade. His expression twisted with disbelief and rage as his remaining forces crumbled before his eyes.
Uchiha Yoruki’s gaze locked onto Terumi Ryuunosuke, his scarlet Sharingan glowing with lethal intent. A sharp smirk curved across Yoruki’s lips, cutting into Terumi’s confidence like a blade.
Terumi’s heart pounded as he glanced toward Nawaki. The Senju had cornered Jinin Akebino, his kunai poised to strike.
"Pshh!"
With a swift motion, Nawaki’s kunai pierced Tongcao’s chest, ending his struggle. Blood pooled beneath the Mist swordsman as his life ebbed away.
Terumi’s eyes filled with rage and desperation. His clenched teeth dripped with blood as he barked a single, guttural command:
“Retreat!”
Chapter 504: A Tragic Victory
"Retreat!"
The single word spilled from Terumi Ryuunosuke's bleeding mouth, carrying both desperation and finality.
His strained voice echoed across the battlefield, and the remaining members of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist reacted instantly. Without hesitation, they disengaged from the battle and bolted toward the seaside, abandoning their fight.
This was the unyielding rule of Hidden Mist Village: no retreat unless explicitly ordered by the commander. Under the current circumstances, it was clear the rest had been yearning for this command.
Discarding their masks, they unleashed powerful Water Style jutsu to obstruct their worn-out pursuers.
Nawaki stood amidst the chaos, his hands trembling as he pulled his kunai from the chest of a now-lifeless Jinin Akebino. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his vision swam. He turned his bloodshot eyes toward the fray, instinctively searching for his next target.
But his body screamed in protest. He had already expended much of his chakra chasing after Kirigakure’s Jinin Akebino, and though his will urged him forward, his physical limits were undeniable. Yet, when he saw the slaughter of Konoha ninjas—his comrades, defenseless and falling one after another—something within him ignited.
Rage replaced exhaustion. Tears blurred his vision, but the fury in his heart burned clear. This isn’t war. This is a massacre.
Despite knowing that taking on another of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen was suicide in his current state, Nawaki roared and threw himself back into the chaos.
Uchiha Yoruki wasn’t faring much better. The strain of wielding the Mangekyō Sharingan had taken its toll, leaving him barely standing. Yet, when he saw Nawaki’s resolve, Yoruki forced himself to move. He gritted his teeth and charged into the fray, his crimson eyes locking onto his targets.
Elsewhere, Uchiha Fugaku was locked in a fierce battle with Terumi Ryūnosuke. Anger fueled his every strike as he relentlessly pressured his opponent.
"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Song Technique!"
From Fugaku’s mouth erupted a torrent of flames, weaving into dragon-like forms that encircled Terumi, cutting off any escape routes.
"Lava Style: Dissolving Mist Technique!"
Terumi spat forth a corrosive liquid that erupted into a wall of acid, meeting Fugaku’s fire dragons in a violent clash. Steam and smoke billowed into the air as fire and acid consumed each other.
Taking advantage of the diversion, Terumi turned and fled, his battered body vanishing into the mist.
"Kill them!"
Terumi's retreat signaled a broader withdrawal by the Kirigakure forces. But for the Konoha ninjas, this was no time for mercy. Fueled by grief and fury, they pursued their fleeing enemies with unrelenting determination.
Young Shisui Uchiha was among them. Though not yet a seasoned warrior, his speed rivaled that of most Chunin. The Sharingan in his eyes spun as he darted through the enemy ranks, his blade flashing with deadly precision.
"You little brat, die already!"
An enraged Mist ninja lunged at Shisui, clashing blades with him. The force of the blow sent Shisui stumbling back. Exhaustion dulled his movements, and even the Sharingan struggled to keep up.
The Mist ninja spotted an opening in Shisui's defense and moved in for the kill.
But before the fatal blow could land, a shadow flashed behind the attacker. Steel pierced through flesh, and the Mist ninja’s eyes widened in shock before he crumpled to the ground.
Uchiha Yoruki lowered his blood-stained blade and turned to Shisui. "In your current state, you’re nothing but a liability. Fall back."
Yoruki didn’t wait for a response. He vanished into the chaos, reappearing moments later beside another enemy ninja. Even in his weakened state, his blade was swift and merciless, ending the fight in an instant.
Nearby, Nawaki joined the fray, cutting down another Mist ninja with a savage swing of his sword.
The battlefield was a hellscape. Many of the Konoha ninjas staggered as they fought, their bodies barely holding together, but none were willing to retreat. Too many of their comrades had fallen for them to let the enemy escape unscathed.
The pursuit only ended when the Kirigakure forces reached the coastline. With chakra reserves depleted, the Konoha ninjas could no longer maintain their pace across the water.
The sea's surface was stained red with blood, and countless bodies floated in the waves—a grim testament to the battle's cost.
A few kilometers from the battlefield, a figure watched from the shadows. Sasori, the rogue ninja of the Sand, clenched his fists in frustration.
Damn it!
Sasori had spent days ensuring the potency of his poisons, tailoring them to weaken the Konoha ninjas. But the chaos of battle had diluted their effects, leaving his efforts wasted.
Now, he had no choice but to retreat. He knew that Konoha’s retaliation for this tragedy would be relentless.
Back on the battlefield, the surviving Konoha ninjas stood amidst the carnage. Their faces were pale, their eyes hollow as they gazed upon the bodies of their fallen comrades.
Uchiha Yoruki staggered, his legs buckling beneath him. Fugaku caught him before he could fall, steadying his fellow Uchiha.
"You’ve done enough, Yoruki," Fugaku said quietly, his voice heavy with sorrow.
Yoruki said nothing. His eyes scanned the battlefield until they landed on a mangled corpse—a familiar figure twisted in death.
Uchiha Yoruki’s typically stoic expression crumbled. Tears welled in his crimson eyes as the weight of loss finally broke through his composure.
The words of Uchiha Yoru, spoken just before his death, echoed in Yoruki’s mind.
"Arrogant boy, you’re always so reckless."
For the first time in years, Uchiha Yoruki wept.
The battle was over. For Konoha, it was a victory—a hard-fought and costly victory. But for those who had survived, it felt hollow. The price paid was far too steep.
Chapter 505: One Person Reinforcement
The horizon stretched endlessly, its fiery hues blending into the bloodstained coastline. The setting sun cast a somber glow over the battlefield, where the echoes of a brutal war still lingered.
On the shoreline, Konoha ninjas worked tirelessly, collecting their fallen comrades and assessing the aftermath. Despite their victory, no one smiled. The air was thick with grief and exhaustion, the weight of their losses eclipsing any sense of triumph.
Scattered across the battlefield were the broken bodies of countless comrades who would never return to the village. Among the survivors, the atmosphere was heavy with guilt and sorrow. Victory had come at too steep a price.
In the distance, Fugaku, Nawaki, and other senior figures stood silently, their eyes fixed on a lone figure kneeling by the mangled corpse of Uchiha Yoru. The man hadn’t moved in hours.
As the sky darkened, the grim task of cleaning the battlefield finally drew to a close. A Konoha ninja approached Fugaku, handing him the battle damage report. Fugaku accepted the scroll and unrolled it with a steady hand, though his expression betrayed his apprehension.
His dark eyes scanned the report, and as expected, the news was grim. Of the nearly two thousand Konoha ninjas who had fought, nearly half were dead. Many of the survivors bore grievous injuries.
Crack.
Fugaku’s fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white. The sound of bones grinding against each other was barely audible over the crashing waves.
Teeth gritted, Fugaku turned to those around him. His voice was measured but filled with steel. "Send this information back to the village. Tell them Uchiha Fugaku is prepared to accept any punishment. However, I have one request."
He paused, his Sharingan flaring with bloodshot intensity. "Once the war stabilizes, we must uncover the identity of the one who poisoned our troops. Issue a bounty with the highest reward—our clan will cover all costs."
Fugaku’s gaze lingered on Uchiha Yoruki, who was still kneeling by Yoru’s body. The complicated emotions in Fugaku’s eyes were fleeting but undeniable.
Meanwhile, in Konoha’s operations meeting room, a suffocating tension hung in the air.
The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, sat at the head of the table, the battle report lying open before him. His weathered hands trembled as he read, and when he finally set the document down, the table beneath his fingers quaked violently.
“Boom!”
With a sudden burst of chakra, the table splintered and shattered, sending shards flying across the room.
Mitokado Homura and Utatane Koharu flinched at the display of fury, their aged faces twitching in discomfort.
Danzo, seated to the side, remained stoic, though his calculating eyes gleamed with a hint of opportunism. "Sarutobi," he began, his tone deliberate, "while the losses were severe, this victory leaves Kirigakure in a weakened state. Only three members of their infamous Seven Swordsmen remain. This is an opportunity."
Danzo’s eyes glinted as he leaned forward. "We could redirect forces from Kirigakure to the Land of Rain. If we reinforce that border, we might finally break the stalemate."
Homura and Koharu nodded in agreement, their gazes shifting to the Third Hokage for approval.
Hiruzen’s face was a mask of restrained fury, but Danzo’s words struck a chord. After a long silence, the Hokage exhaled deeply. "Very well. Reinforcements will be sent to the Land of Rain."
He paused, his sharp eyes narrowing. "But only one."
Danzo blinked in surprise. "Only one?"
"Uchiha Yoruki," Hiruzen said firmly.
The intelligence report had highlighted Yoruki’s pivotal role in the recent battle. His awakening of the Mangekyō Sharingan had turned the tide of war, a feat impossible to ignore.
At the border of the Land of Rain, the war had dragged on endlessly. Konoha’s forces, led by Minato Namikaze and Jiraiya, had managed to hold their ground against formidable opponents, including the Four-Tails Jinchūriki, Roshi. Yet, even with their strength, victory remained elusive.
Yoruki’s Mangekyō Sharingan could tip the scales.
Homura nodded in agreement. "A single reinforcement would minimize risks on other fronts. Yoruki’s abilities should be sufficient to break the stalemate."
Koharu added, "With Minato’s Flying Thunder God Technique, he can transport Yoruki to the battlefield without leaving his own position vulnerable."
Hiruzen’s gaze hardened. "Inform Minato immediately. Ensure he understands the importance of this mission."
Homura bowed slightly. "Understood."
Danzo, however, was less enthused. His sharp features twisted in dissatisfaction. "What of Uchiha Fugaku’s proposal? Should we truly honor it?"
At this, Hiruzen’s calm facade cracked, and his eyes blazed with fury. "The individual responsible for poisoning our troops nearly wiped out an entire division. We will pursue them relentlessly. This is not a matter of debate!"
Homura and Koharu exchanged cautious glances. Hiruzen’s unwavering commitment to the safety of Konoha’s shinobi was both his greatest strength and his greatest vulnerability.
"As for Fugaku," Hiruzen continued, his tone softening, "he bears no blame. Instead, the heroism displayed in this battle must be acknowledged. The sacrifices made here will not be forgotten."
Danzo’s lips thinned into a line. "And what of Yoruki? The power of the Mangekyō Sharingan is no small matter. Its potential to shift the balance of power within the village cannot be ignored."
Hiruzen’s eyes narrowed. "That’s enough, Danzo."
The Third Hokage’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. "The Uchiha clan fought and bled for Konoha today. If we exploit this tragedy to sow distrust, we risk alienating every ninja who stands on the front lines."
Danzo’s expression darkened, but he held his tongue.
Hiruzen’s voice softened, but his resolve remained firm. "Konoha belongs to all of us, not to any one clan or individual. Do not bring this up again."
The room fell silent, the weight of the Hokage’s words settling over everyone.
After a long pause, Homura nodded. "Let us proceed as the Hokage commands."
Back on the battlefield, the bodies of Konoha’s fallen had been laid to rest, their comrades performing rites of farewell with solemn reverence.
Uchiha Yoruki stood alone, his grief etched into his features as he stared at the horizon. The blood-red sun dipped below the waves, its glow fading into the encroaching darkness.
