A hundred-meter wave roared toward the island with unstoppable force.
Behind it, the Leaf forces charged across the water.
No one in the column—not Uchiha Fugaku, not Hyuga Hiashi, not even the lowest-ranking genin—had fully processed what they were seeing.
Fugaku, a jonin who understood the cost of power, felt a complicated knot in his chest. He knew exactly what kind of mastery over Water Release was required to create something like that. It wasn't just about having chakra. It demanded perfect control over nature transformation. In his entire experience, almost no one in the current ninja world could pull it off.
At the Mist camp, the moment the wave formed, the detection barrier screamed.
Alarms blared across the entire base. Defensive barriers snapped into place one after another, wrapping the camp in a faint glowing membrane.
Yagura and Mizunotsuki Hiyori reached the edge of the camp at the same time and scanned the horizon.
"Looks like nothing's out there," Hiyori muttered. "Maybe the barrier glitched."
Yagura didn't share the optimism. Detection barriers didn't lie—especially not after registering chakra on that scale.
Then he saw it.
A strange bulge on the horizon. At first it was just a line, hidden by the vastness of the sea. As it grew closer, the shape became unmistakable.
"What the hell is that?"
Yagura's shout snapped Hiyori's attention forward. The moment he saw the towering wall of water, his face went slack with shock.
"A wave? How the fuck is there a wave that big out here? It's a hundred meters high!"
"Get every water-style user we have! Break that thing before it hits us or the camp is finished!"
Hiyori's voice cracked with panic. He was already issuing orders without thinking them through.
"You idiot!" Yagura snapped. "That's a Leaf ninjutsu. There are Leaf shinobi behind that wave. If you send people out now, you're just feeding them to the enemy."
Yagura was still trying to think, but it didn't matter. Raw power didn't care about tactics.
By now the rest of the camp had spotted the wave too. Panic spread like wildfire.
"Damn Leaf bastards!" someone shouted. "Everyone out of the camp! Prepare to fight!"
The order cut through the chaos. Mist ninja poured out of the ruined camp and formed up behind Yagura and Hiyori.
It took less than a minute. After two brutal defeats, only thirteen or fourteen hundred Mist shinobi remained. That included logistics personnel and the wounded. Actual fighters? Barely a thousand.
They were out of options. This was do-or-die. Even the weakest among them would be thrown at the enemy if it meant wearing Leaf down.
The wave grew closer. What had looked like a distant line now blotted out the sky.
When it finally crashed over the island, the roar was deafening. The remaining defensive barriers shattered like glass. The entire camp was obliterated in seconds—tents, supplies, structures, all swept away or smashed flat.
The Mist ninja who had made it out alive stared in stunned silence. Some were quietly grateful Yagura had ordered the evacuation. A wave like that didn't leave survivors behind.
When the water finally receded, nothing remained but a barren, stripped island. Even the grass had been torn away.
Both sides regrouped on what was left of the land.
The Mist forces knew exactly what this was: a fight with their backs to the sea. Their only way out was to drive the Leaf shinobi off the island and into the water.
Every Mist ninja's eyes burned red. They looked at the approaching Leaf forces like they had personally murdered their families.
Someone broke first. One Mist shinobi charged. Then both sides were running at each other.
The battle began.
Taiichi led from the front, moving like a blade through water. His target was obvious—Yagura, positioned in the middle of the Mist formation.
Taking out the future Fourth Mizukage here would be a massive blow to Mist's long-term strength.
Yagura, however, had zero interest in that kind of heroic last stand. He saw Taiichi coming and immediately started barking orders instead of stepping forward.
Hiyori, the actual field commander, was the one leading the charge.
It was the classic difference between "Follow me, brothers!" and "Go get them, brothers!"
Leaf's momentum was terrifying. They hit like a hammer.
Mist's resolve was real, but with their leader hanging back, cracks were already forming.
The distance between the two forces vanished in seconds.
Taiichi took the brunt of the opening salvo. More than half the incoming jutsu were aimed straight at him—fireballs, water bullets, wind blades, lightning, earth spikes. Everything Mist had.
He didn't flinch.
Two quick seals.
Ice Release: Heaven's Falling Canopy.
A massive circular sheet of ice dropped from the sky like a lid, smashing every incoming attack into the ground. The few jutsu that slipped past were casually sliced apart by golden flame slashes from his short blade.
Then he answered.
His right hand gripped his blade. His left flashed through three seals. Dozens of Phoenix Sage Fire orbs bloomed in front of him, growing hotter and brighter with every second—orange, yellow, gold, then searing white-gold.
The heat was so intense that even the Leaf shinobi behind him instinctively gave him space.
Fire Style: Phoenix Sage Fire Barrage.
At this range and speed, most Mist ninja didn't get a second jutsu off. They tried to dodge or block with weapons and bodies.
Those who dodged fast enough survived.
Everyone else died horribly.
Three thousand degrees of focused fire turned flesh to charcoal on contact. Weapons melted. Skin blackened and cracked. The ones who took direct hits didn't even have time to scream.
In one exchange, the front line of Mist collapsed.
Yagura saw it happening and finally realized he couldn't keep playing commander from the back.
Taiichi was already carving straight toward him.
Yagura met him with his iron staff, swinging down hard.
Three heavy clashes. Taiichi was forced back each time—not because he was weaker, but because a heavy weapon had the advantage in raw power against a short blade.
Taiichi adjusted immediately. His next attacks became light and flowing—parries, redirects, deflections. Yagura's powerful swings were guided away, his momentum stolen.
Worse, Taiichi was casting ninjutsu with his free hand while they fought.
When a wind blade skimmed so close it sheared off several of Yagura's spiky hairs, the small man finally backed off.
He put distance between them and started forming seals of his own.
Close combat was clearly not working in his favor.
Taiichi was perfectly happy with the change.
Yagura was slippery. He wasn't going to drop him in a few exchanges. If Taiichi stayed locked in a duel, he'd just be tied down while the rest of the battle raged.
Now that they were trading ninjutsu at range, Taiichi stopped holding back.
He answered with wide-area devastation.
Fire Style: Great Fire Annihilation.
Wind Style: Vacuum Serial Waves.
Water Style: Raging Water Chaos.
Every technique was large-scale and high-damage. He aimed them where Mist had the most bodies clustered.
Each one cleared whole sections of the battlefield.
Mist was getting hammered from two sides now—direct assault from the Leaf vanguard and constant area bombardment from Taiichi. Morale was cracking fast.
"Yagura! What the hell are you doing?" Hiyori's voice cut across the chaos from somewhere ahead. "Keep Taiichi busy! If you don't, the whole line is going to collapse!"
Yagura's face twisted. "Easy for you to say! Send me two more jonin! I can't hold him alone!"
It was true. Last time it had taken sacrificing Black Hoe Raiga just to escape. Now Yagura was barely surviving on his own.
But there were no spare jonin. Everyone was already fighting for their lives.
The stalemate didn't last long.
The first real breakthrough didn't come from the jonin. It came from the middle and lower ranks.
Mist was fighting with everything they had—desperate, backs to the sea. But desperation didn't always translate into perfect coordination.
Sometimes one small person was all it took to start the collapse.
Mizuki was a Mist medical-nin. Quiet, timid, and never meant for the front lines. She had earned her chunin rank through skill in healing, not combat.
When the war started, she had been pulled into the fighting anyway.
At first it wasn't too bad. Her job was still mostly treating the wounded. Then the defeats kept coming, one after another, and the casualty count exploded. She barely slept.
Now they had been pushed all the way out to sea, and the order had come down: pick up a kunai and fight on the front line or die where you stand.
No explanation. No mercy. Just a weapon and a death sentence if she refused.
When the hundred-meter wave had come crashing toward the island, Mizuki's legs had nearly given out.
She had charged in a daze, throwing kunai because that was what everyone else was doing.
Until—