At the same time, deep within the mountain forests somewhere inside the Land of Lightning.
Shinichi's unit, having just completed its second raid on Kumogakure and successfully withdrawn in full, was carrying out a brief period of rest within a relatively concealed woodland area.
No one spoke.
The only sounds were suppressed breathing, the occasional gulp of water, and the rustling whisper of mountain winds brushing through the treetops. Everyone seized this precious interval to recover their stamina and chakra, bandage wounds, and inspect their ninja tools.
"Shinichi."
Yūhi Shinku stepped forward. After hesitating for a moment, he lowered his voice and asked: "Are we really going to attack the Land of Lightning's capital?"
On the surface, shinobi warfare supposedly operated under principles that avoided involving civilians.
Of course, most of the time, that was just empty talk.
But targeting officials and nobles—that was a genuine unspoken rule.
Especially a nation's capital, the Daimyō's residence, and the Daimyō himself.
As for those lawless bounty-nin and rogue shinobi, that was another matter entirely. They were already desperadoes to begin with. Rules meant nothing to them.
But ninja villages—especially the Five Great Shinobi Villages—were, at their core, military organizations dependent upon the national system. They had to abide by certain tacit understandings.
Violating them was equivalent to flipping over the card table every participant had silently agreed to play at.
"Senpai, do I really look like someone that impulsive?" Shinichi smiled faintly. In truth, he did not think much of nobles or Daimyōs at all, but this was still far from the time to commit an act that would outrage the entire world.
"We don't actually need to go to the Land of Lightning's capital. We just need them to believe we might go there. Even if they harbor only the slightest suspicion, they won't dare gamble on it."
"Wherever the enemy hurts the most, wherever they absolutely cannot afford to lose—that's where we strike. Not to truly occupy it, but to force their troop movements, to make them dance to our rhythm."
Shinku fell silent for a while, seemingly pondering Shinichi's words, before asking: "Then where are we heading now?"
"Still toward the capital." Shinichi answered immediately, clearly having planned this out long ago. "But halfway there, we'll turn around and head toward the southeastern coastline of the Land of Lightning."
Shinku frowned.
"That place... wasn't that where you previously judged—"
Halfway through speaking, he suddenly stopped, realizing he had just asked a stupid question.
A moment later, Shinku shook his head and let out a bitter laugh.
"I was too slow to catch on."
Seeing that he understood, Shinichi said nothing further and merely gave a slight nod.
"Take advantage of this time and get some proper rest, Shinku-senpai."
Shinku nodded. He asked no more questions, turned around, and returned to his spot, sitting down against a tree trunk. He looked as though he were resting, yet also as though he were mulling something over.
Shinichi also closed his eyes.
Leaning against a thick tree trunk, his breathing steady and posture relaxed, he appeared to be calmly resting with his eyes shut.
But deep within his consciousness, countless streams of information were currently converging into his mind like rivers flowing into the sea.
Isshin's shadow clones, operating under single-minded control, were silently racing across the vast lands of the Land of Lightning. Dozens of figures identical to him were scattered across areas ranging from dozens to hundreds of kilometers around Shinichi's main body, each sweeping their gaze over the mountains, forests, rivers, and villages below at maximum speed.
Within the depths of their eyes, glass-like radiance flowed silently.
Clear Insight and Flash Step were activated simultaneously, gathering every detail along their paths into view.
Shinichi understood that the core of blitzkrieg had never merely been speed.
It was precision.
Knowing where the enemy was, how many there were, which direction they were moving, and where they would go next.
Seeing before the enemy saw.
Judging before the enemy judged.
Acting before the enemy acted.
Finding the weak points or critical hubs in the enemy's defensive lines and achieving concentrated breakthroughs.
Speed was merely the outward appearance.
Precision was the soul.
And in this regard, Shinichi possessed an overwhelming advantage.
The combination of Clear Insight and Flash Step had granted him a pair of "Byakugan" that belonged solely to himself.
No hand seals were required.
No chakra consumption was necessary.
This ability came as naturally as breathing, as heartbeat, as instinct itself.
Whether he was awake or exhausted, fighting or resting, these eyes were always operating—always capturing, always perceiving, always discerning.
Both he and Isshin's shadow clones possessed these same eyes.
When members of the Hyūga Clan created shadow clones, how much chakra did their clones consume while maintaining the Byakugan? How long could they sustain it? What limitations did they have?
He did not know.
But what Shinichi did know was that his shadow clones had none of those restrictions.
Each shadow clone was equivalent to an independent sensory node, covering an area, scanning all activity within it, and then transmitting every piece of information back to the original body upon returning.
Dozens of shadow clones operating simultaneously meant dozens of "Byakugan" working at the same time.
What did that amount to?
It meant that he alone rivaled an entire Hyūga Byakugan reconnaissance corps. And even the chakra expenditure required to create those shadow clones was borne by Isshin's clone.
All Shinichi himself needed to do was process the information.
And under the enhancement of Genius and Clear Comprehension and Thorough Insight, the speed of his thought processes had long surpassed the limits of ordinary human comprehension.
The massive flood of information brought back by those shadow clones was rapidly filtered, categorized, and integrated by him like streams flowing into a deep pool.
Which roads had Kumogakure patrol squads.
Which directions held large-scale pursuing forces.
Which regions were safe.
Which routes were empty.
Everything was perfectly clear at a glance.
Shinichi remained motionless with his eyes closed, yet within his mind, an enormous dynamic map was rapidly taking shape.
...
Konoha's northeastern main camp, command headquarters.
The tent flap was suddenly thrown open as Shimura Danzō strode inside with several Root members following behind him, every one of them wearing grim expressions.
He did not greet anyone.
He did not even spare the others inside the tent a glance.
He walked straight toward the center.
The staff officers inside all looked up. Some subconsciously rose to their feet, while others froze mid-motion with their pens suspended in the air.
Elder Danzō had always kept a low profile and rarely came to headquarters. With the aggressive manner in which he had arrived today, anyone could tell something was wrong.
Nara Shikaku sat behind a desk in the corner, documents spread out before him. He lifted his head and met Danzō's gaze for an instant before setting down his pen and rising to his feet.
Picking up a document that had clearly been prepared in advance, he stepped forward and spoke: "Elder Shimura. Before departing to carry out this classified mission, Orochimaru-sama left behind a letter. He instructed that if Elder Danzō were to inquire about the matter, this letter should be handed to you."
Danzō stared at him for two seconds before letting out a cold laugh.
"Orochimaru certainly plans ahead."
Expressionless, he accepted the document and unfolded it.
Silence fell across the tent.
Several staff officers lowered their heads and resumed their work, their eyes fixed on maps and documents atop their desks, not daring to look further.
Danzō stood there without moving, only his gaze slowly traveling across the page.
No one knew what was written in that letter.
But Danzō's expression gradually darkened little by little.
"Good! Very good!"
After finishing it, Danzō violently crumpled the letter into a ball and slammed it onto the nearby desk, his voice exploding throughout headquarters.
"That Orochimaru! What does he take this war for? His personal laboratory?!"
"He's completely lawless! Utterly without discipline! Such a massive operation, and he discussed it with no one, reported nothing to the village, didn't even inform me beforehand! Does he still have Konoha in his eyes at all?! Does he still respect the rules?!"
No one inside the tent dared answer him.
Even their breathing became quieter.
After venting his fury, Danzō did not continue shouting. He took a deep breath, suddenly turned around, and fixed a blade-like stare onto Nara Shikaku.
"But now isn't the time to discuss that! Since Kumogakure has begun retreating, that means Orochimaru and that brat succeeded in their mission to trigger the Eight-Tails' rampage and destroy Kumogakure's logistics and medical divisions!"
The moment those words fell, several suppressed gasps sounded inside the tent. A few staff officers exchanged glances, shock written all over their faces.
Kumogakure was retreating?
The Eight-Tails had gone berserk?
Their logistics and medical divisions had been destroyed?
This was no ordinary tactical victory. It was a devastating blow capable of shifting the balance of the entire northeastern front.
Even Nara Shikaku's expression changed slightly before quickly returning to normal.
He had long anticipated that Orochimaru and Higashino Shinichi's mission was no trivial matter, yet even he had not expected its impact to be this enormous.
Danzō paid no attention whatsoever to everyone else's reactions. He stepped forward and pressed Shikaku with an intense stare.
"A battlefield opportunity vanishes in an instant! Since Orochimaru and that brat have already kicked over Kumogakure's hornet's nest and forced their frontline main force to withdraw, then this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance!"
"Nara Shikaku! I want you to issue the order immediately—launch a full-scale offensive against Kumogakure!"
Shikaku revealed a troubled expression. After remaining silent for a moment, he shook his head.
"Elder Shimura, I do not possess that authority. The military command authority over the northeastern front currently belongs entirely to Orochimaru-sama."
"And furthermore..."
After a brief pause, Shikaku continued: "The news regarding the Eight-Tails' rampage and the destruction of Kumogakure's logistics and medical divisions has not yet been fully confirmed. At present, Orochimaru-sama and Captain Shinichi's unit have yet to return, while Jōnin Namikaze Minato was urgently reassigned days ago because of the Kirigakure situation in the southeast. If the Third Raikage turns around and attacks us again, then our forces at this moment—"
"This is my order!" Danzō's voice abruptly rose, cutting off Shikaku's words.
"I am a Konoha Elder. I have the authority to make tactical decisions during emergencies!"
"Even so." Shikaku still shook his head, his tone calm yet completely unyielding. "According to wartime regulations and the appointment personally issued by Lord Hokage, the only supreme commander of the Northeastern Army at present is Lord Orochimaru. Until he returns, issues explicit orders, or we receive a direct written command from Lord Hokage, no one has the authority to mobilize the frontline forces."
"That includes you as well."
After a pause, he added: "Elder Shimura, shortly, I will immediately have someone contact the village so that Lord Hokage—"
"And how long will that take?" Danzō interrupted once again. "By the time the message goes there and back, and preparations are completed, Kumogakure's forces will already have withdrawn from the Land of Hot Water!"
Hearing that, Shikaku shook his head once more.
"My apologies, Elder Shimura."
The atmosphere inside the tent nearly solidified.
The staff officers held their breath, not daring to make the slightest sound.
Danzō stared fixedly at Shikaku, that gaze cold and sharp as a blade.
Shikaku stood there with sweat on his forehead, his posture respectful, yet there was still not the slightest sign of retreat.
"Good. Very good."
Danzō coldly glanced at Shikaku. His lips twitched as though he wanted to say something, but in the end, he left behind only those three words before turning around and striding out of headquarters.
The tent flap was flung high into the air, and when it dropped back down, it let out a dull thud.
Several Root members exchanged glances before hurriedly following after him.
Silence returned to headquarters.
Shikaku remained standing where he was, silent for a moment before bending down to pick up the crumpled letter from the floor. After quickly scanning through it, he spoke: "Pass down the order. Have the reconnaissance squads immediately investigate Kumogakure's movements on the frontlines and confirm whether they are truly retreating. At the same time, contact every one of our intelligence outposts within the Land of Lightning and have them determine Kumogakure's actual situation at any cost. Also, compile all current intelligence immediately and transmit it back to the village as quickly as possible!"
"Yes, sir!"
...
With that brat's abilities, he should be able to return unharmed... right?
Danzō paced back and forth inside the tent, his footsteps hurried and heavy, each step producing dull thuds against the ground.
His brows were tightly furrowed.
His gaze shifted from the ground beneath his feet, to the tent flap, then back down again.
That brat had always acted with restraint. He never fought a battle without preparation.
Back on the southwestern front, he had single-handedly drawn away Sunagakure's elite forces.
And a month ago, when he faced the Third Raikage alone, hadn't he still managed to withdraw safely in the end?
But—
Danzō's footsteps abruptly stopped.
After suffering losses this severe, would Kumogakure really let the matter rest?
Would that reckless brute, the Third Raikage, swallow this humiliation?
They would absolutely pursue them at all costs.
They would absolutely blockade them like madmen.
And when the most dangerous moment arrived, with that brat's personality, he would definitely...
Make the same choice Sensei once did!
At that thought, Danzō suddenly raised his head, his gaze seeming to pass through the tent flap, through the camp, across mountains and forests, landing upon that northeastern land where thunder never ceased roaring.
For a fleeting instant, he once more saw that forest filled with killing intent.
Sensei's back faced him.
The figure grew farther and farther away.
Smaller and smaller.
Until it vanished from his sight forever.
A moment later, Danzō slowly and deeply inhaled.
His chest rose, then gradually fell again, as though he were suppressing something—or perhaps digging out something he had hidden away his entire life, something buried so long that even he had nearly forgotten it existed.
His expression returned to calmness.
A deeper calmness.
A heavier calmness.
Like the utterly motionless surface of an ancient well.
"Someone."
The tent flap lifted as a Root member quickly entered and dropped to one knee.
"Take thirty men and come with me."
"Yes, sir."
Three minutes later, thirty Root members had assembled.
No one asked where they were going.
No one asked what they were doing.
They merely stood silently beneath the morning light, awaiting orders.
Danzō said nothing further.
He turned and took the lead, dashing toward the northeast.
Thirty figures followed closely behind him like a silent undercurrent, quickly disappearing into the morning mist beyond the camp.
The wind swept past his ears, carrying the scent of grass, trees, and damp soil, along with the crisp chill unique to early spring mornings.
Danzō's face remained expressionless, yet his pace grew faster and faster.
He did not know what he was doing.
As a village elder, leading thirty men deep into enemy territory without a plan, without reinforcements, without even a clear direction or objective—
This was not like him.
He had always been someone who schemed.
Someone who calculated and weighed every outcome.
Someone who laid out plans from the shadows and let his pieces accomplish what needed to be done.
He never personally risked himself.
He never placed hope in momentary impulse.
But now, he was running.
And running faster and faster.
Morning sunlight spilled over the eastern ridgeline, stretching his shadow long across the vast earth beneath his feet.
He did not know what he was chasing.
Nor did he know what he was searching for.
He only knew that he had to go.
He had to!
Wind poured into his chest, carrying both coldness and something he had not felt in a very long time.
Danzō's breathing gradually became ragged, yet his steps never slowed.
Within his mind, scenes buried for decades surged forth like a tidal wave.
That night.
The Land of Lightning.
That forest brimming with killing intent.
In that instant, he had said nothing.
In that instant, he had done nothing.
And it was also in that instant that he lost something forever.
Something he had spent decades trying to recover through countless methods, countless schemes, countless transactions conducted within darkness—
Yet never managed to retrieve.
Shimura Danzō's pace suddenly accelerated once again!
At last, he understood.
What he wanted to bring back was perhaps not that arrogant, reckless brat at all.
But rather—
The young Shimura Danzō from decades ago.
The one who had stood within that forest watching Sensei's departing back, yet ultimately failed to take even a single step forward.
The self that had been trapped forever within that forest from that night onward, wandering there for decades, unable to escape no matter what.
The morning light grew brighter and brighter, illuminating the road ahead with perfect clarity.
Danzō suddenly felt his eyes sting slightly.
But he did not blink.
He simply kept running.
Running without stopping.
Faster and faster.
Toward the northeast.
Toward that land where thunder endlessly roared.
As though, if he ran fast enough this time, he could catch up to that resolute departing figure from decades ago.
As though, if he did not hesitate this time, he could bring back the person trapped within that forest!
Even if ahead of him still lay the Land of Lightning's forest overflowing with killing intent!
Even if this time, he truly were to fall there forever, then...
At that thought, the corners of Danzō's lips rarely curved upward ever so slightly, revealing a faint smile of relief.
Then...
He would go meet Sensei openly and honestly.
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