On the entire battlefield, Konoha had the clear numerical advantage. Under the sharp command of Nara Shikaku, the momentum had already shifted firmly in Konoha's favor. The Iwagakure army, battered and disorganized, was on the verge of collapse. It was no longer a question of whether they would retreat—it was only a matter of when.
The reason why Senmei Asahi dared to leap into the front lines and engage the Iwagakure shinobi head-on wasn't just because he had mastered the Flying Thunder God Technique. No, the far more critical reason was simple—Iwagakure could no longer hold on. Their strength was waning. And Asahi, with his foresight and tactical sense, could feel the shift like a second heartbeat in his chest.
Although Kitsuchi, the elite commander of Iwagakure and son of the Third Tsuchikage, was a formidable force in his own right, Konoha had Jiraiya—one of the legendary Sannin—and Namikaze Minato, whose sheer speed and genius made him a terrifying presence on the battlefield. The moment Kitsuchi used his ultimate Earth-style ninjutsu, the Mountainous Earth Technique, his chakra was largely depleted. Now forced into defensive footing against Minato's blinding attacks, his counterattacks barely scratched the 'Yellow Flash'.
Asahi watched it all unfold and immediately understood: Iwagakure would soon retreat. The repelling of Gamabunta—the massive toad boss from Mount Myōboku—was not a sign of strength but desperation. Gamabunta's movements had simply been too rapid for the Iwa shinobi to intercept. Their counterattack was a flailing attempt to regain tempo.
Among the Five Great Nations, each village had its own trump card—the Tailed Beasts. But in this war, few dared to release them against Konoha. The Uchiha clan was the reason why.
The Mangekyō Sharingan could suppress Tailed Beasts, a fact that Uchiha Madara had once carved into history. Even though no new Mangekyō users had emerged recently, no one could risk the chance that a three-tomoe Sharingan might still affect their Jinchūriki. Perhaps only Killer Bee, the perfect Jinchūriki of the Kumogakure, had the fortitude to ignore such threats.
That was why, despite Konoha's overwhelming strength, they could not afford to completely annihilate the ten thousand Iwagakure shinobi. Wiping out such a force would come at great cost—especially if Kitsuchi, son of the Third Tsuchikage Onoki, died in the process. No one could predict what madness might seize the old Tsuchikage then.
Even in a crushing victory, Konoha had to be cautious. Their remaining strength was needed to guard against other nations still lurking like hungry wolves—Sunagakure, Kumogakure, Kirigakure. Asahi understood this political chessboard all too well.
Now, surrounded by Konoha allies, Asahi fought relentlessly. With numbers on their side, he could fight freely. When wounds came—as they always did—he used medical ninjutsu to patch himself up and charge straight back in. Pain was nothing but a teacher. Every blow, every cut was another lesson carved into his muscles.
Then the sky changed.
A small black dot appeared above the battlefield, almost invisible at first—until the killing intent emanated from it like a spear of pressure. The dot expanded rapidly. Onoki, the Third Tsuchikage, had arrived.
When he saw the bloodbath below—his Iwagakure shinobi falling like autumn leaves—Onoki's rage could no longer be contained. No matter how pragmatic and calculating he had been in politics, Onoki still held his village dear. Watching his people die... it shattered his composure.
He flew over the battlefield, hovering above Jiraiya, his hands forming a precise seal. The air distorted.
Particle-style ∙ Atomic Dismantling Jutsu!
A translucent white light cube descended from the heavens.
In that moment, Namikaze Minato reacted instantly. He grabbed Jiraiya and a nearby Jōnin and vanished with the Flying Thunder God Technique, narrowly escaping the vaporizing blast.
But not everyone was so lucky.
The cube touched down—and erased existence.
Three elite Konoha Jōnin were annihilated, turned into nothingness. Not even their bones remained. The terrain around them was scorched into a perfect geometric cavity.
"Onoki!" Jiraiya hissed, eyes wide with fury.
These weren't ordinary shinobi. The ones who'd fallen were veterans—men who had survived a hundred battles. The void they left behind was not just physical, but emotional. This was war. No matter how many victories you won, loss was a constant companion.
Everyone had their justice. Everyone had their reasons. And in the pursuit of their village's future, even hatred became a tool of war. It was this endless spiral that Asahi despised the most.
Later, the world would be saved—Uchiha Madara would return, and Uzumaki Naruto would unite the Five Great Villages. Peace would finally bloom.
But Asahi didn't believe that peace was real. Not truly.
History—real history—taught that peace and war followed each other like the tides. Periods of harmony always gave rise to discontent, ambition, and eventually... bloodshed.
'True peace doesn't exist. Not in this world. Not with hearts like ours.'
Asahi didn't aim to change the world. He wasn't a messiah, nor a revolutionist. He had simply chosen his side. And as long as he lived, Konoha must not fall.
Onoki's arrival reinvigorated the Iwagakure forces. Their morale skyrocketed.
"Tsuchikage-sama!"
"He's here!"
"Long live the Tsuchikage!"
Hope surged through the Iwagakure ranks. With a single jutsu, their Tsuchikage had repelled the combined might of two Kage-level shinobi and slain Konoha's elite. Victory, once lost, now flickered into view like a distant torchlight.
Jiraiya clenched his jaw. Minato narrowed his eyes.
Onoki was not just strong—he was overwhelming. Even the Third Hokage would struggle to contain him. His Particle-style, a Kekkei Tōta, obliterated all defenses. It was a bloodline ability that ignored resilience, tore down the strongest armor, and reduced even legends to atomic dust.
Senmei Asahi's heart pounded as he surveyed the battlefield. Across the chaos, he saw Minato—poised, calm, and thoughtful.
'Minato might be our only hope.' Asahi thought.
Onoki could fly. He had aerial superiority, which made it hard for any ground-based ninja to strike him. But Flying Thunder God Technique had no such limitation.
Just as Onoki dreaded Minato's spatial teleportation, Minato had to fear the range and power of Particle-style.
What mattered now was creating an opening. Giving Minato the chance to strike.
Asahi's brain moved fast. He had read the original history. He knew Onoki's skills, his weaknesses, his limitations. He had information—perhaps the most valuable jutsu in any war.
'Konoha can't lose. Not here. Not now. If we do... everything changes. Everything.'
With that thought, Asahi clenched his fists, his chakra already flaring again.
He broke into a sprint, cutting through the chaos of the battlefield with burning determination, making his way toward Minato.
The next move had to be perfect.
And he would make sure it was.
*****
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