The canyon walls loomed like stone jaws, the rising sun staining the rocks blood-red. I crouched atop a spire, Yukiko's chakra-sense map unfurling in my mind. Her latest creation, was a genjutsu that allowed to transmit information, rather than confuse enemies. Though complex, its effectiveness was unmatched. A couple of miles away, the next convoy slithered into view—larger, slower, flanked by six Iwa jōnin in full armor, and three dozen chunins.
Escorts. Predictable but annoying
"Three Earth-Style specialists," Yukiko signed, her fingers sharp. "Two front, one rear. Sensors… six. Chunin. Scattered."
I nodded. Iwa had learned. The wagons were spaced apart to mitigate blast damage. Oxen wore steel plates to prevent immobilization in case of precise shurikens or kunai. Genin marched in tight phalanxes, their kunai drawn in a defensive stance. But their greatest error was visible in the way the jōnin scanned the cliffs—around, not upward.
They expect a flank ambush, not aerial or subterranean.
"Phase One," I ordered via hand seal
Thirty Shimura clansmen, genins from the Shimura wind corps and the Shimura Kenjutsu corps, buried in the canyon floor activated their tags. The earth shivered, and collapsed.
Futon: Wind Burial Trap [B-Rank]
Using eight seals, I quickly took advantage of the surprise element to deal more damage.
A whirlwind of pressurized air erupted beneath the rear wagon, shredding wheels and oxen alike. The earth itself became shrapnel, pelting the convoy. Screams erupted as genin fell, their formation collapsing, useless against the jonin-level storm. The strategy was quite ingenious, and though I was proud to see it so effective, I could not help but feel something was amiss.
'Am I becoming paranoid?'
"Enemy jōnin engaging!" Yukiko hissed.
The lead Earth-Style user slammed his palms into the ground. A wall of stone surged upward, deflecting the wind vortex. His comrade leapt onto the wagons, forming hand seals—
Doton: Quaking Fissure [B-Rank]
The canyon floor split, but my clansmen were already gone. Relocated via pre-buried substitution logs.
Too slow.
"Phase Two," I signaled with my hands
From the cliffs, twenty Shimura Wind Corps members unleashed synchronized hand seals.
Futon: Shadow Shuriken Barrage [C-Rank]
A black cloud of bladed shadows rained down—but these were no distractions. Each shuriken carried a secondary tag: Wind Amplification Seals, and were coated in paralysis poison
The Iwa jōnin sneered. "Pathetic!" He slammed his hands together.
Doton: Mountain's Aegis [A-Rank]
A dome of stone encased the central wagon. The shuriken clattered harmlessly… until the seals detonated.
Fuuton: Gale Chain Reaction [B-Rank]
The tags erupted, each blast feeding the next, transforming the dome into a pressure cooker. The stone cracked, then exploded inward, crushing the wagon and its Earth-Style defender.
"AAAARGH", voices of trapped souls leaving for the afterlife escaped the dome
One jōnin down.
"Phase Three. Cleanse the ranks", I shouted, ordering the Shimura jonins to enter combat.
They followed suit, leading the chunins as a storm. Kenjutsu users targeted taijutsu specialist genins, wind-enhanced blades shearing through steel. Though elemental coating of blades were only seen in jonins usually, I had personally insisted in them learning the skill before the operation. Although not all of them mastered it, most could use it to some extent. Some jonins weaved together a Wind Cloak jutsu around themselves, turning Iwa's thrown boulders into dust.
I moved.
An Iwa chunin lunged, earth spear screaming. My hand flickered.
Futon: Vacuum Blade [B-Rank]
A crescent of condensed air severed his torso mid-leap. No theatrics. No wasted chakra.
"Danzo-sama! Rear jōnin!" Yukiko's voice crackled via ear-piece.
I pivoted. The last Earth-Style user had abandoned the convoy, charging toward our cliffside command post. A suicide run. His hands glowed with molten rock, clearly targeting me. It seemed he was a sensor too, and associated my chakra reserves with my position as a leader—a smart decision, I must admit
Katon: Volcanic Fist [A-Rank]
I was quite impressed. There was no doubt that his close-range attack was of A-rank, something that was not so frequent on a battlefield. This meant that he qualified as an elite jonin. Not someone of my level, but a strong one nevertheless.
I formed a single seal, exhaling sharply.
Futon: Heavenly Wind Snipe [C-Rank]
A needle-thin jet of air pierced his molten fist, burrowing through his eye socket. His skull burst like overripe fruit. Sometimes, the most lethal jutsu were not necessarily the highest rank ones. The Heavenly Wind Snipe was only C-rank, due to its low consumption, but the fact that it could be used with a single seal offered the opportunity to take enemies by advantage.
Shinobi wars were not so much of a combat of attributes that they were of strategy and skills.
Two jōnin down.
"Regroup! Secure the scrolls!" I barked.
The Shimura converged. A clansman sliced open a sealed wagon, revealing stacks of Iwa's encrypted missives. Another torched grain sacks with a wind-fueled fire.
"Danzo-sama—ambush!" Yukiko shouted.
The third jōnin erupted from the earth beneath me, hands clawed.
Doton: Subterranean Deathgrip [B-Rank]
I let him seize my ankle—then smiled.
Substitution no Jutsu [E-Rank]
My body became a log. The jōnin blinked, disoriented—as my true form materialized behind him.
Futon: Vacuum Sphere [A-Rank]
The orb of compressed air imploded his chest. This was my latest creation, an attack resembling the rasengan, but made of compressed air and exploding upon contact. He collapsed, a puppet with cut strings.
Three.
Again, the operation had been successful. The canyon stank of ozone and iron. Yukiko approached, her uniform pristine. "Scrolls recovered. Six encrypted. Three destroyed."
"Casualties?"
"Four genin with medium wounds, six light wounded. One chunin with fractured ribs from the large-scale doton attacks, but no fatalities."
"Good" I stared at the carnage. Charred wagons. Smoldering shurikens and corpses. A genin's severed hand still clutching a rusted kunai. Weakness, immortalized.
"Konoha's response?"
Yukiko's lips thinned. "The Nara pushed the front line five miles to the North. Hiruzen-sama…has yet to answer our call"
I scoffed. "The old man must have been deployed on another battlefield. Good, as long as he does not micro-monitor us, we can decide the battlefield's outcome to minimize our losses and maximize our earnings. Since Iwagakure will grow more cautious, let's give them a break. In the meantime, we will recover and train some more. There is a cave in the South. Let us wait here for a week"
My plan was en route.
And neither Hiruzen, nor the Nara patriarch, could decide otherwise.