They waited in the underbrush.
Muzan crouched thirty meters from the Senju camp and watched through gaps in the foliage. Twenty shinobi moved between the lean-to shelters and supply crates. Most had gathered around a central fire where they ate from bowls and talked in low voices. Three patrolled the perimeter in lazy circuits that spoke of complacency.
These were reserves. Support personnel rotated back from the front lines for rest and resupply. They weren't expecting an attack this deep in Senju territory.
Muzan checked his equipment again. Kunai secured in the thigh pouch, shuriken in the hip pouch, explosive tags in the left chest pocket, wire coiled in his right sleeve. His fingers traced each item automatically, confirming placement and accessibility.
Beside him, Sayuri's breathing was too fast and too loud. Her Sharingan was active with the single tomoe spinning in erratic patterns that matched her panic.
"Control your breathing," Muzan whispered without looking at her.
She jerked as if he'd struck her, then nodded and focused on slowing her inhalations. The effect was minimal but better than nothing.
Amanai's hand rose in Muzan's peripheral vision and held position for three seconds. Muzan's muscles tensed. His heart rate was steady and his breathing was controlled. This wasn't fear. This was preparation.
Amanai's hand dropped.
They moved.
---
Naroi reached the perimeter first and appeared behind a Senju man who'd wandered fifteen meters from the nearest firelight. Muzan watched the tanto punch through the man's spine and emerge from his chest in a spray of blood that looked black in the darkness. Naroi caught the body before it could fall and lowered it into the shadows with practiced efficiency.
Muzan was already moving toward his own target. A woman stood alone near a stack of supply crates with her back turned as she examined something in her hands. He closed the distance in three silent steps and drove his kunai into the gap between her neck and shoulder blade. The blade scraped against bone as it punched through muscle and severed the major blood vessels beneath. She stiffened and her mouth opened wide, but he clamped his free hand over it before any sound could escape. He twisted the kunai and felt her body go limp against his chest. He lowered her to the ground and pulled the blade free.
Blood pulsed from the wound and soaked into the dirt.
Toshiro appeared beside him with his hands already moving through seals. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu."
Small fireballs erupted from Toshiro's mouth and shot toward three Senju who were standing near the eastern edge of camp. The flames struck before any of them could react. Two collapsed immediately with their clothes and hair igniting in bright orange fire. The third stumbled backward with his arms flailing as flames consumed his chest and face. His mouth opened to scream.
Amanai's shuriken took him in the throat and the scream became a wet gurgle.
The smell of burning flesh filled the air and made Muzan's stomach clench. He forced himself to ignore it.
From the north side of camp, Miyako's squad struck. A Senju shinobi collapsed with wire cutting into his neck so deeply that blood sprayed in arterial pulses. Another took a kunai to the eye socket and fell without a sound. The camp erupted as someone finally spotted the attack and screamed.
"Enemy attack! Uchiha!"
The element of surprise was gone and the Senju scattered like disturbed ants.
A woman with her hair pulled back in a severe bun spun toward Muzan's position. Her hands blurred through seals faster than he could track the individual movements. "Water Style: Water Bullet Jutsu!"
A sphere of compressed water shot toward Muzan's chest.
His body moved on instinct and he twisted sideways. The water bullet missed by less than a handspan and slammed into the tree behind him. The impact shattered bark and sent splinters flying. One piece grazed Muzan's cheek and left a line of hot pain.
Muzan threw three shuriken in a spread pattern. The woman dodged two with economical movements and deflected the third with her kunai. Her hands were already forming new seals before the metal clattered against stone. "Water Style: Wild Water Wave!"
A torrent of water erupted from her mouth in a wide arc that covered the entire space between them.
Muzan couldn't dodge that much water. "Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
The sphere of flame met the water midair and steam exploded outward in a massive cloud that obscured everything within ten meters. The moisture was so thick that breathing felt like drowning.
Muzan used the Body Flicker technique and his form blurred through the steam. He reappeared behind the woman just as she started to turn. Her eyes widened when she spotted him but her body was too slow to match her awareness. His kunai found her kidney and punched through the muscle with a resistance that felt like cutting tough meat. She gasped and her back arched. He ripped the blade sideways and felt organs tear, then shoved her forward. She collapsed face-first into the dirt and twitched twice before going still.
Through the steam, shapes moved in chaotic patterns. Shouting echoed from multiple directions. Metal clashed against metal in rapid staccato bursts. Fire and water techniques lit up the forest in bright flashes that left afterimages burned into Muzan's vision.
The assault had devolved into chaos.
Muzan spun and searched for Sayuri. She should have been on his right flank but the steam made visibility nearly zero. "Sayuri!"
No response.
A Senju man burst through the steam with a tanto raised high. Muzan brought his kunai up and the blades met with a sharp ring. The impact sent vibrations through his arm. The Senju was very strong and pushed down with his full weight. But his strength wasn't enough against Muzan.
The Senju's other hand came up with another kunai aimed at Muzan's throat.
Muzan released his primary kunai and dropped below the strike. The Senju's blade passed through empty air where Muzan's neck had been. Muzan drew a second kunai from his pouch and drove it up into the man's armpit where the armor gap was widest. The blade sank deep and the Senju screamed. Muzan twisted and ripped the kunai free in a spray of blood that painted his face hot and wet.
The Senju staggered back with blood pumping from the wound. He tried to raise his tanto but his arm wouldn't respond. Muzan kicked his knee and the joint buckled. As the man fell, Muzan's kunai found his throat.
"Regroup!" Amanai's voice cut through the chaos. "Don't get separated!"
Muzan turned toward the voice and spotted Amanai's silhouette through the thinning steam. Naroi appeared on Amanai's left with his tanto dripping steady streams of blood.
"Where's Sayuri?" Muzan called out.
"Don't know!" Naroi's head was on a swivel as he searched for threats. "Lost her when the steam hit!"
Muzan's chest tightened. She was inexperienced and alone in this mess.
A figure was forming seals in the steam to the east. Amanai's Sharingan tracked the movement. "Down!"
He tackled Naroi just as a wave of fire swept overhead. The heat was intense enough that Muzan felt his skin tighten and his hair singe even from five meters away. Trees ignited and the flames spread rapidly through the dry foliage.
"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!"
The technique came from a Senju man with gray temples and cold eyes who stood in the center of the burning camp. His hands moved through another sequence of seals with practiced speed. "Fire Style: Great Dragon Fire Jutsu!"
A massive dragon's head formed from flame and roared toward Amanai's position.
"Scatter!" Amanai barked.
Muzan dove left as the fire dragon carved through their previous position. The heat was so intense that the ground blackened and cracked. Two trees exploded from the rapid expansion of moisture in their trunks.
The Senju veteran landed between them with his katana already drawn. His eyes swept across the three Uchiha but never made direct contact with their Sharingan. "Uchiha filth came deep into our territory. You'll die here."
Amanai's hands moved through seals. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"
Multiple small fireballs shot toward the veteran from different angles.
The Senju's response was immediate and his hands blurred through defensive seals. "Earth Style: Earth Wall!"
A barrier of stone erupted from the ground and rose three meters high. The fireballs splashed against it and dissipated. The veteran's voice came from behind the wall. "Earth Style: Earth Dragon Bullet!"
The stone wall transformed as chakra reshaped the earth. A dragon's head formed and its mouth opened to spit chunks of rock like bullets. Each projectile was the size of a fist and moved fast enough to whistle through the air.
Amanai dove sideways and the rock bullets tore through the space he'd occupied. They shredded foliage and cracked tree trunks with impacts that sounded like thunder. One grazed Amanai's shoulder and tore through his jacket. Blood welled from the wound.
Naroi tried to flank while the veteran was focused on Amanai. The Senju caught the movement with his peripheral vision and pivoted smoothly. His katana came around in a horizontal slash that forced Naroi to block with his tanto. Steel rang against steel and Naroi was driven back by the superior reach and weight of the longer blade.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
Amanai's technique forced the veteran to disengage from Naroi. He leaped backward with impressive agility for someone his age. His hands were already forming new seals before his feet touched the ground. "Water Style: Water Wall!"
Water rose from the ground as the technique pulled moisture from underground reserves. It formed a defensive barrier that absorbed Amanai's fireball with a massive hiss of steam. The veteran had multiple nature transformations and the skill to use them in rapid succession.
His hands never stopped moving. "Water Style: Water Bullet Jutsu!"
Three compressed water spheres shot toward Amanai and Naroi simultaneously. They separated and dodged in opposite directions. The water bullets impacted trees and stone with enough force to shatter bark and crack rock.
The Senju pursued Amanai and his katana whistled through the air in precise strikes. Their blades met in rapid exchanges that sent sparks flying. The veteran was skilled and each strike was perfectly angled with no wasted movement or energy. Amanai's Sharingan tracked every motion and predicted each attack before it came, but the veteran kept his eyes averted and watched Amanai's shoulders and hips instead.
"You're good," the veteran said between strikes. His breathing was still controlled despite the sustained combat. "Three tomoe Sharingan and you're young for that level."
Amanai didn't waste breath on a response. His blade lashed out in a feint toward the veteran's face, then swept low toward the ankles. The Senju hopped back and raised his free hand. "Fire Style—"
Naroi's tanto emerged from the shadows behind the veteran and thrust upward. The blade punctured the man's thigh and sank deep into the muscle. The veteran gasped and his technique was interrupted as his concentration broke. Blood ran down his leg and soaked into his pants.
Amanai was already closing the distance. His kunai found the gap between the veteran's ribs and punched through to the lung beneath. The man staggered and blood bubbled from his lips as his punctured lung filled with fluid.
"Evil Uchiha," the veteran whispered, then collapsed forward onto his hands and knees before falling completely.
Amanai yanked his kunai free and spun to search for the next threat.
The camp had become a slaughterhouse. Bodies lay scattered among burning shelters and overturned supply crates. Blood soaked into the dirt in dark patches that reflected the firelight. Somewhere in the chaos, someone was screaming.
Muzan moved through the carnage and searched for Sayuri. His breathing was elevated but controlled. His muscles were starting to feel the accumulated strain of sustained combat. "Sayuri!"
A scream answered him from the western edge of camp.
He ran toward the sound and found her backed against a tree with two Senju closing in. One was a broad man with a scarred face and the other was younger. Both held katanas.
Sayuri's hands shook as she held her kunai in a defensive position. Her Sharingan was spinning but she clearly didn't know how to use it effectively. "Stay back!"
The broad Senju laughed. "Little Uchiha girl wandered too far from her squad."
The younger one slashed forward and Sayuri barely dodged. The katana grazed her side and tore through her jacket. She gasped and stumbled.
Muzan closed the distance at a run. The broad Senju spotted him approaching and turned with his katana raised. "Another one!"
Muzan threw four shuriken in rapid succession. The Senju deflected three with his blade but the fourth caught him in the shoulder. He grunted and his sword arm dropped slightly.
Muzan was on him before he could recover. Their blades met. The man was a veteran and his technique was solid. Each strike flowed into the next with minimal telegraphing.
The younger one turned his attention from Sayuri to Muzan. The katana slash came from an unexpected angle, but Muzan's enhanced reflexes let him dodge it easily.
Fighting two opponents simultaneously was different from solo combat. A normal shinobi would struggle greatly, but Muzan was backed by his demon physique.
The katana came down in an overhead strike. Muzan blocked it with his kunai. The younger one slashed toward his back. He sensed it more than saw it and rolled sideways. The attack missed.
Muzan came up from the roll and threw an explosive tag. It stuck to the broad Senju's chest. The man's eyes widened. "Shi—"
The explosion was deafening at close range. The Senju's chest cavity opened and blood sprayed in every direction. The concussive force threw him backward into a tree trunk.
The younger one hesitated for one critical second as he stared at his companion's corpse.
Muzan used Body Flicker and appeared behind him. His kunai found the gap between the man's neck and shoulder and severed the major blood vessels. The man dropped his katana and clutched at the wound as blood pulsed between his fingers. He fell to his knees and then forward onto his face.
Muzan turned to Sayuri. "Are you hurt?"
She stared at the two corpses with wide eyes. Her kunai fell from her trembling hand. "I... I couldn't..."
"Are you hurt?" Muzan repeated more firmly.
She looked down at her side where blood stained her jacket. "It's just a scratch. I think."
Muzan moved to her and pulled the torn fabric aside to examine the wound. The blade had cut through skin and muscle but hadn't penetrated deep enough to damage anything critical. Blood oozed rather than spurted.
"You'll live," Muzan said. He pulled a strip of cloth from his pouch and pressed it against the wound. "Hold this. Apply pressure."
Sayuri took the cloth with shaking hands. "I froze. When they came at me, I just froze."
"But you're alive." Muzan scanned the area for more threats. The sounds of combat were diminishing as the assault reached its conclusion. "That's what matters."
"I'm sorry," Sayuri whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Save it for after." Muzan grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. "We need to regroup with Amanai."
They moved through the burning camp and stepped over bodies and around scattered weapons. The smell of blood and burnt flesh was overwhelming. Muzan's boots squelched through mud that was more blood than water.
They found Amanai near the central fire with the rest of the squad. Toshiro was binding a wound on his arm. Naroi cleaned his tanto with methodical efficiency.
Amanai looked up as they approached. His eyes went to Sayuri's wound. "How bad?"
"Superficial," Muzan said.
Amanai nodded and turned his attention to the larger situation. Bodies lay scattered throughout the camp. Muzan counted them quickly. Seventeen Senju corpses were visible from this position.
Miyako's squad emerged from the northern side of camp. All five members were alive but two were injured. Miyako herself had blood running down her face from a cut above her eyebrow.
Kenozo's squad appeared from the south. Only three members returned. Kenozo was covered in blood that wasn't his own. His eyes held the same cold emptiness they'd had before the assault.
"Casualties?" Amanai called out.
"Two from my squad," Miyako said. Her voice was steady despite the blood on her face. "Both dead. We couldn't recover the bodies."
"Two from mine," Kenozo said. His voice was flat and emotionless. "The Senju cut them down when they tried to retreat."
Amanai's jaw tightened. "Everyone else?"
"Wounded but mobile," Miyako said.
Takeshi emerged from the smoke with blood splattered across his armor. "Twenty Senju confirmed dead. The camp is—"
A leaf fluttered down from the canopy. It didn't reach the ground.
Mid-air, the leaf disintegrated. It wasn't burned. It was cut and sliced into dust by unseen pressure.
Muzan's instincts screamed. "Scatter!"
He tackled Sayuri just as the air pressure dropped.
From the eastern tree line, a gale-force wind slammed into the camp.