Raizen returned to the Konoha Alliance encampment with nearly ten thousand surviving shinobi, the remnants of the Jianren forces now under his command. The sight alone sent shockwaves through the camp. Tens of thousands of ninja moving under one banner was enough to make even veteran commanders nervous. If they turned hostile, it would be the end of the Alliance in a single night.
But their fears were misplaced. Under Raizen's personal supervision, every man was disarmed, screened, and stationed under Anbu surveillance around the clock. He trusted no one—not even the ones who swore loyalty at swordpoint.
After two sleepless days of restructuring and strategy, Raizen finally allowed himself a short rest within the Amamiya compound. Uzumaki Mito herself had arrived to train the clan's young shinobi in sealing techniques, and even in exhaustion, Raizen found himself pausing to watch her. She carried an aura of calm the rest of this war-torn era had long forgotten.
Still, peace was a luxury he couldn't afford. Within days, Raizen was once again on the move—this time leading two thousand shinobi to reinforce Aburame Shō's line, while Inuzuka Daisaku commanded three thousand toward another front under his clan's patriarch.
The Qishui Gorge, guarded by Hyūga Tennin and the entire Hyūga clan, remained secure. For now.
When Raizen arrived at the front, he realized how chaotic the situation had become. The Sarutobi forces had split into several strike teams, each attacking the Konoha Alliance from different angles. It was less a war and more a storm of blades—no single point to defend, no clear line to hold.
Raizen joined the fray anyway. He had expected a series of clean, surgical strikes—hit, fade, crush, repeat. Instead, he found himself drowning in the chaos of clan warfare, where plans lasted five minutes and corpses lasted less.
By May of the Warring States Period, Raizen led his troops deep into enemy territory, striking a major blow against the Sarutobi League. Victory should have tasted sweet. It didn't.
While celebrating the breakthrough, word came from the rear: the Sarutobi and Changjin clans had launched a surprise counterattack. The Alliance's central camp was razed, its supplies burned, and two-thirds of their stores destroyed. A forced retreat followed, a hundred miles back—proof that in this war, even victories bled.
In June, the Hashimoto clan fell in the northern territories to the rising Tojiu clan, shifting the balance of power. The Sarutobi immediately allied with the Tojiu, inviting them to join the fight against Konoha from the north.
Hatake Gintama led the defense with what forces remained, but they were spread thin across too many fronts. The Tojiu clan's invasion pierced deep into the Fire Country's center before anyone could stop them.
By July, Raizen countered with two thousand shinobi at the Mati Mountains, striking the Tojiu hard and forcing their withdrawal from the heartlands. It was one of the few moments that year the Alliance could breathe.
August brought no rest. The Uchiha–Senju war had reached its fever pitch, and the Senju crushed the Shimizutani clan entirely, claiming a victory that echoed across every nation. Hashirama Senju's name now carried the weight of a legend—at only eighteen years old.
In October, the Uchiha turned their fury upon the Ino–Shika–Chō Alliance, breaking them at Mount Aokaze. The once-proud tri-clan surrendered within the month.
By November, the Sarutobi Alliance was fracturing. The Tojiu suffered two devastating defeats at Raizen's hands and limped back north, abandoning their allies to their fate. The Konoha Alliance, though bloodied, pressed forward.
In December, as the year's final snows fell, Raizen and Aburame Shō prepared for what everyone whispered would be the last great battle of the Warring States.
The Konoha Alliance struck first. Raizen unleashed every ounce of his strength, coordinating with the other divisions to annihilate over three thousand Sarutobi shinobi. Hyūga Tennin's forces sealed their retreat route at Qishui Canyon, trapping them between chakra and steel.
When the dust settled, the Shimura-led vanguard of the Sarutobi Alliance was gone—wiped out entirely. Of their remaining forces, only six thousand of Sarutobi's personal troops remained from the original ten. The Tojiu clan had already fled north. The Sarutobi Alliance, once a storm, had become a dying ember.
Now, all that was left was the final battle—Sarutobi's last stand against eighty percent of the combined Konoha Alliance. Both sides gathered at the banks of the Mizunagare Slope. There would be no tricks, no treaties, and no retreat.
As the old year died, the battlefield waited. The new year would begin in fire.