On the carriage.
"These are Maruichi, Shuji, and Yukino!"
"Our squad has been together for more than two years now!"
…
Yamasaka Satoru introduced his three students to Shien. Judging from age alone, all three of them were a year or two older than him. But in terms of status, Shien stood on equal footing with their teacher.
Neither Yamasaka nor his students found this strange. Among ninja, only strength and rank mattered—never age. And it was taken for granted that geniuses received special treatment.
Just like Kakashi— A Chunin at the age of seven. Who would dare treat him like a child?
So for someone like Shien, already a Chunin in his teens, he was certainly counted among the village's elite—destined for a far higher position than this civilian-born squad.
"Senior Satoru, what's this caravan transporting? And where are we headed?" Shien asked about the mission details. The mission scroll given to him had been vague—probably a pretext to pull him away for capture—so he hadn't known the real purpose.
"It's supply cargo bound for the Fire–Wind border encampment." Yamasaka Satoru didn't bother hiding such a non-classified detail.
"I see." Shien finally understood why this was listed as a compulsory assignment. It was probably due to growing threats from Sunagakure—hence the urgency in delivering supplies.
Before, a single squad had been more than enough for escort missions. After all, roadside bandits were no match for ninja.
But now, things were different. They had to guard against sabotage from Sand shinobi.
Along the road, Shien learned a great deal from Yamasaka Satoru, the middle-aged veteran who had spent most of his career out on missions. The man's stories deepened Shien's understanding of the shinobi world.
It was far crueler than he'd ever imagined. Every day, countless people starved—or were killed. In places governed by ninja villages, there was at least some semblance of order. But in the small nations without them—chaos and famine reigned unchecked. It was hell on earth.
Shien couldn't help but conclude: The nobility of the ninja world were truly inhuman. With such underdeveloped productivity, those nobles still seized nearly all the profits, driving commoners to despair.
If not for his lack of a saintly nature, he might have gone to "knock on their granaries" himself—to teach them a painful lesson or two.
Nagato's future crusade against Konoha? He'd simply targeted the wrong people. Because the true roots of chaos lay partly with the nobility—and mostly with the Otsutsuki clan. The ninja villages were, in comparison, the lesser evil.
During the escort mission, they actually encountered several "dangers." A few so-called bandits—armed with nothing but pitchforks—had tried to rob them.
Shien was dumbfounded. These people didn't even wait for him to lift a finger. The moment they noticed the caravan had ninja guards, they bolted without a word.
That was the benefit of having ninja escorts. Without them, the cargo would've been looted long ago.
Even when merchants tried to curry favor with gifts and food, Yamasaka and his three Genin remained cold and distant—refusing to eat anything offered and even sleeping apart.
It was pure business: just an escort job, nothing more.
Shien understood why. During escort missions, maintaining vigilance and distance was crucial to avoid unexpected incidents.
After nearly half a month, their convoy finally reached the border camp between the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind.
This outpost existed to guard against Sunagakure's forces. A permanent garrison of one battalion— Three hundred ninja.
And that number referred only to shinobi. If it were ordinary soldiers, the population would've been in the tens of thousands. But in a world where ninja existed, common troops were meaningless.
The camp was built from massive stones along a mountainside, lined with watchtowers and firing slits—formidable and nearly impregnable. Even if surrounded, its defenders could rely on the terrain to hold fast.
Patrol units were sent out regularly, covering hundreds of kilometers to monitor for Sand incursions. For ordinary soldiers, even a few dozen kilometers was their limit. But for ninja, hundreds of kilometers could be crossed in two hours of full-speed travel. Thus, the outpost kept a tight grip on the entire Fire–Wind border region.
Lately, the once-quiet stronghold had grown unusually busy. Caravans and ninja squads crowded the camp— a fortress in all but name.
And amidst it all lingered a faint, heavy scent of blood.
Conflicts with Sunagakure had never truly ceased— but never before had they been this frequent. It was these ominous signs that had driven Konoha to rush reinforcements and supplies.
After turning in his mission report, Shien prepared to report for new orders. Just as he stepped out of the assignment hall, a plump boy—whose physique hardly fit a ninja—came running toward him.
"Shien!"
It was Honda Taka—his teammate and close friend. Their squad had made it here as well. Judging by appearances, they'd arrived quite some time ago.
Which made sense. Shien had been with the caravan, traveling at its pace. A ninja unit, moving on its own, could reach the border camp from Konoha in just a few days.
"How long have you guys been here?" Seeing his best friend, Shien suddenly felt a bad premonition. A freshly graduated squad like theirs shouldn't have been deployed to the border so soon.
"More than half a month," Honda Taka whispered.
"We've been on patrol duty the whole time…"
In truth, their squads had left Konoha together, but while Shien escorted supplies, his friends had come straight here to report in.
From him, Shien learned the true state of the Fire–Wind border camp.
It was dangerous—extremely dangerous. Even within that short period, there had been countless casualties. Honda Taka's own squad leader—a Chunin—had been seriously injured and was now bedridden.
As for medical supplies? Forget it. Such strategic resources weren't something an average Chunin could access.
Honda Taka had once carried a few bottles of potion—gifts from Shien—but they'd long since been used up. Medical-nin were present, yes—but too few to treat everyone. When casualties piled up, injured shinobi simply had to wait their turn.
"So your squad's been out patrolling without a leader…?" Shien frowned. That meant if they ran into a Sand ninja team, their fate would depend purely on luck.
"Yeah… anyway, I gotta go." Honda Taka saw his teammates waving him over and turned to leave.
"Wait." Shien stopped him, quietly pulling out a few vials—healing potion (diluted) and antidotes—discreetly passing them over.
"Take care of yourself."
The bottles were unmarked save for carved labels, so there was no risk of confusion.
This friend had helped him a great deal in the past— for instance, collecting materials for the Clarity Elixir. How could Shien not lend a hand now?
Still, this was all he could do. He had his own duties ahead.
After completing the escort mission, he wasn't allowed to return to the village. He would now be stationed here, serving on the Fire–Wind front line.
But when he finally met the officer in charge of the camp— Shien's face darkened instantly.
Tab 66
Chapter 66 – Suppression and the Sand's Eruption!
Turningne Yasuke!
Shien hadn't expected the person before him to be the commander of this border encampment—the one in charge of the entire outpost.
In wartime, this position was a volcano's mouth—only the likes of the Sannin, the White Fang, or other Kage-level figures could hold it without being consumed. But in peacetime? Being the border commander was the perfect way to build credentials and line one's pockets.
The Turningne Clan—the same family as Turningne Koharu, one of Konoha's "F4"—had once been small and obscure. But ever since Koharu had risen through the ranks, their clan had inflated like a balloon. Now boasting over a thousand members, they were considered a great shinobi family.
You only needed to look at how these clans of high-ranking officials changed to see how hollow that so-called Will of Fire truly was. It was just a slogan used to grind down the lower ranks.
Still, none of that had anything to do with Shien. The problem was—one particular thing did connect them.
The Healing Serum.
Turningne Yasuke also oversaw the Medical Division. Others might not know the details behind the new treatment potion—but she absolutely did. She knew exactly who had created it.
In fact, the entire distribution of the medicine was managed through the Medical Corps. She'd been trying for months to seize control of it, for that serum was something that could sustain the prosperity of an entire clan for generations.
Back when Shien had been stationed at Konoha Hospital, he'd received more than a few hints. If he would hand over the formula, he could enjoy the Turningne Clan's friendship and protection.
Like hell.
Shien had, of course, refused. The formula itself wasn't the problem—he didn't even care about that. The issue was that the special seaweed used as a base material required cultivation with his own blood. That was a secret he would never expose. So how could he possibly hand it over?
And just like that, he had "offended" the Turningne Clan.
Yes, in Konoha, when the higher-ups ask something of you and you refuse— you've offended them.
Fortunately, they weren't Danzo. They wouldn't just snatch it outright.
Still, now that he was under their command at that border post… they could make his life miserable whenever they wanted.
Now you understand why Shien's expression had darkened.
"Chunin Uchiha Shien, this is your next assignment." Turningne Yasuke handed him a mission scroll, her tone coolly
"official."
Unlike in the anime, no one here discussed missions politely unless you were a jonin—or had powerful backing. Chunin and genin were tools.
Especially genin— mere cannon fodder. Their deaths barely counted as numbers.
Shien unrolled the scroll. A patrol mission.
Except— This is a death sentence.
A flash of cold light crossed his eyes. Honda Taka's team's patrol routes were meant to monitor for Sand incursions. But Shien's "patrol"? It required him to penetrate westward—deep into the Land of Wind—to gather intelligence.
In other words, straight into enemy territory, where Sand ninja could appear at any moment.
By all logic, such a mission should never be given to a newly promoted chunin unfamiliar with the region. Yet they'd handed it to him anyway.
"Shien, you're a genius of Konoha," Turningne Yasuke said with a bright, false smile.
"This mission can only be entrusted to you."
Vicious.
She'd just used "genius" as the perfect excuse to silence all criticism. The reasoning even sounded legitimate— You're a genius, so you should shoulder heavier burdens. Otherwise, why enjoy special treatment?
Shien replied smoothly, "You flatter me, Commander. I'm no genius—Kakashi is."
He deflected the "title" without hesitation. He didn't want to be labeled a genius—what he wanted was fame.
Fame was what had forced Root to lure him out of Konoha before acting against him. If he'd been just another faceless ninja, they would have taken him down in the village without a second thought—they'd done it plenty of times before.
Inside Konoha, he might have to hold back. But outside? Just because his name was Uchiha didn't mean he'd inherited their habit of going soft when facing the village's higher-ups.
If he could strike first, he would. No hesitation.
"Well," Turningne continued lightly,
"if you're unwilling, I won't force you. There is another option—a support post in the medical ward."
She picked up a second scroll from the long table. The implication was crystal clear.
One mission was deadly, the other safe. Your choice.
Everyone knew which they'd pick— but there was a price.
The Healing Serum's formula.
She hadn't said it outright, but everything in her tone made it plain.
The anime had lied. In the show it was all passion, camaraderie, and friendship. But the world Shien had crossed into was black, deep, and cruel.
"I've had enough of the smell of disinfectant," Shien said flatly.
He twirled the scout mission scroll in his fingers, then turned and left.
He would rest for a day before setting out. It wasn't an urgent mission, after all.
To most chunin, it would be suicide. But not to him.
His combat power was already formidable, and with Taiyi and Chūbei—his two powerful Summoned Beasts—reconnaissance missions were child's play.
Especially Taiyi. The crow hadn't yet shown its true strength in scouting, but that didn't mean it lacked the ability.
With two familiars like that, Shien wasn't worried.
The next morning.
Leaving the camp, Shien formed hand seals.
"Summoning Jutsu!"
Caw! A massive, jet-black three-legged crow materialized before him.
"Let's go."
He leapt onto its back. Its sleek feathers shimmered, water-repellent and smooth as oil—ordinary people couldn't even stay seated.
But a ninja could. With chakra underfoot, even a sheer cliff face wasn't a problem— much less the back of his Summon.
Whoosh! Taiyi spread its wings and soared upward, cutting through the wind.
Aerial superiority— that was Shien's greatest trump card.
In the future, even the Akatsuki's Deidara had relied on flight to flatten Sunagakure and snatch Gaara away. Had he been forced to fight from the ground, even doubling their numbers might not have been enough.
"Move out."
At Shien's command, Taiyi banked toward the Land of Wind. At a thousand meters up, there was little to fear from ground threats— at least, in this pre-"cheat" era.
But just as he began to relax, Shien's eyes suddenly narrowed.
A distress flare! A Konoha distress signal!
He hesitated for a moment, then signaled Taiyi to descend for a closer look.
Moments like this made him envy the Hyuga clan. Their Byakugan was like a built-in radar— utterly unfair.
If only he'd been born with that bloodline…
Lowering altitude, he finally made out the scene below— a desert wasteland of yellow sand and stone.
A Konoha squad was fleeing across the ground, pursued by several Sand shinobi units.
Hit the jackpot.
That could only mean the Konoha team had obtained vital intel— why else would so many Sand squads be after them?
But when Shien's gaze extended farther across the horizon, his heart clenched tight.
In that direction— a tide of black figures surged forward like a pack of wolves, sweeping across the desert.
The Sand army.
To an ordinary army, even a single genin could slaughter a hundred men. So when thousands of shinobi moved together— that was a true army.
And the number in Shien's sight was far more than a thousand.
Which could only mean one thing—
The Ninja World War… had finally erupted.
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