Chapter 38 — The "Teetering" Ishigoryu Mountain Defense Line
Even between shinobi, terrain still matters.
Konoha's defensive lines along the eastern coast were all built around mountain ridges.
For ordinary humans, mountains might act as walls, but for shinobi, climbing them wasn't difficult.
Even so, choosing elevated ground wasn't meant to hinder physical traversal—it was meant to counter Kirigakure's Water Release.
Mist-nin typically used Suiton in two ways:
1. With a natural water source nearby, allowing them to manipulate existing water with minimal chakra cost.
2. Without a water source, forcing them to expend huge amounts of chakra to create water from nothing.
Thus, fortifying elevated terrain where ponds and lakes were absent forced Mist-nin into the second, far more expensive method.
On a steep hill, even water created through chakra couldn't pool, circulate, or be reused—raising chakra consumption drastically and shortening their fighting endurance.
However—
terrain's advantages were limited.
The moment the Mist increased troop numbers, numerical superiority smothered whatever benefits Konoha's positioning offered.
The defenders of Ishigoryu Mountain were learning exactly what it meant to be outnumbered.
They were forced to retreat step by step—from the foot of the mountain, to the slopes, and now all the way to the peak.
Any further and they would be pushed onto the mountain's backside, losing the last of their positional advantage.
If the peak fell, the terrain advantage would flip entirely.
Mist-nin would gain the high ground—and Water Release unleashed from above would become a catastrophic deluge.
On the summit, inside a crude clay fort, the last remnants of Konoha's forces were gathered for a morning briefing.
"We can't retreat anymore."
The sole surviving jōnin said grimly.
Before him stood only seven comrades:
Two special jōnin and five chūnin.
Counting him, they totaled eight—the final defenders of Ishigoryu Mountain.
Yet just five days ago, sixteen full squads—sixty-four shinobi—had been stationed here.
Now, many squads were utterly wiped out.
The rest crippled beyond functioning.
Only this final handful remained.
Their one saving grace was that the supply cache remained intact.
"If we abandon the peak, we'll be defenseless against their Suiton. Once they break through Ishigoryu, they'll spill into the plains and forests behind us… if the Mist-nin start raiding cities unopposed, even the daimyō's palace will panic—"
"They're coming up!"
The jōnin's speech was cut short by the Yamanaka special jōnin.
He turned stiffly, staring at his captain, whose attempted motivational words had been derailed mid-sentence.
The poor man now wore a constipated expression of pure despair.
The Yamanaka sighed.
"Alright, Captain. We've heard enough grand speeches. Anyone left alive at this point already made peace with dying. Save your breath for killing a few more Mist-nin to join us in the Pure Land."
"I… uh…"
The captain struggled for several seconds before muttering stiffly,
"Today… I'll kill at least three Mist bastards."
The Yamanaka glared at him.
"Three? Captain, you're supposed to say you'll take down ten to fire us up!"
"But Mist-nin are really strong… Saying three is already me deciding to take one of them down with me."
The captain sounded genuinely aggrieved.
Seeing their honest, helpless leader, the Yamanaka couldn't help bursting into laughter.
The others soon followed.
The heavy, suffocating atmosphere evaporated into something almost warm.
Just looking at their captain—a man determined to die properly—gave their morale an unexpected lift.
Not even twenty seconds passed before—
One after another, silhouettes of Mist-nin emerged into view—
more than twenty in total, advancing in tight formation toward the last earthen fort atop the mountain.
But before they could even step into jutsu range—
They were greeted by a storm-like barrage of shuriken raining down from the fort.
That alone wasn't the problem.
The real danger lay among the shuriken—kunai with explosive tags tied to their hilts, hidden like venomous snakes among a swarm of insects.
"Leave it to me!"
A Mist jōnin leading the assault stepped forward, hands already forming seals.
[Water Release: Water Formation Wall]
In the next instant—
On soil that was only slightly damp, water erupted violently upward, forming a towering three-meter-high wall with sheer force.
The shuriken slammed into the water wall and were deflected, unable to penetrate the defense.
But the kunai's explosive tags detonated.
Thunderous blasts ruptured the water wall into scattered streams.
Although the Mist-nin stood far enough back to avoid casualties, they gained not a single step closer to the fort.
Such was the nature of shinobi warfare.
Though outnumbered, Konoha's defenders used terrain and cover to force the enemy back—
leveraging shuriken, kunai, and explosive tags to pressure the Mist-nin into repeatedly using Water Release for defense, draining their chakra bit by bit.
And Mist-nin had to use Suiton to defend.
If even one explosive tag detonated unchallenged, the resulting shockwave would scatter the shuriken like unpredictable buckshot—an outcome far harder to defend against than the initial volley.
In contrast—
Mist-nin had no terrain advantage, no cover, and attacking uphill meant their thrown weapons lacked range and accuracy.
The fortified earth structure atop the peak was strengthened with Earth Release and protection seals.
Breaking through it would require heavy ninjutsu or a prolonged bombardment of explosive tags—neither of which was easy.
In short—
This battle was far from over.
Victory would not come quickly for either side.
---
At the same time, midway down the mountain, inside another battered fort, nearly fifty Mist-nin were gathered.
At their center stood a towering, round-bodied man with long orange hair and rows of sharp triangular teeth.
A massive, bandage-wrapped sword rested on his back.
This was Fuguki Suikazan —
one of the Hidden Mist's infamous Seven Ninja Swordsmen, the wielder of the Great Blade: Samehada, and a renowned powerhouse of his village.
Yet this famed elite was… troubled.
"Fuguki Suikazan,"
A voice rang out sharply.
A pale boy with silver-white hair and clear violet eyes sat perched atop the crumbling wall, his expression cold and unimpressed.
Despite being young enough to be Fuguki's son, his tone carried no respect.
"These past few days—what exactly have you been doing?
With the strength you command, you should've crushed Ishigoryu Mountain three days ago.
So why the delay?
And today—
you're clearly holding back again.
What game are you playing?"