Since it wasn't convenient for him to appear directly on the front lines, Uchiha Gen used his summoning beasts to transmit information.
Back in his tent at the Konoha camp, he quickly wrote out a scroll, placed it into the mouth of a small snake, and sent it slithering off toward the battlefield.
Once the task was done, he returned to the lounge of the supply transfer station, lay down, and allowed himself a brief rest.
Two hours later, he mounted Shuryu and rode steadily toward the front. He didn't rush. By the time he arrived, the clash was already reaching its conclusion, Hidden Mist shinobi were in full retreat.
He joined the pursuit for form's sake, then fell back when Orochimaru issued the order to withdraw.
Back at camp, the senior officers immediately convened a strategy meeting.
Some suggested a large-scale offensive to press their advantage and crush the retreating Mist forces, but Orochimaru waved the idea away. He cautioned that pushing the enemy too far could ignite a full-scale war.
Instead, he proposed a strategy of attrition, bleeding the Mist slowly, forcing them to weaken step by step until they collapsed under their own losses.
Gen naturally supported his teacher's decision. With both commander and deputy commander in agreement, dissenting voices had no chance to gain traction.
And the truth was, Orochimaru's reasoning made sense. If Konoha pressed too hard, a wider war could break out. Even if the other Great Villages remained on the sidelines, Konoha would still be dragged into a draining conflict, stalling its recovery.
And if those other villages chose to intervene… the entire shinobi world would plunge into another great war.
No one wanted to live through that nightmare again. So the jonin present, though restless, offered no objection.
Orochimaru's 'prudence' became policy.
At the same time, the Mist camp also gathered for council.
The tent that once held twenty-two jonin now had only nine. Thirteen seats sat empty.
Ten jonin had fallen to Uchiha Gen, three more on the battlefield itself.
The reinforcement squad they had counted on had been annihilated. If Suikazan Fuguki hadn't ordered a swift retreat, even more would have died.
The air inside the tent was suffocating. Several jonin sat swathed in bandages, the stink of medicine clinging to them. Every face was grim, every expression heavy with disbelief.
Fuguki's own features were storm-dark, as though his rage and grief might spill from his skin. The others, Biwa Jūzō, Hoshigaki Kisame, and the rest, shared the same sick feeling.
They weren't afraid of death. They were afraid of dying for nothing.
And yet… a squad reinforced with ten jonin had been erased overnight. How could they even report such a disaster back to the village?
Word of the loss didn't stay hidden for long. When Inuzuka Gaku and his unit reached the battlefield, he deliberately spread the truth to sap the Mist's morale, reciting the names of the ten dead jonin and five special-jonin for all to hear.
The war had dragged on long enough that each side had gathered at least basic intelligence on the other's higher-ranking shinobi. Hearing the names confirmed, the Mist could only accept the blow.
Orochimaru's clone had fought on the front lines with little vigor, as if deliberately downplaying his strength, further convincing them that Konoha's claims about a rear-ambush were true.
In reality, Orochimaru's main body had moved with Gen behind the lines, hunting Mist ninja in secret.
Fuguki finally broke the silence. "There's still no news from mangetsu and the others. It seems their situation is truly dire."
He let out a long breath. "Our upper ranks have suffered heavy losses. What are your thoughts? How do we meet Konoha's next move?"
Biwa Jūzō answered first, his voice low. "What else can we do? We can't take them head-on. If we keep trying, it's suicide."
Others quickly agreed. Konoha had lost jonin too, but far fewer. The disparity was now nearly two-to-one.
"Jūzō is right. Unless the Village sends reinforcements, a direct clash will only finish us."
One shinobi raised his hand. "Then let's avoid their spearpoint completely. Concentrate our elite forces at the supply base. Strengthen the barrier and hold that ground. Everyone else splits into small squads. No need to focus on killing, just harass, disrupt, keep them off balance. Each squad carries its own rations and coin. If they run out, they resupply in towns. They don't return to base. Their only job is to tie Konoha down."
Another nodded. "Yes. Our only goal is to stop Konoha from pushing us out of Whirlpool Country. How we fight later depends on reinforcements from the Village."
The others, after brief thought, agreed.
It wasn't ideal. But with their reduced numbers, defending scattered ground was impossible. Better to consolidate in one fortress-like position.
If reinforcements came, they'd still have a foothold to strike from. And if Konoha drove them out completely, retaking a landing point would be far more costly.
Fuguki gave a short nod. "Then it's settled. Tonight, we withdraw quietly. No trace left for Konoha to see."
By dawn, the Mist camp lay empty.
When Konoha discovered it, they advanced quickly, pressing forward into Whirlpool Country. For a moment, hope flickered, perhaps the enemy was retreating entirely.
The rank and file dared to dream the war might soon end.
But as Konoha pushed eastward, deeper into the country, they finally found their quarry.
The Mist had transformed their supply base into a fortress. Backed by mountains, bordered by a river, open to the sea, it was a perfect stronghold, hard to assault and easy to resupply.
For the Konoha ninja, it was a crushing disappointment.
For Orochimaru and Gen, it was exactly what they wanted.
The Mist's elite now hunkered down in their fortress, supplied by river and sea. Their lesser troops scattered into the countryside, harassing Konoha in hit-and-run skirmishes.
At the next war council, Gen spoke plainly: "Surround but don't strike. Clip their wings, cut their logistics, bleed them. When the time is right, we finish it in one blow."
Orochimaru's thin smile showed his approval. "Agreed."
With master and disciple aligned, no one objected. After all, the plan spared them from the suicidal task of storming a fortress head-on. Who would argue against that?
And while Konoha settled into their new strategy, the Mist's report traveled homeward to Kirigakure…