Hatake Sakumo's White Fang Sword Style had always woven together two chakra nature changes—wind and lightning. Lightning-nature chakra was the main pillar, and up until recently, Uchiha Feiyu had focused almost entirely on that side.
But over this last stretch of time—through Sakumo's possession training, plus the "generous contributions" of more than twenty Sand shinobi souls—Feiyu's wind nature transformation had finally caught up to his lightning.
Only now could he unleash the full-power version of White Fang's kenjutsu.
Wind-nature chakra had two key applications within the style:
Airflow around the body – wrapping himself in finely controlled air currents to cancel air resistance, dampen sound, and push his speed even higher.
The flying slash – what Feiyu had just used: a long-range crescent of compressed air, a blade of wind that scythed out from his sword.
This long-range blade didn't lose to a B-rank Wind Release: Wind Cutter in terms of power—but unlike ordinary ninjutsu, it required no hand seals. Just a single swing.
It was precisely because this wind blade compensated for the White Fang style's lack of range that Sakumo's swordsmanship had reached its completed, nearly flawless form.
The Iwa squad captain on the far side of the chasm had first been thrown off by Feiyu's now greatly improved Sharingan genjutsu. His mind blanked for a second or two.
Then the wind blade hit him.
The crescent of compressed air sheared through his waist, and his body was simply cut in two.
The other three wounded shinobi, because they hadn't looked directly into the Sharingan, weren't pulled under. Feiyu's seal-less wind slash still sent them scrambling in panic, but they just barely managed to evade.
"Captain! Damn it!"
The towering Iwa-nin roared, fury burning in his eyes.
But the twin brothers on either side grabbed his arms and dragged him back.
"Don't be stupid! We can't win this!"
"And the mission's already failed. Konoha's reinforcements will be here any second!"
"Damn Uchiha… you just wait!"
The big man shot Feiyu a glare full of venom—the classic "meet me after school" threat—then turned and fled with the brothers.
Feiyu glanced at the gaping crack in the earth and ultimately chose not to pursue.
By now, though, the entire perimeter around the Konoha camp was in chaos. His sharpened senses—even his new soul-sense—could pick up multiple clashes breaking out all around.
"Looks like this wasn't the only Iwa squad in the raid.
Still, with my signal flare, they shouldn't be getting much out of it."
Murmuring to himself, Feiyu stretched his hand out. The Iwa captain's soul, still hovering vaguely above the ground, was drawn into his grasp and stored away.
It played out exactly as he'd guessed.
After half a day of scattered skirmishes and confusion, the fights around the Konoha forward camp gradually died down. Before long, Feiyu was standing in front of Orochimaru again.
"Feiyu-kun, we really owe you this time."
Orochimaru's expression carried a faint, simmering anger beneath the surface as he spoke.
"It was nothing. I just happened to be nearby by chance.
What's going on? Has Iwagakure declared war on us too?"
At that, Orochimaru's eyes chilled, a shard of killing intent flickering in the snake-like pupils.
"We just received an emergency reverse-summoning message," he said.
"Iwagakure's formal declaration of war has already been delivered to Konoha."
Orochimaru gave a cold, contemptuous chuckle.
"Ōnoki, that old fossil, really does love his little tricks.
A coordinated surprise raid and declaration of war—
this kind of underhanded play is exactly his style."
Feiyu didn't bother complaining about Ōnoki's methods.
Secret strikes without warning, ripping up treaties and hitting first—that kind of thing was practically standard operating procedure in the shinobi world. Compared to some of the stunts other villages would pull later—like Suna's games during the Chunin Exams—this was almost quaint.
He cared about something else.
"How many did they send?" Feiyu asked. "And what kind of strength are we talking about?"
"The main force is still unclear," Orochimaru replied, voice low.
"But the raiding party that just struck had five squads, twenty people in total. Every single one of them was at least tokubetsu jōnin level."
"Most of them either excel at subterranean techniques, or at large-area Camouflage Concealment. That's how they got this close to the camp.
If the raid had actually succeeded, the casualties would've been… substantial."
Twenty people hitting a camp of several thousand sounded like a joke. But if every one of those twenty was a high-end elite—each possessing wide-area, mass-slaughter ninjutsu—that was a different story.
Ninjas were inherently glass cannons—high offense, low durability.
A single jōnin-class shinobi with the right A-rank technique could wipe out entire platoons of genin and Chunin. If twenty of them suddenly appeared in the middle of a resting army and unleashed a coordinated barrage of combined ninjutsu, taking a thousand lives in one strike was not exactly far-fetched.
In that case, even if Konoha's front-line forces wouldn't be completely crippled, it would absolutely count as serious damage to their vital strength.
As for the fact that Iwa's little trick had already failed, Feiyu didn't really care.
What mattered to him was the big picture:
"So Iwa is officially going to war with Konoha now?
That means we're fighting two major villages at once."
"That's right," Orochimaru nodded.
"But the River Country front will probably only be a secondary battlefield for Iwa. They won't commit too many forces here."
Feiyu nodded in understanding.
The Land of Rivers was already crawling with Konoha and Suna forces. If Iwa tried to march in with a full army, they'd just be recreating the Second Great Ninja War in the Land of Rain—for all the wrong reasons.
Back then, in the Second War, Konoha, Iwa, Suna, and Amegakure had all piled into that tiny country and turned it into a giant blender full of blood.
In the end, nobody walked away satisfied. Everyone took massive losses, some nearly wiped out.
That was because no village trusted any of the others.
Iwa and Suna could never truly be "allies" against Konoha. At best, they'd treat each other as secondary enemies rather than primary targets.
Cooperation? Minimal.
Backstabbing? Inevitable.
So one plus one often ended up less than two.
Under those conditions, splitting the battlefields and hitting Konoha from multiple directions was actually the more rational strategy for any village trying to carve a piece off the Leaf.
Theoretically, anyway.
In practice, each Ninja War always started with this "smart" plan and ended as a total mess.
In the late stages, once everyone was exhausted and desperate, the fronts would blur, lines would cross, and everything devolved into chaotic grand free-for-all.
Old grudges between villages, mutual distrust, the desire to weaken rivals and hog the spoils—plus constant schemes and manipulation—meant that sooner or later, the great villages would be tearing at each other as much as at Konoha.
"For now," Orochimaru continued, "Iwa probably won't send more than a thousand shinobi to the River Country front. Their main objective is to pile more pressure onto us—open more fronts, force Konoha to split its forces."
He let out a slow breath, expression flat.
"Unfortunately, even knowing this, we still have to call for reinforcements.
As long as Iwa maintains a presence here, we can't afford to be careless."
Shinobi, after all, were professionals in deception.
Their strategic planning might look like a dumpster fire at times, but on the tactical level they were anything but sloppy.
Even if current intel said Iwa was just here to "apply pressure," there was no guarantee they wouldn't suddenly flip strategy, rush in extra elites, and try to crush this front outright.
And if that happened while Konoha was complacent?
That would be a disaster.
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