"The situation is this: our mission is to do everything in our power to prevent Sunagakure from reinforcing the Land of Rivers."
"The best strategy is to force Suna into a total lockdown defense. To achieve that, we must first make them clearly feel our resolve and our combat power."
"Unfortunately, thanks to your hard work, the only target left for us is the Suna supply convoy that departed this morning. They are guarded by a force of five hundred ninjas. If we take them out, Suna's remaining strength will have no choice but to turtle up. More importantly, we must destroy every scrap of those supplies."
The Konoha ninjas assembled there had been fighting in the Land of Wind for at least three months. They were the most adventurous and daring group in the village. Hearing this plan, they weren't afraid; on the contrary, they were so excited they could hardly contain themselves.
Looking into those eyes hungry for merit, Sakumo Hatake gave another grim smile. A single word jumped from between his teeth: "Kill!"
The word was heavy with a metallic ring, radiating a bone-chilling killing intent.
Caught up in the fervor, the Konoha ninjas roared back in unison: "KILL!"
Once they settled down, the veterans began discussing specific tactics and the distribution of tasks. These were all seasoned deep-strike operatives; the combat environment was lethal, and any ninja who wasn't sharp-eyed, quick-witted, or hard-handed had long since been culled by the desert.
The plan was finalized quickly. Their objective wasn't just to destroy the cargo; they were ambitious enough to want to wipe out the entire five-hundred-man escort, aiming for the final and greatest merit of this war.
As per his custom, Sakumo Hatake took the most dangerous role, while the others accepted their own shares of the risk.
Yakushi Tenzen brought out the base's remaining reserves to prepare a lavish lunch. Everyone enjoyed a final hot meal before setting out.
Once the team had departed, Tenzen and Inuzuka Kuro began rigging the base with explosive tags, preparing to demolish the site.
Sakumo Hatake drew his short blade, meticulously applying animal oil before wiping it clean with a white cloth. As he maintained his weapon, he used the process to hone his spirit, sharpening himself for the slaughter to come.
"I'm going in first," Sakumo said softly.
Before the words even faded, he vanished into a faint blur. He ghosted past the Suna sentries on the ridge; two ninjas slumped silently to the sand, dead before they could blink. Sakumo then dove down the slope, hurtling toward the main convoy.
This was the vanguard of the supply team, responsible for pathfinding and scouting. Because Sakumo had eliminated the lookouts, he wasn't spotted until he was right on top of them. They had no time to react.
Chime—!
The White Light Chakra Sabre cleared its scabbard. The brilliant blade extended into a five-meter-long arc of pure chakra. A dazzling flash of light swept horizontally across the Suna line. The lead Jonin and two others were struck with lethal force, their formation instantly torn open by an unbridgeable gap.
This was the kind of unstoppable offensive power Aburame Tetsumaru craved most: a single strike to shatter the enemy's strongest point, followed by a relentless breakthrough to secure a swift, overwhelming victory.
It was a far cry from throwing tens of thousands of insects into a meat grinder, only to watch them get slaughtered in rows because they lacked individual strength. One either had to slowly grind down the enemy's chakra and stamina—wasting hours and thousands of bugs to trap them—or act as the "spearhead" themselves. And even then, as Tetsumaru had learned against Sunabachi, an Aburame was always at risk of failing or dying when facing a true elite.
Sakumo surged through the gap. He retracted the massive chakra extension, leaving only a faint, flowing shimmer along the edge of his blade. It was more than sharp enough.
He danced through the crowd, his silhouette shifting into the visual blind spots of the Suna ninjas. Every time a blade flashed, blood sprayed; before one body could hit the ground, another was already gushing crimson.
In the blink of an eye, eight Sand ninjas were down.
"White Fang! The White Fang is here!"
"Kill him! There are hundreds of us, we can kill him!!"
"Scatter! Get some distance!"
"Group up! Back to back! Don't let him behind you!"
Panic gripped the Sand ninjas. The cowards shrieked and fled, the brave roared and counterattacked, while the Chunin barked out a mess of contradictory orders that only amplified the chaos.
The Sand ninjas began blindly throwing shuriken and senbon. A dozen unlucky souls were struck down by their own allies' stray tools, yet not a single blade touched the hem of Sakumo's gear. Fortunately for them, the formation was relatively spread out, so most of the frantic projectiles simply hissed into the sand.
Make no mistake: every tool thrown by a Suna ninja at the White Fang was coated in the most lethal toxins they possessed. They prayed that a single scratch would suffice to bring him down, securing them fame, fortune, and a promotion to the peak of the shinobi world.
It was a pipe dream. If the White Fang could be killed by a lucky scratch, a man who had rampaged across battlefields for a decade would have been dead long ago.
The Suna ninjas who were hit by friendly fire died quickly. The toxins were fast-acting and incredibly violent. While not incurable, the elites capable of brewing an antidote weren't the ones getting hit by stray shuriken.
The Suna Jonin in charge finally arrived. They were livid at the sight of the mess. Before the mission, the orders had been repeated ad nauseam: Don't panic when meeting the White Fang. Stay calm, no solo actions, and absolutely no indiscriminate use of poison.
Granted, staying calm when the White Fang attacked was easier said than done—the Jonin themselves were terrified—so that point was forgivable.
But the two prohibitions had been completely ignored. The casualties from friendly fire were higher than the number of people Sakumo had actually killed. It was a disgrace.
While the Chunin and Genin were lacking, the Suna Jonin were competent. They began organizing the ninjas into "clumps" of thirty to forty people, huddling them tightly together with nearly two hundred meters between each group.
This was a formation specifically designed to counter Sakumo Hatake. The Hidden Sand had spent years drilling for this exact scenario.
Soon, the White Fang was effectively "filtered" out of the crowd. With no room to maneuver between individual targets, the Sand ninjas were finally able to launch effective counter-volleys.
Sakumo used two consecutive Body Flickers to dodge a barrage of powerful ninjutsu. He reached up and launched a signal flare into the sky.
The commander, Sashin, known as "The Vulture," had just arrived at the front when he saw the flare. He blinked in confusion. Usually, when faced with this formation, the White Fang would retreat. What did a signal mean?
Suddenly, Sashin's face went pale. From behind the surrounding dunes, a multitude of silhouettes appeared. More importantly, Sakumo Hatake was charging straight for him.
It's over. This is a full-scale Konoha offensive.
At that moment, every Suna ninja was fixated on the White Fang, completely unaware of the Konoha ninjas striking their rear.
Wind Style: Nine-Headed Vulture!
Sashin instinctively unleashed his signature jutsu. Nine pillars of wind shrieked toward Sakumo while he screamed orders for his men to defend against the ambush.
Sakumo tilted his body, ghosting through two of the wind pillars before slicing the one aimed at his chest in half with a single stroke. He continued his rapid close-in on Sashin. Of the two Suna guards, one unfurled a defensive puppet while the other drew a longsword to intercept.
Sakumo took a deep breath. His blade's glow flared violently as he executed a horizontal sweep; the swordsman was cleaved in two, blade and all. He followed up with a leaping strike, splitting the defensive puppet from top to bottom. As he passed through the wreckage, he retracted the chakra glow and drove his blade cleanly into the puppeteer's heart.
As the puppeteer fell, he revealed the fleeing silhouette of the Suna commander. "Vulture" Sashin hadn't just retreated; he was already nearly back within the safety of the main Suna force.
The effort of breaking the line and the consecutive heavy strikes had consumed a significant amount of Sakumo's chakra. He realized he couldn't catch the fleeing Sashin and let out a small sigh.
A man might have a wrong name, but a nickname was always earned.
"Vulture" Sashin. He specialized in high-speed Wind Style, was a master of tracking and ambush, and was famous for fleeing the moment danger appeared and striking ruthlessly the moment an opening showed. He was a man of both extreme cunning and irritating resilience.
To the Konoha ninjas operating in the Land of Wind, this man was an inescapable reaper. Once the Vulture locked onto you, you were as good as dead.
Over the years, nearly half of the Konoha operatives in the country had been hunted by him. The death toll was significant, including more than one Jonin. Sakumo had personally tried to hunt the man down several times, but the moment Sashin saw the White Fang, he would abandon his mission and run for his life without a second thought.
To Sakumo, he was like a slippery, oily fish. This was their third encounter, and Sashin had escaped yet again.
Since the "big prize" was gone, Sakumo turned his attention to the Suna ninjas currently engaged with his team.
At that moment, over a hundred Sand ninjas were in a combat formation, suppressing the forty-odd Konoha ninjas. But the White Fang was coming. A spread-out formation was exactly where Sakumo thrived.
The Suna forces didn't dare cluster back up. If they did, their density would make them easy targets for a single high-level ninjutsu. They would be slaughtered like sitting ducks.
The Suna Jonin were paralyzed with indecision.
With a moment's hesitation, the White Fang was among them. With Sakumo tearing through the inside and Konoha fireballs raining down from the outside, the fight was over.
Once their will broke, the formation shattered. The Suna Jonin were the first to run, and the rest followed in a panicked rout.
With the "bone" cracked, it was time to feast. The Konoha ninjas happily pursued the fleeing Suna forces. In the open desert, a pursuit was a one-sided slaughter.
Sakumo Hatake did not join the chase. The pressure of the battle hadn't been high, but seeing the "Vulture" had made him greedy. His full-power, long-distance charge followed by the execution of the guards had been too taxing, and his chakra reserves were low.
He felt a dull ache beginning to spread through his body from the overexertion.
The pursuit didn't last long. A reinforcement of over three hundred Suna ninjas appeared on the horizon. The Konoha operatives couldn't risk a sustained engagement, so they broke off into squads and made a swift retreat.
After the field was cleared, a conflict erupted between the defensive commander, Sashin, and the logistics head, Mita Bikuan. Sashin wanted to abandon the mission and return to the village; Mita was adamantly opposed.
"You really are a 'Vulture,' aren't you? Running the second you see the White Fang."
Faced with the mockery, Sashin's weathered, sand-blasted face didn't twitch. He didn't even bother to look up. "Survival comes first," he said softly. "I don't have the ability to protect this convoy under the White Fang's harassment."
"Your mission is to get these supplies to the destination, not to tuck tail and run!"
"If we die, it's over. The supplies will be lost anyway, and Sunagakure's losses will be even greater."
"How can you be so cowardly? We have so many battle-ready ninjas. Turning back after one setback is a disgrace!"
"Abandoning a mission when facing the White Fang is not a crime. The Kazekage himself issued that decree. Did you not get the memo?"
"Or perhaps," Sashin added, "Lord Mita would like to personally intercept the White Fang during the next raid?"
Mita Bikuan's face turned beet-red, but he couldn't bring himself to say: I'll handle him.
He just wanted the guards to fight to the death; he had no intention of dying himself. There weren't many Sand ninjas left who had fought the White Fang and lived to tell the tale. Aside from Chiyo and the Kazekage, the "cowardly" Sashin was one of the few—and the only one who hadn't been forced into retirement by his injuries.
Mita thought for a moment and finally decided to use a secret piece of intel to persuade Sashin. He lowered his voice. "If we keep moving, we can rendezvous with two specific adults. Lord Chiyo's son and daughter-in-law."
Sashin's drooping eyelids snapped open, revealing eyes that were sharp and intense.
Mita was startled by the look. Those eyes held fifty percent grit, thirty percent arrogance, and twenty percent madness.
It turned out that the Sashin who fled at the sight of the White Fang was actually the most competitive, victory-hungry man in Sunagakure.
The White Fang was Suna's nightmare, and having escaped him several times, Sashin had developed a severe psychological complex. If there was a genuine chance to kill Sakumo Hatake, he believed risking his life was a bargain.
"If those two are ahead... then the three of us together might actually have a chance against him. That is a risk worth taking."
"Then we continue?"
"We continue. but everyone stays in a single cluster. It doesn't matter if we're slow; spreading out is a death sentence," Sashin said.
He had seen at least forty Konoha ninjas today. After clearing the battlefield, they had only recovered two Konoha bodies; the total confirmed kills couldn't have exceeded five.
In contrast, the Sand had lost 83 dead. Including the severely wounded, they had lost over a hundred men.
"The White Fang is like a hungry wolf," Sashin muttered, his eyes narrowing again. "He's tasted blood and meat today. He'll be back. Again and again. He will definitely return, and we will have a brutal fight on our hands."
However, reality rarely aligns with one's wishes. Once the escort and logistics teams were bunched together into a single mass, their pace dropped to an unacceptable crawl.
The two leaders realized that at this speed, they wouldn't reach the rendezvous point in three days. Sashin decided to take a gamble and increase the pace; otherwise, they wouldn't even have a chance to make their final stand.
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