c137: Deputy Commander
When Gen Uchiha entered the command tent, the two chūnin guards exchanged subtle glances. Both had noticed the same thing: unlike most of the proud, sharp-tongued Uchiha they had known, this disciple of Orochimaru carried himself differently. Calm, approachable, yet undeniably dangerous.
"Orochimaru-sensei."
"Sit wherever you like."
Without looking up from the stack of reports, Orochimaru gestured lazily with a pale hand. His golden eyes briefly flicked upward before returning to the document.
Gen chose a chair at the side of the long table, the same table where battlefield councils were usually held.
"Teacher, how do you intend to conduct the campaign from here?"
"Slowly," Orochimaru replied without pause.
"Slowly?"
"Yes. You will continue to harvest souls; I will continue to gather materials. The war must drag on as long as possible. Out here, beyond Konoha's oversight, my research is… unrestrained. Far more pleasant than under the old man's gaze."
Gen smiled faintly. He agreed. The longer the war stretched, the more souls he could claim. Rushing to cripple Kirigakure would be a mistake, especially before Uchiha Obito secured control over Yagura.
Even then, Obito would not have unchecked authority. Kirigakure's Mizukage did not rule alone. Behind Yagura stood the Council of Elders, and the most influential among them carried the title of Marshal his power balancing, even limiting, that of the Mizukage.
Without careful maneuvering, Obito could not overrule them. He could excuse a reckless decision once, perhaps twice, but repeated overreach would expose him. Thus, when Kirigakure suffered too great a loss, the elders would surely order a withdrawal, and even Obito could not stop it.
This reasoning made both master and disciple's goals align though they knew no other Konoha ninja would ever accept such logic. To ordinary shinobi, prolonging war only meant more corpses.
But Orochimaru was no ordinary commander. His personal power, his prestige, and the awe he inspired on the battlefield allowed him to bend the pace of war to his own design.
Gen chuckled. "If that is your intent, sensei, then I am reassured."
Orochimaru's tongue flicked across his lips. "Then… you may serve as my deputy."
Gen blinked. "Deputy commander? Do you even have the authority to appoint me?"
"Authority comes with results," Orochimaru answered smoothly. "You've made significant achievements in battle. Submitting you as deputy commander of a force this size is nothing the elders in the village will dispute. The Hokage still relies on me, after all."
Gen gave a wry smile. "I know what you want is more time for your experiments. Still… I'm grateful."
"Then bring a stool. Sit here. You will learn how to manage this army."
Obediently, Gen slid a stool beside him. Master and disciple bent over the reports together. Orochimaru quizzed him asking his thoughts, correcting errors, explaining every change with clinical precision.
Orochimaru's teaching was always methodical. Just as he taught ninjutsu through dissection and analysis, he approached military command scientifically.
Instead of reviewing scrolls in order, he grouped them by category: deployment, logistics, medical, and general affairs. Each had its subdivisions, and each boiled down to one thing managing people.
Arithmetic was the true foundation. Numbers could be twisted to hide corruption, and shinobi were no strangers to exploiting war for personal gain. Even Konoha's vaunted "Will of Fire" did not purge greed. A careless commander without sharp calculations could be bled dry by dishonest subordinates.
Few dared attempt such tricks under Orochimaru's command. But Gen, despite his raw strength, would need to prove he could match his teacher's ruthless precision.
…
That night, a battle report arrived in Kirigakure.
Yagura, upon reading it, left his residence with a storm-dark expression and summoned the elders to the Mizukage Building.
Nine jōnin dead. Among them, Kurosuki Raiga, wielder of the Twin Blades.
The losses were staggering. Of the nine, five had fallen to Gen Uchiha, two to Orochimaru, and two more during Konoha's pursuit. Jōnin were the backbone of every Hidden Village. They were not disposable chūnin or expendable genin they were irreplaceable assets.
Each of the Five Great Villages possessed barely over a hundred active jōnin, even counting newly promoted shinobi after the last war. Sunagakure, the weakest, held just over a hundred. Konoha and Kumogakure barely surpassed one hundred and forty. Kirigakure, prior to this battle, had around one hundred and twenty. Now, with nine gone, nearly a tenth of their elite had been erased in one engagement.
Worse Thunder Fang had not been recovered. The Seven Ninja Swords were not merely weapons; they were symbols of Kirigakure's power and identity. To lose one permanently was unthinkable.
The council chamber boiled with anger. Some demanded punishment for the commander, the Hōzuki clan's Pufferfish Ghost. Yet Yagura, though furious, defended him, and even the Marshal agreed the disaster could not rest entirely on his shoulders. Instead, the order was given: the commander would remain in the field, forced to redeem himself with victory.
The Marshal had wanted to halt the war before losses grew worse. But Yagura refused to let the campaign collapse, fearing it would stain his authority. And the other elders, shackled by sunk cost, refused to retreat when the Seven Swords remained unrecovered.
So, they resolved instead to send reinforcements 300 genin, 30 chūnin, and 10 more jōnin to the frontlines.
…
Not long after, Bai Zetsu slipped through the earth to an abandoned house at the edge of Kirigakure, where Obito sat in the shadows, his mask tilted toward the window.
"The report is confirmed," Bai Zetsu said, voice half-playful. "That Uchiha boy has a dragon-like summon… and an ability to rip away souls through fear."
Obito sat upright, scarlet Sharingan glinting beneath the mask. "…A dragon summon, and a soul-draining technique?"
A spiral form emerged beside Bai Zetsu, grinning. "Unless the Pufferfish Ghost is pulling an elaborate prank on the elders."
Obito fell silent. He knew better. A man like the Pufferfish Ghost would never joke at such a cost.
"The Sage of Six Paths existed. The Rinnegan exists. A dragon is hardly unbelievable," Obito murmured. "But a fear-born power to consume souls? Even Madara's library held no record of such an Uchiha ability."
Bai Zetsu tilted its pale head. "Perhaps he learned it elsewhere in the shinobi world."
Before more could be said, black liquid seeped across the floor, wrapping itself around half of Bai Zetsu's body. Black Zetsu had arrived.
---
30+ advanced chapter on patreon....Visit patreon now to read my exclusive content... posting 5 chapters per day, Our collection is now available on PATREON
visit patreon.com/Elbertovic to view 30+ advanced chapters
Please subscribe guys