While traveling, Tsukasa Kaede occasionally summoned reanimated corpses to carry him on their backs, conserving his strength. This method of travel burned through several zombies, but they were disposable—mere low-level genin with no strategic value.
Summoning "ninja tools" from a scroll barely consumed chakra, and in Kaede's case, his tools were corpses already categorized as refuse.
Morino Isuke watched Kaede seal another worn-out corpse back into a scroll and couldn't help but mutter, "I never imagined the Dead Soul Jutsu could be used like this. You're able to make corpses move for extended periods? That level of control should burn through a massive amount of chakra. Even if you're converting saved stamina into new chakra, can you really sustain that kind of drain?"
Kaede carefully stored the scroll at his waist and replied flatly, "Morino-dono, you should be well aware—I've modified the jutsu. A slight evolution in effect is perfectly natural. As for the specifics… I'm afraid I can't explain it to you."
He was meticulous. If he accidentally left behind a discarded corpse marked with the insignia of Sunagakure—or any other Hidden Village—it could easily result in three contradictory investigation reports from Konoha's patrol squads.
Isuke had no rebuttal. The other team members shared uneasy glances.
It was the first time they'd seen Kaede use Dead Soul Jutsu so directly. It was only a matter of time, of course—Kazematsuri Takano had witnessed something similar over two months ago.
Kaede himself understood: this mission was different from his prior skirmishes against Amegakure and that brush with Ao of Kirigakure. This was war on another level—a real military campaign, involving unit coordination, large-scale tactics, and massed forces.
"Worst-case scenario, I die nameless on the battlefield. If it comes to that... I'll have to turn myself into a zombie. The only question is—will it work? And if it does... how much of 'me' will survive?"
Kaede couldn't calculate the odds.
His undead had no consciousness. Even if they retained muscle memory and battle reflexes, what they enacted were patterns—predetermined by the networks of neurons, not conscious will.
He'd considered it before—if one were to nurture a corpse carefully over time, could a new, infantile self-awareness emerge? It was possible. But it would require further advancement in Corpse Release.
"If I'm forced into a corner, I'll gamble on that path. Maybe after a few years—or decades—I'll wake up. But would I still be me?"
No one spoke. The five shinobi walked in silence until they reached the front-line encampment.
Upon arrival, the atmosphere turned grim.
Battle scars were everywhere. Burned trenches, collapsed earth walls, pools of dried blood. Wounded shinobi lay groaning on stretchers—survivors, but barely.
"Some of these wounds... they're poisoned. Looks like the war's going badly for us," Kaede thought.
Wearing their medical-nin uniforms, their group immediately drew attention. At first, some shinobi lit up with hope, only to sigh and look away moments later.
Standard toxins could be managed—chakra-enhanced bodies could last long enough for on-site antidotes.
But Chiyo's poisons? Nothing worked. That's what had doomed Hotaruzuru Tobimushi.
Still, shinobi had high toxin resistance—sometimes surviving for hours or days. As long as they held on, there was hope.
Everyone was waiting—for Tsunade.
Where she was, what mission she was on—no one knew. But until she returned, med-nin like Kaede had to do their best to keep the dying alive.
More medical-nin trickled in. Kaede even spotted a few war orphans, nervously sweating, palms glowing green as they applied basic healing techniques.
"Even the orphans have been deployed... Nono must've acted. She might've already infiltrated Sunagakure by now."
Kaede turned back to his work.
It wasn't long before he was assigned to the front lines, embedded with a mobile unit.
This wasn't infiltration or small-unit warfare. This was corps-level combat.
Even basic jutsu, if deployed en masse, could reshape the battlefield. Terrain. Visibility. Strategy. All of it could shift in seconds. That meant more unpredictability—and more casualties.
One mistake could be fatal.
Kaede moved cautiously through the chaos. As a medical-nin, he wasn't expected to assault enemy positions. That was the good news.
The bad news? Enemy shinobi often targeted medics first.
"Kaede, behind you!" Isuke's voice snapped like a whip.
Kaede didn't hesitate.
His hand shot to his waist, unsealing the scroll in a flash.
Poof!
A cloud of smoke exploded behind him. When it cleared, a reanimated corpse blocked the incoming strike.
Thunk!
A Sunagakure shinobi's kunai plunged deep into the zombie's chest, his sneer widening.
"Oh? A summoning technique? Doesn't matter. Nothing survives against me. Especially once poisoned—one scratch is all it takes."
The man grinned, his tone smug. He didn't even care that the figure he'd stabbed looked pale, discolored, obviously unnatural.
He and his comrades had killed many Konoha shinobi like this—just one scratch from their poisoned blades was enough. Even a brush meant death.
But his grin faltered. Something was wrong.
The corpse's hand shot forward, grabbing his wrist in a death grip.
The Sunagakure ninja didn't panic. He immediately drew another kunai and thrust it upward—from the jaw to the skull.
"It's over. You're next."
He wrenched his poisoned blade free and charged toward Kaede—intent on striking before Konoha reinforcements arrived.
"You're as good as dead. Against me, even one scratch is enough."
Kaede formed a one-handed seal.
"Katsu."
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300 Stones in this story = 1 Bonus chapter in every fanfic currently translated