"Inuzuka Tsume, with her ninken Kuromaru, just killed two jōnin. Impressive. She's probably the first from the Inuzuka Clan since the founding of the village to choose a full-grown ninja hound that lost its partner, instead of raising a puppy alongside her."
Hatake Sakumo nodded silently. Konoha's depth of heritage was overwhelming, its human resources vast. There would always be seemingly average shinobi who, when the moment called for it, pulled out some hidden ace that caught the enemy completely off guard—turning the tides in ways no one expected.
The Third Hokage especially loved these kinds of surprises. A young ninja no one had paid attention to causing significant losses to the enemy—it meant Konoha had gained more than it spent. More damage dealt per resource invested.
Stack up enough of those small wins, and the larger picture shifts. That was Konoha's strength: unmatched reserves, and an unshakable willingness to outlast.
"Shinobi battles are first and foremost battles of intelligence. If you counter the enemy with entirely new techniques, you seize the informational advantage."
Sakumo looked over the intel from the field and felt genuinely satisfied—until another report caught his eye.
"The Impure Soul Technique…? Someone actually delved deep enough into that jutsu to develop it further? And achieved practical, combat-viable results? Tsukasa Kaede… a medic-nin, still a genin, has already killed three enemies directly and assisted in the elimination of five others?"
He didn't think the report exaggerated. The observers tasked with cataloging battlefield merits were under strict protocols. Any war effort required rigorous data handling—especially when assigning mission credit and battle honors. No village could afford sloppiness here.
Even though the Medical Corps was still relatively new, it had already produced shinobi who stood out. At the genin and chūnin level, Tsukasa Kaede's unique skillset had made him impossible to ignore.
"With Tsunade commanding the medics, it's no surprise hidden talents are starting to surface. Hopefully one of them becomes the next Namikaze Minato."
The thought escaped Sakumo's lips, but he knew it was idle fantasy.
Compared to Minato, no up-and-comer could stand tall.
Minato, barely thirteen, had already mastered Flying Thunder God—the space-time ninjutsu of the Second Hokage. He was the second person in Konoha's history to wield it with any real proficiency.
Just weeks into the Iwagakure front, Minato had made a name for himself—assassinating multiple jōnin and delivering crucial intelligence. He provided enormous strategic value to the Leaf.
Even Sakumo had to admit: Minato's genius was frightening.
Raw talent, boundless potential, and worst of all—he was nearly unkillable. Even in defeat, Flying Thunder God let him escape unharmed. That kind of resilience tilted the entire balance.
If he was already like this at thirteen… what would two more years bring?
Standing next to Minato, even the most promising so-called geniuses couldn't help but feel lesser.
"Sakumo-sama! Movement spotted at the enemy command post—Chiyo's Puppet Brigade has entered the battlefield!"
"So she finally took the bait. Suna's been bleeding too fast—they were bound to snap first."
Sakumo stood abruptly and led his personal guards toward the front lines.
With Chiyo's arrival, both sides had now committed their elite forces.
Chiyo's heart burned with rage. She had no choice in the matter. If she'd had even a sliver of an option, she wouldn't be here.
"Konoha… that damn village keeps producing monsters. Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara left behind too much."
Ebizō, her brother, sighed. "We can't win a battle of attrition. Even your poisons just slow them down—it's still not enough."
There was no answer. They couldn't outlast Konoha. Their military economy, their shinobi count, their genetics—it was a losing game from the start.
So Chiyo's only hope was decisive strikes, lightning assaults with full puppet regiments. Hit hard, then retreat, over and over again.
But Hatake Sakumo was the wrong man to try this on. He had devastated puppet forces in the past—and would do so again. Even this tactic would fail in time.
"So what if Konoha has all these prodigies?" Chiyo snapped. "The White Fang, the Sannin, Dan Katō, even Namikaze Minato… kill just one of them, and they're gone for good. My son and daughter-in-law should have lived. We had geniuses, too. My grandson will grow to be even greater than all of them."
As Sakumo's presence surged toward the frontline, Chiyo unrolled her summoning scroll and unleashed a wave of puppets, their bladed limbs lashing out toward Leaf forces.
In the chaos of it all, Tsukasa Kaede was having a terrible time.
"Too many people. I can't just animate every fallen Konoha shinobi—limits my options. And I'm running dangerously low on chakra."
He hated this.
Tsukasa's style worked best in small-unit combat, where he didn't have to worry about friendly casualties or visibility. Here, surrounded by hundreds, he had to be cautious. He couldn't risk animating the wrong corpse or drawing attention to what he really was.
More than that, Tsukasa knew: he needed new jutsu.
Relying on the same tactics would lead to defeat. The more battles he fought, the more enemies learned of his patterns, the more vulnerable he became. Information was a weapon.
If the enemy always fought the last version of him, he would always be two steps ahead.
"If I want to stay alive—and conserve chakra—then I need to finish the technique I've been theorizing."
A special version of Substitution Jutsu. One that required only a sliver of chakra, but used an artificial body.
He had already run the simulations in his mind dozens of times. The theory held. Now came the hard part: real-world execution.
Just then, a wave of screams erupted ahead.
Tsukasa's gaze snapped up—and his blood froze.
An ivory-cloaked puppet had charged right through the formation, scattering bodies like broken dolls. A giant axe came swinging toward him with deadly precision.