"The enemy is charging. I might not be able to keep all my focus on you from here on—be careful."
Dan Katō raised his head, his expression grave.
The battles across the other fronts must have already begun. Every skirmish was critical, and none could be abandoned.
"With Dan Katō protecting us, the survival rate of us medical-nin rises dramatically."
When the units were assembling, Kazematsuri Takuno came up beside Kaede Tsukasa and whispered this, a tone of reverence slipping into his voice.
To the uninformed, it might have seemed like he was in awe of Dan Katō. In truth, that awe was directed at Kaede Tsukasa.
Kaede Tsukasa had said he would take down Araki of the Sandstorm—and in the end, he really did it. Though Takuno hadn't understood many of the finer details, he could reverse-engineer the outcome from the result, recall Kaede Tsukasa's actions, and put it together with the sight of him speaking quietly with Dan Katō. That much was enough for him to grasp a little of the truth.
Without realizing it, that frail genin from before had grown rapidly, now standing at a level where Konoha's leading figures paid close attention, even drafting strategies around him and assigning elites to guard him.
Kaede Tsukasa nodded. "I understand. I've already exhausted my chakra. Not becoming a burden to my comrades is the best help I can offer. I'll keep that in mind."
To put it bluntly—he would keep his head down and survive.
Everyone worried that after taking part in the hunt for Araki of the Sandstorm, Kaede Tsukasa might start letting it go to his head.
But in truth, he knew exactly where he stood. He had eaten a soldier pill, further straining his frail body, and was ready to run for his life at any moment.
At the same time, he approached Araki's corpse and sealed it into his scroll.
The others watched in silence. Some even looked on with admiration, tempted to ask if Kaede Tsukasa could immediately turn the corpse into a fighting asset. But seeing his pale face, no one voiced the question.
No one felt it improper to entrust the corpse to him, either. Among the 1,300 shinobi here, only Kaede Tsukasa had the ability to utilize a body.
Without him as bait, they wouldn't have been able to wipe out that entire elite squad so smoothly.
"The other corpses will have to wait until after the war. Recovering them now is pointless." Kaede Tsukasa thought to himself.
Araki of the Sandstorm's body was filled with his virus, and he had already been under Kaede Tsukasa's influence while alive. This meant Araki could retain the greatest possible amount of his former strength—a prize of immense value.
Once the battle began, if things went south and even the Void Technique couldn't get him out, he could unleash Araki.
"But unless it's absolutely necessary, I won't… To kill him and immediately use him as my puppet—the impact of that would be far too great." Kaede Tsukasa mused silently.
From the front came the sounds of battle cries.
"Hahaha! Those Sand fools are finally here—I've been waiting for this!"
"We were just warming up earlier. We even killed that Araki of the Sandstorm fellow of yours!"
"What? Lord Araki was an elite jōnin! There's no way he could be dead! He was leading our most elite squad!"
"Who knows? He suddenly charged at us, and then one of our comrades cut him down on the spot."
At the very start of the clash, Sunagakure's morale was dealt a crushing blow. Many of their shinobi wore expressions of disbelief.
A handful of insiders knew the original plan: once Araki of the Sandstorm captured an important figure, they could wade in without restraint, unleashing ninjutsu on the chaos-ridden Konoha forces.
If they had rushed into open combat right away and Araki had joined later, the target might have died in the melee—making the whole plan meaningless.
What were they supposed to do then, snatch up a corpse? Even the Yamanaka clan of Konoha couldn't guarantee extracting complete intelligence from a dead body, let alone Sunagakure.
But now, the plan was in ruins. Not only did Araki fail to complete his mission, he hadn't even managed to escape? How could that be possible? Moments ago, they'd been observing Konoha's battle from afar, and then—it was already over?
Whoosh!
A white spirit form darted across the battlefield. Wherever it passed, endangered Konoha shinobi were saved, while terrified Suna-nin froze in horror and collapsed.
Sometimes a Suna shinobi would suddenly become possessed by Dan Katō, turning on his comrades in a frenzied slaughter.
Some tried attacking him, but striking at a spirit barely caused any harm.
Despite having the advantage in numbers, the Suna forces—who should have crushed this Konoha unit and moved swiftly to reinforce the other fronts—were being driven into a pitiful mess.
Their assault faltered, and signs of retreat began to spread.
"Looks like it's working."
Kaede Tsukasa lingered near the rear ranks, doing the bare minimum—at most tossing a shuriken or two for appearance's sake.
No one called him out. In fact, some Konoha shinobi subtly positioned themselves in front of him, blocking enemy sightlines and shielding his movements.
That was the benefit of reputation, of building merit, of showcasing a jaw-dropping trump card: when comrades had the spare capacity, they'd lend you a hand.
The only uncertainty was what people really thought of him. Probably not too bad, he guessed. Yes, he worked with corpses, but in wartime, life and death outweighed such things.
Helping to eliminate enemies and earn victories—that was what made someone truly welcome.
"Once the war is over, though, that will change. Even a hero like Sakumo Hatake was hounded to his death… Ordinary villagers, softened by peace, will surely shun me—maybe even smear me with worse slanders."
Kaede Tsukasa had long since prepared himself for that.
As the battle tilted further in Konoha's favor, their line advanced steadily. Suna's forces gave ground step by step, collapse only a matter of time. Everyone could see victory's light breaking through.
Kaede Tsukasa moved forward with the army, occasionally glancing up to check Dan Katō's position.
At last, the Suna formation broke. Their survivors turned and fled, and Konoha shinobi surged in pursuit. The formations shattered into scattered squads.
But Kaede Tsukasa did not chase. Instead, he stayed behind to sweep the battlefield, waiting more than a full day.
Even then, he remained cautious, sending his zombies to finish off the wounded.
He cut down not only those still breathing, but also corpses—what if someone was playing dead too convincingly?
"What a careful man. Even after creating jutsu to command corpses, you're still this cautious. It might help you live longer, but as long as you remain in that fragile flesh, it's meaningless—you'll rot away all the same."
At the battlefield's edge, a body that had lain there who knew how long twitched. Its joints creaked as it stirred—a puppet, clearly modified. From its mouth came a mechanized voice.
"You must be Sasori of the Red Sand. I heard of you from Yakushi Nonō, but I didn't expect you to be so bold, so impatient." Kaede Tsukasa said evenly.