The kunai slipped past flesh with a wet, ugly sound. Blood sprayed across the trampled earth, sharp enough to make even hardened Uchiha stare.
"Enough."
Just as the blade angled toward Senju Hashirama's heart, a firm hand seized his wrist. No one even saw him move, but the owner of that grip stood there like a shadow given form.
Uchiha Madara.
He'd stepped in before Hashirama could finish his own life.
"Madara… why?" Hashirama's voice trembled, equal parts sorrow and conviction. "If my death can let our clans finally put aside hatred—"
"Stop." Madara's tone was dry, almost tired, as if talking to someone who refused to grow up. "You're still the same. Do you honestly think dying would fix generations of blood?"
The man who had been called a demon by half the world actually smiled, small and helpless, before shaking his head.
"I've seen the Senju's sincerity. I've seen yours. So…" He inhaled sharply. "On behalf of the Uchiha, I agree to the alliance with the Senju."
"What?"
Hashirama blinked, stunned. "Madara, you mean—"
"Yes," Madara said, trying to ignore the intensity burning in Hashirama's eyes. "I agree."
A laugh burst out of Hashirama's chest, bright and relieved. He ripped the kunai from his chest wound like it was nothing and lunged in for a hug.
"You always do this kind of thing…" Madara muttered, mouth twitching. For a fleeting second he regretted stopping the idiot from stabbing himself.
But that was that. Senju and Uchiha—two giants of the Warring States—finally began their historic merger. In the original "story," this alliance would create Konoha.
Here?
This alliance existed to oppose Konoha.
And Konoha's watching general, Amamiya Raizen, received the news immediately.
Raizen listened in silence, fingers pressed to his temples. He knew the terrifying weight behind the names Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara. One village wasn't built on ideals. It was built on checks and counters. Strength enough to pull others to the table.
And now those two forces were combining.
"Konoha is the heart of everything I've built," Raizen murmured. His voice held that old, tired steel he'd carried since the day he reincarnated into this blood-splattered hellscape. "I won't let anyone stop its rise. Friend or not."
His chakra felt cold in his veins, like winter creeping up his spine.
"Hashirama… Madara… don't hold it against me."
With that, Raizen issued the final command.
Konoha's twenty-thousand shinobi immediately split into four major divisions, sweeping across the southern Fire Country. At the same time, Hyūga Tennin led eight thousand elite ninja straight toward the Senju-Uchiha stronghold.
The world shuddered.
Everyone understood: this was the decisive war for the Fire Country's unification.
If Konoha won, the south would kneel.
If they lost, the wounded clans they crushed might rise again.
The Senju and Uchiha learned of Konoha's advance within hours. Their joint army moved into the ridge mountains in the southern region, transforming the natural barrier into a fortress of steel, chakra, and raw killing intent. Madara and Hashirama themselves took the front line.
But their unity had limits.
The gates of their own clans were defended fiercely.
The smaller allied families?
Ignored entirely.
With no support, those minor clans broke instantly under Konoha's assault. They tried to surrender later, but Konoha—cold and pragmatic—refused. Seven or eight families were wiped out within weeks. The land they held fell quickly.
In just one month, Konoha swallowed one-third of southern Fire Country.
The families who refused to rebel from the start surrendered immediately, handing another third of the land to Konoha without resistance.
Now only the Uchiha and Senju stood against them.
The two clans were shocked by how fast Konoha advanced. Before they fully fused their armies, Konoha had already bulldozed half the south.
Regret came too late.
They should've protected the smaller clans.
Should've supported them.
Should've stopped Konoha before it transformed into a military avalanche.
But regret doesn't stop war.
With two-thirds of the southern territories already fallen, Konoha now focused all forces toward the ridge mountains.
The Uchiha-Senju coalition finally melded into a single, functioning army after a month of friction. Once they did, their strength was overwhelming. Their combined elite halted Konoha's advance at the ridge, refusing to budge another inch.
Raizen watched reports pour into his command tent.
He knew the truth.
If Konoha relied solely on its regular forces, the ridge mountains would never fall.
Not with those two monsters guarding it.
So Raizen rose from his seat, fingers curling around the map like he meant to crush it.
"It seems I have to face them myself. Hashirama. Madara. Let's end this."
He stepped forward.
The ridge mountains awaited.