Chapter 48 — Our Army Has Three Advantages… Yet the Enemy Has an Early-Warning Plane
"Quiet. Not a sound. We strike only when we've crawled all the way to their forward line."
Whispers, barely audible, drifted through the darkness masking the outer rings of Sound Mountain Fortress.
Perhaps even Heaven had grown weary of Oda Nobunaga blasting impoverished shinobi with endless crates of explosive tags.
Tonight, the moon hid itself. The stars sealed their doors.
And, as if conspiring with the night, thick banks of cloud rolled in from nowhere.
The entire mountainside was now black as ink—
the perfect blessing for vengeful Cloud shinobi seeking payback for their disastrous defeat earlier that day.
The main forces of Kumogakure advanced with chests full of burning fury.
Led by their jōnin and chūnin squad leaders, they crawled forward hand-and-foot,
slipping into the scorched graveyard that had once been their vanguard.
---
"Dodai-dono, rest assured—this night raid will achieve glorious results!"
One jōnin commented cheerfully from the rear.
Apparently a single boast wasn't enough, so he stepped forward, pointing grandly at the distant fortress.
"Look at the terrain—pitch black everywhere except for the torches atop the enemy fortress."
"They can't see us at all beneath this veil of night. But we can use their firelight as a guiding beacon!"
"This is what we call terrain advantage!"
He continued, voice swelling:
"Our shinobi, enraged by their despicable tactics earlier and the vanguard's tragic annihilation, now fight with the desperation of the wounded."
"This is what we call unity of hearts!"
"And as for heavenly advantage—surely I needn't say more?"
He ended with a triumphant smile.
"And what about sensory ninjutsu?"
Another jōnin cut in, unimpressed.
Not out of pessimism—simply because premature celebration was asking for disaster.
After witnessing Nobunaga's new style of warfare earlier,
the cautious jōnin wanted everyone to consider the variables properly.
The boasting jōnin, however, only looked more delighted.
"Ah yes, sensory ninja—
the rarest of rare birds."
"The strongest sensory-type in the world belongs to that overrated village Konoha.
Even we in Cloud barely have a handful."
"And Sound Village? They're nothing. What sensory ninja could they possibly have?"
"Even if they did—what could they sense on a night like this?"
He spread his arms as if reciting poetry.
"As long as we Cloud shinobi display our fearless spirit—under the glory of Kumogakure,
under the banner of the Fourth Raikage,
and, most importantly, under Dodai-dono's command—"
"Tonight, victory is ours! The enemy will fall!"
And then, smirking, he added:
"Don't forget—their explosive-tag bombardment weakened significantly by dusk.
We even retrieved survivors from the vanguard."
Dodai, who had been silent all this time, finally nodded.
He too felt the tide turning.
He too believed that Heaven, Earth, and People were on their side.
How could they possibly fail?
His eyes blazed with vengeful fire, as if determined to burn the fortress down with sheer hatred alone.
But reality was harsher than their optimism.
For Sound Village—despite the jōnin's confident claims—
Nobunaga truly had no sensory ninja to spare.
Excluding Jūgo, who functioned in a unique "cross-domain" role,
and the still-unawakened Uzumaki mother and daughter…
Sound had none.
Yet a lack of sensory ninja did not mean a lack of detection.
Because Nobunaga had something even better:
An early-warning craft circling silently above the battlefield.
Hidden beneath the clouds, the aerial command ship lowered altitude with the cover of night.
Its "Cat-Eye Sennin" operators—shinobi trained to spot movement at extreme distances,
imitating ancient Earth technology—surveyed everything below.
Every reading was double-checked by Jūgo,
whose communion with wildlife extended across the entire battlefield.
Thus—
The moment Cloud shinobi began sneaking forward toward the fortress,
Nobunaga's forces already knew.
They simply waited, allowing more targets to step into the kill zone.
"Still not attacking?"
Orochimaru, still lounging in the command center, asked in a tone that slithered like a knife.
"You've let them come so far they're nearly at your second defensive line."
"One mistake… and you'll lose everything."
Nobunaga didn't even blink.
"You think I only know how to fling explosive tags?"
His eyes narrowed with calm confidence.
He waited—counting silently—
and then issued the order.
---
Sound Mountain roared to life again—
a volcano of steel and fire
Cloud shinobi froze mid-advance.
The fortress erupted in a tidal wave of kunai and explosive tags,
far more intense than anything they'd seen during the day.
The jōnin who had boasted "three advantages" earlier fell utterly silent,
watching the battlefield with clenched jaw and trembling hands.
Prayers formed in his mind, though he dared not voice them.
"Do not panic."
Dodai's voice finally rose—steady, controlled.
Despite his knuckles whitening, he forced himself to remain the anchor of his men.
With careful observation, he found reassurance:
The strikes were scattered.
The bombardment lacked the seamless coverage from earlier.
Good.
Night had hindered the fortress' accuracy!
Victory was still possible—
"Wait… no…"
A chill surged through Dodai's spine.
He looked harder.
Every blast, every scattered volley—
all landed exactly where he had deployed his raiding squads.
"Why…? How…?!"
His breath caught. The world spun.
He nearly collapsed as the horrifying truth dawned:
The enemy could see them.
In the dark.
Perfectly.
And far ahead on the killing field,
Yuki—dragging wounded allies and scrambling for any direction of escape—
screamed in despair.
"Why!? WHY!?"
No matter where he ran,
the kunai with explosive tags followed like guided weapons.
It was as if the bombs had eyes—
or worse…
Someone above was watching their every move.