Chapter 4: The March to War
"Uchiha Raizen, you sly fox! You learned such an advanced technique in secret!" Uchiha Ryoken exclaimed, clapping Uchiha Raizen on the back with a force that was both congratulatory and slightly chastising. There was no envy in his eyes, only genuine happiness for his friend's sudden leap in ability.
"I owe it to both of you," Uchiha Raizen replied, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that felt both familiar and foreign. "If it weren't for your guidance these past few days, I wouldn't have improved so quickly." It was a flimsy cover story, but he had to maintain it.
"You're just full of surprises now, aren't you?" Uchiha Ryoken laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.
Their banter continued as they walked, but the playful mood grew heavier the closer they got to the camp's perimeter. The sounds of training were replaced by the grim silence of those preparing to depart.
"Alright, that's enough," Uchiha Natsume interjected, his youthful voice now carrying a commander's gravity. "We are about to enter a combat zone. Let me brief you on the situation. Our primary enemy is the Senju Clan. Their hallmarks are their superhuman physical stamina and vast chakra reserves. Their patriarch, Senju Butsuma, is a threat that will be handled by our own elite. For us, there are two names you need to fear: Senju Kagenori and Senju Hakuja. Both are masters of taijutsu and ninjutsu, and the squads they lead are exceptionally dangerous. If I give the order to retreat, you disengage immediately. No heroics. No questions. Is that understood?"
"Understood," Uchiha Raizen and Uchiha Ryoken said in unison. Uchiha Raizen's mind, however, was only half on the warning. The rest was fixated on the invisible, glowing treasures he knew were waiting for him on the field. The urge to get there was a physical itch under his skin.
"Good. Then let's move out," Uchiha Natsume commanded.
The three of them set off at a swift pace toward the distant sounds of conflict. Thanks to the Senju Primary Physique Fragment he had absorbed, Uchiha Raizen found he could easily match their speed, his body feeling more capable and resilient than ever before.
They soon met up with the main Uchiha force and reported to Uchiha Tamura, the field commander. The clan patriarch, Uchiha Tajima, remained back at the compound, only involving himself in the most critical engagements.
"You three," Uchiha Tamura said, his eyes scanning them briefly. "You'll attach to Murabayashi's unit. Your objective is flank support. Don't overextend."
"Yes, sir!"
They moved quickly to the designated flank, merging with a larger group of Uchiha fighters. On the battlefield, individual strength mattered, but survival often depended on staying with your unit. To be isolated was to be encircled and killed.
After finding their place within the formation, the three settled into a tense wait. The battle had not yet begun; this was the calm before the storm.
"Uchiha Natsume," Uchiha Raizen whispered, unable to contain his confusion. "I thought we would charge straight into the fight. Why are we just waiting here?"
"If we rushed out blindly, we'd be slaughtered," Uchiha Natsume explained patiently, though his eyes never stopped scanning the tree line. "No one, not even a Senju or one of our top Jonin, can just run freely across a battlefield alone. Not yet."
Uchiha Raizen fell silent. He knew his friend was right, for now. But his mind drifted to the future, to the tales of Madara and Hashirama, who would one day become monsters capable of being armies unto themselves. If Hashirama's Wood Release reached its peak, one man truly would be an army.
"Positions!"
A sharp cry cut through the murmurs. Immediately, the resting shinobi snapped to attention, gathering around Uchiha Tamura.
"Our unit's duty is to contain the enemy's front-line fighters and guard against flanking maneuvers from their allied clans," Uchiha Tamura announced, his voice carrying easily over the assembled ninja. "Move out!"
At the command, the unit surged forward as one. Uchiha Raizen moved with them, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Even before any fighting began, the very air on the battlefield was thick and metallic with the promise of blood. Is this the ground where so many prodigies have fallen? he wondered, a strange, heavy feeling settling in his chest.
As he looked upon the scarred landscape, a peculiar sensation washed over him—a faint, buzzing pressure behind his eyes and a coppery taste in his mouth that wasn't just his imagination. His body felt strange, tense in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
"Hey. Don't let the atmosphere get to you. Losing your focus is a quick way to die out here." Uchiha Natsume's hand landed firmly on his shoulder, pulling him back from the edge of that unsettling feeling.
"Right. Sorry," Uchiha Raizen muttered, shaking his head to clear it. For a moment, the bloodlust in the air had been so palpable he'd almost seen the shinobi around him as glowing red targets. The impulse to strike out had been startlingly strong.
Soon, they reached their assigned position on the front line. The enemy was not yet in sight, but their presence was a tangible pressure from across the field. For now, their orders were simple: wait, watch, and hold the line.