As Wen Lan's blade tore viciously through the Iwagakure ninja's neck, the man's head flew into the air. Blood sprayed like a fountain, splashing across the surrounding rocks and ground.
Without the slightest hesitation, Wen Lan spun around, his gaze sharp as a hawk as he locked onto the next target.
At this moment, Sarutobi Ciqian was locked in battle with the other Iwagakure ninja, their fight already at a fever pitch!
True to his lineage as a member of the Sarutobi clan, Ciqian was formidable. Ever since the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, took office, the Sarutobi clan had received no shortage of benefits.
Secret techniques and ninja tools flowed steadily into the clan, greatly boosting the overall strength of its members.
With such backing, Sarutobi Ciqian had already seized the rhythm of the fight and gained the upper hand.
Still, finishing the opponent would take time.
Wen Lan didn't have the luxury to wait.
On a battlefield like this, he couldn't do much alone—he still needed the protection of a jōnin!
He flicked his wrist and hurled two shuriken!
The Iwagakure ninja was fully focused on fighting Sarutobi Ciqian. On top of that, Wen Lan hadn't aimed the shuriken to kill—so the enemy's danger sense never triggered.
The blades pierced cleanly into the Iwagakure ninja's shoulder and thigh, forcing his movements to stall.
Seizing the opening, Sarutobi Ciqian slashed out with his kunai, cold steel flashing as it pierced straight into the man's throat.
The Iwagakure ninja's eyes widened. A gurgling sound escaped his throat before he collapsed into a pool of blood.
Sarutobi Ciqian wiped the blood from his face and took a deep breath. Then he turned his gaze toward Wen Lan—
And froze.
Wen Lan stood there with a ninja blade in his right hand, a headless corpse at his feet.
Under the night sky, his Sharingan glowed an eerie crimson.
He's awakened the Sharingan… and it's already two tomoe!
Sarutobi Ciqian's pupils contracted in shock.
Sensing the gaze, Wen Lan slowly turned his head and met Ciqian's eyes, his expression completely indifferent.
For an instant, Ciqian felt a deep chill—as if the boy before him was no longer an ally, but a monster lurking in the darkness.
Then Wen Lan spoke calmly.
"The battle isn't over. Don't lose focus."
Ciqian was stunned for a moment, then nodded, suppressing the unease in his heart.
In the distance, dry leaves rustled in the wind, and the smell of blood hung heavy in the air.
This night raid by the Iwagakure ninja ended in failure under Namikaze Minato's Flying Thunder God Technique.
To be honest, Wen Lan couldn't understand it.
Knowing full well that Minato was present, why would the Iwagakure ninja still launch a night assault? It was clearly a mission doomed to fail.
"Wen Lan-kun, right?"
A cold voice suddenly sounded from behind him.
Wen Lan's pupils shrank. He instantly spun and retreated—only to see Orochimaru standing where he had been a moment ago, studying him with keen interest.
"To awaken a two-tomoe Sharingan at such a young age… your future is boundless," Orochimaru said, licking the corner of his mouth.
"Orochimaru-sir," Wen Lan replied respectfully, though a trace of discomfort churned in his chest.
In this ninja world, respect from juniors to seniors bordered on obsessive.
"No need to be so tense, Wen Lan-kun. I saw your fight—very impressive."
Orochimaru's hoarse voice sounded again.
"To kill a jōnin right after graduating from the Academy… your potential is limitless."
"Thank you for the praise, Orochimaru-sir."
"Work hard," Orochimaru said, giving Wen Lan a meaningful look before turning and disappearing into the night.
Wen Lan remained where he stood, unease stirring in his heart.
He knew all too well—
Orochimaru's interest was far more than simple admiration.
The night wind brushed past. Wen Lan tightened his grip on the blade, his heartbeat slowly steadying.
Orochimaru had appeared right behind him just now, and he hadn't sensed it at all.
Is this the power of a Kage-level ninja?
Next came the grim work of cleaning up the battlefield. The corpses of the Iwagakure ninja were gathered together, the air thick with the stench of blood.
These bodies would later become bargaining chips in negotiations.
After all, no one wanted their comrades to die in a foreign land.
Konoha could use the remains to negotiate with Iwagakure—to exchange for captured Konoha ninja or demand compensation.
Konoha's own fallen would be properly escorted back to the village, to be cremated or buried.
By the time the battlefield was cleared, the sky had already begun to pale. Dawn light spilled across the ground, illuminating the scene of carnage.
Wen Lan slumped into a corner, closing his eyes to rest.
Though he hadn't been injured in his fight with the jōnin, the intense mental focus had left him utterly exhausted.
It wasn't until nearly nine o'clock, after less than two hours of rest, that Wen Lan was woken.
The return convoy had finished assembling.
It was time to head back to Konoha.
Because of the night raid, part of the force had been reassigned to escort the fallen back to the village.
As heroes who had died on the battlefield, using sealing scrolls for them was inappropriate. Their bodies had to be transported directly.
Naturally, it wasn't two people per stretcher.
Instead, one person carried a properly wrapped body on their back. Only when nearing the village gates would they switch to stretchers.
Wen Lan's supply squad was responsible for carrying the foldable stretchers.
The group set out swiftly.
Several days passed.
When they were close to the village entrance, the stretchers were unfolded. The bodies were laid upon them and covered with white cloths, two people lifting each stretcher as they entered the village.
A crowd had already gathered at the gates.
At the front stood the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, wearing the Hokage robes.
Behind him were Shimura Danzō, Koharu Utatane, and Homura Mitokado.
Behind them stood the villagers.
"Welcome home the spirits of our heroes!"
Sarutobi Hiruzen's voice rang out.
The atmosphere instantly turned heavy and oppressive.
Some people panicked, some wept silently, others wore faces of deep grief.
These were the families of the fallen—people Namikaze Minato had already notified in advance, using ninja hawks to ensure they learned of the tragedy as soon as possible.
Standing at the very back of the procession, Wen Lan watched the scene, emotions swirling within him.
Sarutobi Ciqian turned to Wen Lan and the others.
"Dismissed. Go home and rest."
"Yes!"
The children immediately ran off toward their homes. They had been utterly shaken.
Wen Lan, however, kept a cold expression as he walked step by step toward the Uchiha district.
He remained silent the entire way, replaying the battle over and over in his mind—fire and blood intertwined—as he analyzed every detail, determined to refine himself for the next fight.
As for psychological burden?
There was none.
From the moment he arrived in this world, Wen Lan had already prepared himself to kill.
After all, this was a world where human lives were cheaper than grass.
Before long, Wen Lan reached the Uchiha district.
At this time, the Uchiha clan had not yet been relocated to the outskirts of the village.
Looking at the familiar gates of the clan compound, he sighed softly and walked inside.
Just then, a voice suddenly called out from behind him:
"Wen Lan!"