Chương 68: Fugaku Uchiha’s Advance

Dozens of corpses were piled together in a grim heap. Some were whole, others fragments of what they once were, though the Mist shinobi—now departed for the Pure Land—no longer had the capacity to care. They had fought, they had failed, and they had been swept away in a single, overwhelming tide. There was little else to say. The Konoha shinobi who had been held in reserve began to swarm the area, cleaning the battlefield, tending to the wounded, or gathering the remains of their fallen brothers.

War was never bloodless. Even in an encirclement where Konoha held the absolute advantage, the desperate, dying counterattacks of the Mist had exacted a significant toll. But it was, undeniably, a victory. At a minimal cost, Konoha had neutralized over forty high-level Mist elites. For Kirigakure, whose forces were already strained to the breaking point on the Land of Fire's front, this blow was catastrophic. Medical ninjas moved with practiced efficiency among the survivors.

Dongye Zhen was spared from duty this time; truth be told, he was exhausted. He had been cycling through chakra all day, and while his body could still endure, his mental reserves were frayed. He sat on the periphery with Hayate Gekko and Yugao Uzuki, watching the flurry of activity. The enemy corpses were lined up like carcasses in a butcher's stall—inspected, recorded, and sealed away in scrolls for further processing.

To a hidden village, a dead ninja was a treasure trove of intelligence; their bodies could be picked apart for secrets of the mind and the esoteric mysteries of their jutsu. Zhen let himself fall backward, collapsing onto the cool grass. Yugao jumped, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Zhen! What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Hmm? No," Zhen replied, staring up at the shifting clouds.

"It's just been a long day. I want to enjoy the victory for a moment."

"You scared me to death!" Yugao breathed, a hand over her heart as she let out a long sigh of relief.

"Yugao, Sensei said Zhen is stronger than he is. How could he get hurt by these guys?" Hayate offered a word of comfort, though his gaze remained fixed on the rows of Mist dead.

"Hey, Zhen... don't you think war is just... hollow? Those Mist ninjas died for nothing. They, like so many others, threw their lives away in this meat grinder. What did they actually gain?" Zhen replied without looking up.

"They gained liberation. Their souls can finally rest in the Pure Land. They don't have to kill for villages, nations, or ancient grudges anymore."

"I just don't understand why the other villages started this. They've paid such a staggering price. What could possibly be worth all this?"

"The 'benefits' are endless..." Zhen paused, tilting his head to look at Hayate. What was wrong with this guy today? First Shisui, and now Hayate was starting to ponder the grand philosophy of existence? Was there a "Beginner's Wall" for the shinobi profession? Did everyone enter a period of existential dread once they got used to the business of killing? He looked at his friend, his expression turning serious.

"Hayate, tell me—are you actually pitying these Mist ninjas?"

"What? No!" Hayate shook his head instantly.

"Good. Because you need to remember your stance. They are invaders. Whatever their reasons, the moment they stepped into another nation's territory, they had to be prepared to die. Imagine if we had lost today. Those corpses on the grass would be you, me, Yugao, and half the civilians in that town over there. No one would be standing around pitying us." Yugao nodded fervently.

"Exactly! They're the ones who brought this to the Land of Fire. They got what they deserved. Honestly, I hope the other villages follow them to the grave." If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Hayate coughed awkwardly, glancing at the nonchalant Zhen.

"Zhen... sometimes it feels like you actually enjoy this."

"I don't enjoy the war," Zhen corrected him.

"I just enjoy the fight. I like a life that has a bit of fire in it."

"Is that so? Well, I doubt anyone truly likes the war itself."

"Who says?" Zhen pointed toward the distance, where Fugaku Uchiha was standing tall, engaged in a spirited discussion with Suzaku Nara and several other Jonin.

"Look at Lord Fugaku. He seems to be enjoying himself quite a bit." Hayate: "..." In truth, Fugaku Uchiha didn't love war, but he loved what this specific war represented for his clan: an unprecedented opportunity. Previously, the front was commanded by Orochimaru, with Suzaku Nara acting as the tactical mind. To make matters worse, Hiashi Hyuga had been there, and the two clan heads had never quite seen eye-to-eye.

Though the Uchiha had contributed the most and bled the most on the eastern front, they held little actual authority. If they won, the world would credit Orochimaru's genius, not Uchiha valor. But the board had shifted. Orochimaru was frequently absent and increasingly indifferent to command. Hiashi had been redeployed to the northern front. Suzaku was a brilliant strategist, but he was merely a consultant. That left Fugaku as the ranking officer with the final say.

Today's victory was achieved under his direct leadership. He hadn't just eliminated a detachment of elites; he had purged the threat to the rear and unraveled a Mist conspiracy. Now, while the Mist was reeling, it was the perfect time to drive them back across the sea and claim total victory. When that happened, the lion's share of the glory would belong to him—and by extension, the Uchiha. To restore the honor of the Uchiha... it begins with this campaign!

The Clan Head's ambitions were beginning to burn with an uncontrollable intensity. By the time they returned to the command camp, night had long since fallen. Zhen and his teammates ate a quick dinner and washed up before turning in early. Their bodies and spirits were spent, and they needed sleep to recover. Most of the squads that had seen combat that day did the same. The unfortunate Yunmi Gekko, however, was dragged off to the command tent for a late-night briefing.

As a Jonin, he was part of the village's high-level hierarchy and a vital combat asset. On the eastern front, where such men were in short supply, his presence at major meetings was mandatory. Inside the tent, the lamps burned bright. Fugaku Uchiha had been at the heart of the day's fighting, but despite his physical fatigue, he was in a state of high spirits. Had he activated his Sharingan, the crimson would likely have glowed brighter than ever before. He surveyed his colleagues.

"Gentlemen, it is time to bring this war with the Mist to a close."

"After consulting with Suzaku-senpai, we have concluded that the enemy is at their weakest. We should strike while the iron is hot, crush them entirely, and restore peace to the southeastern borders of the Land of Fire. What say you?" The Jonin whispered among themselves for a moment before a consensus emerged. They were all weary. Some had been fighting various villages since the war's inception without a break. They had watched comrades fall and fresh recruits take their place in a seemingly endless cycle.

The prospect of ending one front permanently was a relief they all craved. In the Great Shinobi War, even a Jonin lived on borrowed time; the sooner it ended, the better their chances of seeing another spring.

"Lord Fugaku," one asked, "what is the specific timeline and the direction of the assault?" Fugaku pointed to the tactical map.

"Our primary objectives are the Mist strongholds established within the former Land of Whirlpools. Intelligence suggests the bulk of their remaining forces are concentrated on that peninsula. Once those are cleared, the Mist in the Land of Waves will be isolated and toothless. They will have no choice but to retreat to the Land of Water. We strike in two days." At that moment, the Sarutobi Jonin leading Asuma's squad spoke up.

"Suzaku-senpai, does Lord Orochimaru know of this decision?" Fugaku's expression soured slightly. Could you not have asked that in private, you damn Sarutobi? Suzaku Nara shot a glance at Fugaku before addressing the room.

"Lord Orochimaru is aware. He has delegated full authority over this operation to Clan Head Fugaku and myself." With that, the dissent vanished. Fugaku waved a hand with newfound authority.

"Very well. It is decided. Return to your units and prepare. In two days, we launch the counter-offensive!"

"Understood!" As the Jonin filed out of the tent, Fugaku felt a strange sense of melancholy mixed with pride. Commanding the village's Jonin felt fundamentally different from leading his own clansmen. This, perhaps, was the true taste of a Hokage's power. It was a pity it was only temporary. If only it were permanent... he could not only hold the village's highest authority but finally realize the Uchiha's long-standing dream.

He didn't consider himself a man possessed by a lust for power, but sitting in the seat of the Clan Head, he often found himself pushed forward by the collective will of his kin, even when he wished to stand still. Sometimes, the path he walked felt entirely out of his own hands.