"Kill! Wipe out every last one of the Cypress Clan!"
The roar of the Jinen clan cut through the predawn air like a blade. Their forces surged toward the Cypress clan's first defensive line, trying to break through the barrier that held them at bay.
"Behind you are your friends and family! Defend them! Strike down the Jinen trash!" Kashiwagi Makoto bellowed. The family's wall of ninjas wavered under the relentless assault. He couldn't hold back any longer—he had to lead from the front.
With a fierce battle cry, Makoto charged. The Kashiwagi ninjas rallied behind him, blood pumping, chakra flaring, and struck out at the Jinen forces with everything they had. For a moment, the Jinen troops faltered, forced to retreat under the sudden counterattack, giving the Kashiwagi clan a chance to push out into the wide streets of Uicheng.
"Water Style: Double Dragon Strangulation Technique!"
From the center of the charge, the elite Jōnin of the Kashiwagi clan appeared. Two massive dragons of churning water erupted from the ground, wrapping around four Jinen ninjas and crushing them instantly. Their presence intensified the clash, expanding the battlefield further, though fortunately the surrounding city remained largely untouched.
Explosions rocked the streets. Roofs and walls crumbled under the force of collided chakra. Ordinary citizens peeked from windows, shivering and clutching one another, praying that the war wouldn't consume them. But the families' ninjas, here on business and survival alike, sent spies to track every movement.
Above it all, Raizen perched on his owl, watching the carnage like a gamer surveying a battlefield map. He didn't intervene—yet. Tonight wasn't about heroics; it was about setting the board for maximum chaos. The war between Jinen and Baimu was no longer a matter of diplomacy. It was inevitable, a self-consuming inferno that would leave both clans weakened and open for the Amamiya clan's rise.
The fight raged until eight in the morning. Exhausted, both sides retreated, dragging their dead and wounded with them. Uicheng stank of blood and spent chakra, yet Raizen slept peacefully in his residence, the chaos below nothing more than a distant show.
That peace didn't last long. Kitahara‑san burst in, breathless and wide-eyed.
"Sir! The battle… it's over. But…"
"Relax," Raizen said, lazily waving him off. "Let them tear each other apart a little more. That's the plan."
Once Kitahara‑san left, Raizen began drafting a letter to his grandfather, Amamiya Gen, explaining everything he had orchestrated so far. The message was clear: as long as the Baimu and Jinen clans bled each other, the Amamiya clan would have a chance to claim Uicheng for themselves.
Three days later, the letter reached Gen. At first, he wondered why Raizen had written to him at all. But after reading it, a cold sweat ran down his back—not from fear, but from the sheer audacity and opportunity in his grandson's actions. Uicheng was vulnerable, and if they struck now, the Amamiya clan could rise to middle-class power with almost surgical precision.
Gen couldn't resist. He secretly traveled to Uicheng, determined to see Raizen and assess the situation firsthand. For six days, the city remained quiet. Both clans had scaled back after their brutal clash, mouths busy with threats but bodies weary from the night-long battle. Raizen, knowing this lull, was poised to provoke the next wave.
But before he could strike again, Amamiya Gen arrived in Uiseong, moving under the cover of secrecy.
"Patriarch?!" Kitahara‑san whispered, shocked to see him in person.
Gen nodded to him. "Follow me."
Puzzled, Kitahara‑san obeyed, and together they approached Raizen's residence. A knock on the door, and Raizen opened it to see his grandfather standing there—calm, deliberate, and already weighing the future of Uicheng.
Raizen smirked. Not surprised. He had known Gen wouldn't sit idle once he realized the opportunity. What had caught him off guard was how fast the old man had moved.