Om…
The world flashed white.
A roar like the birth of creation thundered across the plains. Everything caught in the cone of light—earth, bone, and breath—shattered into glittering dust.
No screams. No pain.
The Kaguya shinobi simply watched their bodies crumble away, their final expressions frozen in confusion as they turned to nothing.
When the radiance faded, the battlefield had changed beyond recognition.
A crater stretched where hundreds of men had stood. Not even ash remained.
One blow.
That was all it took to erase one-fifth of the Kaguya forces.
And the rest finally understood—they weren't facing a man. They were fighting something else.
"Can we… really win against that?" one Kaguya whispered, voice trembling.
"Stop talking nonsense! We die standing, not running!"
A Kaguya Jōnin bellowed, cutting down his own subordinate before the panic could spread.
His voice cracked with grief but carried the clan's madness.
"Only cowards flee! Kaguya warriors, with me—charge!"
The survivors screamed, surging forward like dying beasts.
Toad Zhan roared, leaping high before slamming into the enemy ranks. The ground shook.
A tidal wave of toad oil poured from his mouth, coating the grass.
Raizen followed instantly—hands forming seals, lungs expanding.
"Fire Style: Toad Oil Flame Bomb!"
A torrent of flame erupted, igniting the slick battlefield.
The firestorm devoured everything it touched; heat shimmered, screams echoed, the stench of burning filled the air.
"Amamiya will win this war!" Raizen shouted from atop the toad's head, voice cutting through the chaos like thunder.
To the Amamiya below, it wasn't just a declaration—it was salvation.
Their tired eyes lit up. Reverence. Fury. Hope.
In that moment, they weren't the forgotten clan anymore.
They were shinobi.
"For the Clan!"
The cry spread like wildfire. Amamiya blades met Kaguya bone, and the plains turned red.
Minutes blurred into hours.
The Kaguya's formation collapsed. Their morale broke beyond repair.
One final horn sounded—low, desperate.
"Retreat! Kaguya, fall back!"
A weary Jōnin from their side shouted the order through clenched teeth. Tears glistened in his eyes.
To lose against a no-name clan… to lose to that man—Raizen—who stood atop a toad like a god or demon.
It was humiliation beyond words.
The Kaguya survivors withdrew into the distance, their howls fading into smoke.
And then it happened—
"The Kaguya are retreating!"
"The Kaguya are running!"
"We… we won!"
The shout rippled across the Amamiya ranks. Exhaustion gave way to elation.
Some fell to their knees, laughing. Others cried.
Raizen stood atop Toad Zhan, eyes hard despite the victory.
Don't relax yet… not until it's really over.
He turned westward. The smell of smoke still hung thick in the air.
They'd won this field—but the western front was collapsing.
"Amamiya warriors!" Raizen's voice rang out. "We've secured the front! Half of you will hold this position. The rest—come with me! We're reinforcing the west!"
"Yes, sir!"
No hesitation this time.
After witnessing his strength, the clan's doubts had burned away completely.
For the first time, they saw Raizen not as a reincarnated outsider—but as their leader.
Their anchor.
As they regrouped, Raizen allowed himself a single quiet breath.
Seven years…
When he first woke up in this cursed era, the Amamiya were barely a hundred souls.
Then came the annexation of the Ueshi Clan, the conquest of Ichi Fortress, the endless skirmishes.
Now, a thousand trained shinobi. Two thousand clan members.
Seven years of clawing upward from nothing.
Not bad… for a bunch of nobodies.
But deep down, he knew the truth—strength wasn't everything.
The clan still carried the small-village mentality: fear of extinction, hesitation to risk.
That would change only through blood, fire, and victories like this one.
As the smoke cleared, Raizen tightened his headband and turned toward the distant sounds of battle.
"Let's move. West front won't hold without us."
Toad Zhan vanished in a puff of smoke, his duty done.
Raizen led his unit through the charred plains, the remnants of war crunching beneath their sandals.
The west battlefield was already chaos when they arrived.
Explosions lit the sky. Earth walls rose and shattered. Fire and smoke collided like living beasts.
Without Raizen there, the Amamiya were barely hanging on.
At the center stood Amamiya Ten, back straight, blood staining his flak jacket.
He commanded through the noise, voice unwavering.
"Earth Style division—fortify the left flank! Don't give them an inch!"
Even knowing defeat was inevitable, Ten refused to retreat.
If the west fell, the clan fell. Simple as that.
Under his command, the terrain itself shifted—earthen ramparts rising to block advancing Kaguya, slowing their charge.
The air was thick with grit and chakra static.
Ten's knuckles were white around his kunai.
"Damn it… how much longer until reinforcements?"
His words vanished beneath another explosion.
The Kaguya pressed harder—madness in their eyes, bone spurs glinting white in the firelight.
Each impact shook the ground.
Each scream cut a little deeper.
And yet, the Amamiya held.
Just barely.
...
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