That evening, in the northeastern region of the Land of Lightning.
The setting sun, as red as blood, spilled across the rolling mountain ranges, dyeing the world in a bleak, tragic crimson.
The dense forests stood silent in the deepening dusk, like dark green walls.
The mountain wind howled past the treetops, as if even the land itself were weeping.
At the border between the mountains and the forest, the remnants of Kumogakure's army hastily built a defensive line, relying on the rugged terrain.
Within the camp, scattered bonfires illuminated exhausted, numb faces.
This was the shinobi force led by the Third Raikage, A.
After a disastrous defeat, the original force of thirteen hundred had lost nearly half, with many more severely wounded.
Under such circumstances, A did not dare remain in the Land of Frost any longer.
He led his troops back into the Land of Lightning, but returning home brought no relief—only heavier dread.
In stark contrast to Konoha's celebration, the Kumo camp was shrouded in grief and despair.
From the tents came stifled sobs, and even more heartbreaking were the agonized groans of the critically injured survivors.
Medical-nin hurried from tent to tent.
But Kumo had few medical-nin to begin with, and their chaotic retreat caused them to lose most of their supplies and medicine.
Reinforcements from the village wouldn't arrive until tomorrow evening at the earliest…
In the very center of the camp, inside a tent no different from the others, the Third Raikage A was hunched over a crude wooden desk.
The massive man—built like a brown bear—wore a deep frown.
His thick fingers gripped a brush, leaving heavy, forceful strokes across the document.
Soon, he put the brush down again.
"Kojii!"
At his call, the tent flap lifted.
A familiar young figure quickly entered, knelt on one knee, and said respectfully:
"Raikage-sama."
Kojii's expression was dim, his sharp eyes dulled.
But surviving that nightmarish battle had already been a stroke of fortune.
"Don't use the messenger hawks."
A rolled up the freshly written document, sealed it carefully with a special seal, and handed it over.
His voice was low, but carried unquestionable authority:
"You will return to the village immediately on my behalf.
Deliver this document to Jonin Kurosame personally.
Tell him to draw every capable shinobi from the village and send them to reinforce the front line."
"Remember—place it directly into his hands."
"Yes, sir!"
A flicker of worry flashed across Kojii's face, but he said nothing more.
He bowed, took the document, and exited the tent.
As A watched the shadow of the tent flap settle, his brow tightened further, almost knotting together.
Of course he knew what Kojii was worried about—
and the truth was even more serious than the young man imagined.
This war against Konoha was something A himself had initiated,
in order to secure absolute authority within Kumogakure and divert the internal tensions brewing since the Second Raikage's assassination.
He had hoped for a swift victory to solidify his power and stabilize the village—
but instead, he suffered a crushing defeat.
He could already picture the chaos and uproar that would erupt in Kumo once the reinforcement order and news of their defeat reached the village.
But he had no choice.
At this point, A could no longer afford to worry about internal unrest.
With Konoha's army pressing in, he had to gather more shinobi to face the crisis ahead.
"I can only hope nothing happens in the village before reinforcements arrive…"
A murmured whisper escaped A's lips, a shadow flickering through his eyes before being replaced by firm resolve.
...
Meanwhile, the atmosphere in Konoha's temporary camp was entirely different.
The camp was brightly lit.
Bonfires swayed in the night, casting a warm glow across the neatly arranged tents.
Blood-stained bandages were stacked tidily to one side.
The scent of medicinal herbs mingled with the aroma of cooking fires.
From several bonfires, pots of soup simmered with a gentle gurgle, steam rising softly into the air…
Though bandaged shinobi could be seen resting against tents everywhere, none of their expressions showed despair.
Instead, they carried the relaxed air unique to those who have survived a hard-won battle.
Occasional whispers drifted between the tents, mixed with a few muffled but cheerful laughs.
The whole camp radiated a tired yet triumphant energy, and even the night wind carried a faint, intoxicating warmth.
At the center of the camp stood the temporary command tent.
Senju Mori had just put down his brush and handed two freshly written documents—ink not yet fully dry—to Nara Shikayuki, who stood respectfully beside him.
"Send this victory report back to the village as quickly as possible."
His voice was calm and clear.
He then tapped the other scroll lightly:
"This one is the reinforcement order. Another thousand shinobi will be drawn from the clans. Advisors Shikajō and Hiruzen will personally lead them."
Nara Shikayuki accepted both scrolls respectfully and couldn't help but smile.
"With this, the Raikage won't have even a sliver of hope left."
"He'd better not."
Senju Mori rose to his feet and walked slowly to the massive map hanging on its frame.
His gaze deepened—sharp and unwavering—locking onto the territory of the Land of Lightning.
"The initiative of this war is now in our hands.
And once we have it, we will never give it back easily.
The loser doesn't get to decide when or how a war ends."
The fighting on the battlefield may have ceased for now, but the war between Konoha and Kumogakure was far from over.
Senju Mori would never commit the foolish mistake of—
Achieving a hard-fought, decisive victory, only to release a wounded enemy out of some naïve desire for "peace,"
or some other sentimental reason.
Before the Kumo envoys and countless Konoha shinobi, Senju Mori had already stated Konoha's three conditions for a ceasefire:
A public apology before the entire shinobi world.
A massive war indemnity.
Recognition of Konoha's ownership of the Six Paths Treasured Tools.
He intended to sink his teeth into Kumogakure while the opportunity was ripe—
to make them pay dearly for starting this war,
and to ensure that every Konoha shinobi tasted the sweetness of victory.
Beyond that, even aside from the need for additional manpower, Senju Mori wanted more shinobi to come to the front.
After all, hearing is one thing; seeing is another.
Having more shinobi witness this victory with their own eyes could only work to his advantage.
Despite this brilliant triumph, Senju Mori had not been blinded by the thrill of success.
He remained cautious.
He knew he did not yet possess absolute strength like Senju Hashirama or Uchiha Madara, capable of dominating the entire shinobi world.
Their victory against Kumogakure came from a combination of intelligence, strategy, timing, and many intersecting factors.
Thus, Senju Mori did not rush to pursue the retreating enemy.
Instead, with sensory-nin carefully scouting the terrain, he planned to wait for reinforcements while steadily advancing toward the Land of Lightning.
The next stage of the war had already begun—
quietly, in the slow march and tense standoff that followed.