The Land of Fire,
"Senju Butsuma!!"
"Uchiha Tajima!!"
Thud, thud, thud...
Two armored figures charged at each other like colliding meteors. Sparks flew as their katana clashed. Two completely different chakra waves collided with deafening force, creating a shockwave that surged outward like a TNT explosion.
The elite forces assembled by the Senju and Uchiha clans covered their eyes and retreated instantly, leaving the battlefield's center to the two strongest clan leaders of the era.
The sun rose and the moon set. Dawn broke again.
The battle had raged for a full day and night. Even as the first rays of sunlight crept across the pale eastern horizon, the duel between the two powerful clan leaders showed no signs of stopping.
In an era of low productivity and scarce resources, harsh conditions tempered human will. Chakra from the Divine Tree's fruit endowed ninjas with superhuman physical strength and endurance, allowing them to fight like monsters. They constantly tore at enemy wounds, peeled away skin and flesh, searching for that single opportunity to deliver a fatal blow.
The war between Senju and Uchiha clans stretched back generations. Their superhuman chakra reserves made every battle a test of endurance and bladder strength.
Today's match was no exception.
Under their respective clan leaders' cover, the black and red armies threw shuriken and explosive tags at each other, unleashing wide-range ninjutsu. The lines formed by fire and water techniques were clearly defined. Both sides tacitly abandoned their entanglement, collected their wounded, and retreated from the battlefield.
Another peaceful day in the ninja world.
The sun climbed higher.
At a mountain's summit, on a steep cliff, sat a tall figure bathed in golden sunlight. His perfectly sculpted body resembled the finest Renaissance sculpture.
Basking in the light, Jordan Evans—face obscured—let out a soft sigh.
Ultimately, Jordan had chosen the Naruto world.
The moment the portal closed, this was the scene that greeted him upon arrival:
In the distance, on a lush wooded valley battlefield, two armies faced each other across the field.
Two young men with immense chakra reactions stood at their forces' vanguard. One had black hair and black eyes, long hair reaching his waist, an upright and unyielding face, wearing ancient red armor from the Warring States period. The other had a cold face and sinister aura. Beneath spiky hair, a pair of slowly rotating three-tomoe Sharingan blazed red. He held a massive fan tall as a person.
The moment they charged at each other with battle cries, Jordan had been undoubtedly overjoyed.
Could he witness the two ninja gods piloting Gundams live?
This was Madara Uchiha at his peak fighting Hashirama Senju!
Could there be such good fortune?
Someone excitedly pulled out metaphorical sunflower seeds and a stool, ready to experience the famous Battle of the Final Valley live.
But then...
As it turned out, the two men shouting during their charge weren't yelling "Hashirama" and "Madara" at all!
The whole fantasy collapsed.
The Mind Network, beyond the ninjas' comprehension, blanketed the entire area. Only a few sensory-type ninjas detected vague confusion or cautiously looked around, but ultimately found nothing.
Mind Network's carriers were magnetic fields and psychic power. As for Jordan's actual body, positioned over ten kilometers away on a high mountain, even an Uzumaki clan member with Kagura's Mind's Eye activated might not sense his chakra reaction at this distance. And there were no Uzumaki present anyway.
Conversely, Jordan—over ten kilometers from the battlefield—quickly learned the identities of both sides' leaders through his surveillance.
They were the fathers of Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha.
The battlefield was dominated by these two. Judging by their excessively youthful appearance, this era predated even the birth of Hashirama and Madara.
As for those two future trendsetters? They were possibly still in diapers, grinding levels, or their parents were still planning to conceive them.
That's why Jordan had sighed earlier.
Not that the ninja world would stop turning without them. Rather, the two fattest sheep in the pen had just disappeared.
The fate of the great inventor Tobirama Senju was also unknown.
One of Jordan's key objectives for this trip was the "Shadow Clone Technique" developed by Tobirama—a physical clone inheriting the same amount of the original's chakra and most combat power, with several upgraded versions incorporating nature transformations. One of the ninja world's most troublesome techniques.
He'd hoped to finally free his hands after this trip, but it seemed the plan required postponement.
Still, the sheepfold was vast. No, the ninja world was vast. There was always something to harvest. No need to hang himself on one tree.
For now: gather intelligence first.
Uchiha front-line base.
The camps overflowed with wounded soldiers.
There was no such thing as an unkillable war, not even for ninjas who were all superhuman.
Most Uchiha stayed in their tents, silently licking wounds.
The ragtag army of vassal ninjas and hired ronin suffered worse fates, casualties even heavier. The camp filled with agonized cries. Due to severe lack of medical resources, many could only die screaming.
Survivors were tasked with cleaning the battlefield and disposing of fallen comrades' bodies.
The Senju's situation wasn't much better, of course.
In the central command tent, Uchiha Tajima glared furiously. His right hand, brimming with chakra, shattered the chair's armrest.
His left hand was covered in blood, a deep bone-revealing gash running from shoulder to arm. A medical support frantically cut open his sleeve, using ninjutsu to stop the bleeding.
Uchiha Tajima acted as if the arm weren't his own. After listening to his clan's messenger, he roared angrily. "Despicable Senju! Taking advantage of me being tied up on the front lines to launch sneak attacks on our supply routes. They always resort to underhanded tricks—nothing but petty behavior!"
"What's the damage?"
The Uchiha who brought news knelt on one knee before the tent. "Reporting to the Clan Leader: we lost two grain transport teams. The grain they escorted was also stolen. And there's also—"
Enraged, Uchiha Tajima's handsome face—inheriting the excellent Uchiha bloodline—contorted in fury. He was about to unleash a torrent of abuse when he realized his subordinate had more to say. He stopped himself.
"What? There's more?"
"Yes. Beyond this grain shipment, a weapons and supplies convoy was also stolen. Logistical supply to the front lines may be tight in the near future..."
Uchiha Tajima was taken aback. As he pondered, the angry expression gradually subsided, transforming into calm calculation that was somehow more terrifying and sinister.
Chilling, captivating chakra spread outward, instantly plunging the entire tent into still, eerie silence.
The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.
Uchiha Tajima's Sharingan slowly rotated, three tomoe spinning like a pinwheel of death.