Yamanaka Inoichi was frozen in place, unable to tear his gaze away from the scene before him. The Konoha shinobi behind him stood similarly shocked—eyes bulging, mouths agape as though they could each swallow an entire orange.
Amazing.
Absolutely amazing.
The sudden appearance of a crackling blue power grid stretched like an electrified net across the grasslands, perfectly bisecting the path the Kumo forces had charged through. It appeared at the perfect moment—calculated to the second. The Kumo shinobi who hadn't the time to dodge could only scream in terror as they were torn apart by the grid, their bodies convulsing under the voltage before being reduced to charred flesh and crimson mist.
Only then did Yamanaka Inoichi realize what Namikaze Mirai had been waiting for.
He wasn't waiting for an opportunity to attack.
He was waiting for the Kumo shinobi... to die.
A chill crept down Inoichi's spine, prickling the nape of his neck. In that moment, his entire perception of Namikaze Mirai shifted. The man wasn't just fast—he was calculating, ruthless, and coldly brilliant.
"Mirai..." Inoichi muttered under his breath.
As though hearing him, Mirai glanced sideways at him, his sharp eyes reflecting the crackling light of the power grid. His voice was calm—measured—but it carried a weight that felt heavy in Inoichi's chest.
"Inoichi... times have changed."
His tone was even, yet absolute. "If you keep viewing the world through the lens of the past, you'll never keep up. The times will evolve, with or without you. You'll be left behind... discarded."
Inoichi took a deep breath. Though the words were spoken with calm detachment, the message behind them was explosive.
Mirai wasn't just talking about the battlefield.
He was talking about Konoha.
About the entire shinobi system.
About the Sarutobi faction that had dominated the village for decades.
It was time... to make a choice.
Should the Yamanaka, Nara, and Akimichi clans continue to walk in the shadows of the Sarutobi? Or should they embrace this new era—this rising storm of change?
Inoichi felt the weight of history on his shoulders. This war wasn't just about borders or villages. It was about the soul of Konoha itself.
And it was only just beginning.
Before he could dwell further, a roar cut through the air like thunder.
"Retreat! Stop charging!!" screamed Dodai, commander of the Kumo forces.
Panic spread like wildfire through the Kumo ranks. Their forward lines had been eviscerated—at least a hundred men reduced to steaming corpses. Blood soaked the once-green plains, and morale shattered like glass under pressure.
The once-formidable Kumo vanguard came to an awkward halt before the glowing grid, unable to advance, unwilling to retreat.
Dodai, who had been commanding from the rear, clenched his fists tightly as he grit his teeth in frustration. His eye twitched in disbelief.
He had accounted for Namikaze Mirai. He had anticipated countermeasures. He had thought this renewed offensive would reclaim their honor after the embarrassment suffered during their last clash.
And yet...
Just moments into the battle, they had already taken a massive loss.
"Destroy the barricades!!" Dodai barked.
"Lightning-style ∙ Earth Walk!"
"Earth-style ∙ Earth-Splitting Palm!"
A chorus of Kumo shinobi unleashed their ninjutsu at the barrier. Lightning crackled. Earth split. The grid flickered as elemental blasts collided with it, finally breaking down the structure.
But just as the barrier fell, another voice rang out across the battlefield.
"Charge."
That single word from Namikaze Mirai ignited the powder keg.
With a thunderous roar, the Konoha shinobi, long suppressed, surged forward like a released tide.
"FOR KONOHA!!"
"CHARGE!!"
Steel gleamed. Chakra flared. Screams filled the air as the Kumo troops—still reeling from the barrier's destruction—were overwhelmed. The Konoha shinobi struck with precision and ferocity, their blades cutting down enemies who had barely regained their footing.
The timing was flawless.
Mirai had orchestrated it like a symphony of death.
The Kumo formation fractured like brittle stone. In mere moments, the tide of the battle flipped violently.
Kumo shinobi fell by the dozens, and still, the Konoha onslaught didn't falter.
Dodai watched helplessly as his carefully structured formation descended into chaos. He seethed.
'That damned Namikaze Mirai. His psychological warfare was impeccable. First, the power grid—disrupting their charge and cutting into morale. Then, the perfectly timed counteroffensive.'
"...But the real battle has yet to begin." Dodai muttered to himself, a faint sneer tugging at his lips.
The outcome wouldn't be decided by mere foot soldiers.
"The real war begins now."
And as if on cue, a bloodcurdling scream tore through the Konoha ranks.
Heads turned in unison.
Amid the confusion, Yugito—bathed in eerie, flickering blue flames—emerged like a ghost from legend. Her ten fingers extended into deadly claws, and her feline movements made her seem more like a demon than a shinobi. She danced through the battlefield with monstrous grace.
*Shlkt!*
A single claw pierced a shinobi's chest, and with a twist, the man exploded in a fountain of blood and entrails.
*Fshhhhh!*
High-pressure jets of gore misted the battlefield as Yugito moved, one kill after another.
She was like a blue wraith in the crimson rain.
"Damn it! It's Nii Yugito! The Two-Tails' Jinchūriki!"
"Where the hell were our intel teams?! We're in deep trouble now!"
The Konoha shinobi fell back in fear. They had no countermeasures against a perfect jinchūriki, especially one like Yugito who could fully draw on her Tailed Beast's power.
In minutes, over ten Konoha shinobi had fallen to her claws.
Dodai's expression twisted into a smug grin. Finally, the tide would turn.
But on the Konoha side, Inoichi turned to Mirai, hopeful. "Will you take the field?"
Only he could match a Jinchūriki in battle. Everyone knew it.
But Mirai gave a small shake of his head.
"Not yet."
Inoichi frowned. Why not?! Was there another ace up his sleeve?
Moments later, his answer arrived in the form of thunderous war cries from the right flank.
A massive group of Uchiha shinobi surged onto the field—Sharingan flaring like dozens of crimson stars. They howled as one, wild with anticipation.
"For the glory of Uchiha!!"
"TAKE HER DOWN!!"
Yugito froze mid-slash, a chill running down her spine. She turned—and what she saw made her heart leap in terror.
Over a hundred Uchiha, eyes red and spinning with deadly precision, were charging straight at her. Their crazed gazes saw her not as a threat... but as prey.
"Oh no."
Yugito turned and fled. No hesitation. Even a Jinchūriki knew better than to face a bloodthirsty Uchiha warband alone.
"Where the hell did all these Uchiha come from?!"
The Uchiha gave chase, hurling Fire-style jutsu, kunai, and shuriken in an unrelenting storm. They burned through friend and foe alike in their pursuit. Kumo shinobi unlucky enough to be near Yugito were instantly incinerated, chopped down, or trampled by the crimson-eyed pack.
From afar, Shiranui Genma, Raido, and other veterans of Namikaze Mirai's old squad stared at the scene, wide-eyed.
"We can't let the Uchiha steal the spotlight!"
"Come on! If we hesitate now, we'll lose face before the future Hokage!"
Driven by competitive fire, they, too, charged with renewed fervor.
Konoha's momentum became unstoppable.
Dodai, watching it all unfold, felt a chill he hadn't expected.
The battlefield... was no longer following his plan.
In fact, it was following Namikaze Mirai's script.
And the ending?
Was getting further and further from Kumo's favor.
*****
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