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Chapter 87N
🕑 Added 2025-07-05 15:05:02 +0000 UTCChapter 87N
Late at night, dim lights flickered faintly atop a steep sea cliff. It was a team of Konohagakure shinobi assigned to night patrol. They walked step by step toward the cliff edge against the cold, piercing sea wind, raising wind lanterns to illuminate the abyss below. In truth, these feeble beams could not dispel the deep darkness beneath the cliff.
However, their real “eyes” were the Hyūga clan’s branch house chūnin, protected in the center of the formation.
The wind lantern was merely a decoy on the surface. Should an enemy ambush occur, the one holding the lantern would most likely be the first target, serving to shield the team’s “eyes.” Because of the risk, that task was typically rotated among the members—excluding the Hyūga—one at a time.
“Let’s hope tonight passes peacefully.”
The middle-aged man carrying the lantern peered over the edge into the black cliff face and the roaring tide below.
Unfortunately, people in different places cannot enjoy the light of the same moon. A thick layer of clouds obscured the moonlight, making the night even darker than usual. The shinobi squinted and lowered the lantern further, trying to make out the view below with what little light it cast.
Behind him, the Hyūga chūnin activated the Byakugan.
At that very moment, within the sound of crashing waves came a faint noise—the air being torn apart.
“Watch out! Enemy attack!”
The Hyūga shinobi saw it as soon as he activated the Byakugan—human-shaped chakra signatures blazing like torches below the cliff. The foreign chakra made it clear these were intruders. But his warning came a moment too late: a kunai, coated with anti-reflective material, sliced through the lantern bearer’s throat.
Blood sprayed from the deep, long cut across his neck. Crimson droplets bloomed in the night.
The wavering corpse and the lantern plummeted together into the abyss. With the lantern extinguished, the cliff was swallowed again by total darkness. But the man had fulfilled his role: he had taken the first deadly strike meant for the team’s eyes.
A specially made signal flare shot into the sky, lighting the signal of war.
The Mist had arrived.
...................................
..........
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The news of war was immediately relayed back to Konoha. The village leadership quickly assembled in the Hokage's office. Acting Fifth Hokage, Akimichi Torifu, sat behind the large desk, reading the report from the eastern border defense force.
The contents were simple: Mist shinobi had appeared on the eastern coast of the Land of Fire. The village was requested to dispatch reinforcements.
It was direct and succinct to an extreme.
“Shikaku, is everyone here?”
Torifu looked up at Nara Shikaku standing beside the desk.
“Commander Uchiha has not arrived yet,” Shikaku replied respectfully.
Yes—every department head and clan leader had dropped their work and rushed to the Hokage Building as soon as the ANBU summons came. Yet the central figure of this emergency meeting, Uchiha Rēn, had yet to appear.
After all, based on earlier discussions, Uchiha Rēn had been chosen as the supreme commander to lead the battle against the Mist. And yet, the appointed leader was late.
Torifu frowned slightly, feeling a tinge of irritation.
He didn’t lose his temper—Uchiha Rēn’s strength and the power of the Uchiha clan justified some tolerance—but the displeasure couldn’t be ignored.
“This isn’t the first time Uchiha Rēn has been late,” Shikaku thought. Whether during Sarutobi Hiruzen’s era or now under Torifu, Rēn was habitually late to meetings.
Clang! Clang!
Strange metallic sounds echoed from the hallway.
“My apologies, Lord Hokage. Forgive my tardiness—it took some time to gather my gear.” The half-open door was pushed in soundlessly. Rēn, fully armored, stepped into the room.
Then—
“Uchiha Madara?!”
Torifu suddenly stood up, knocking over his chair. His large frame shoved the desk two inches back.
The abrupt reaction left Hyūga Hiashi and others stunned and confused.
Did they mishear?
Uchiha Madara?
Why mention a name buried in the past?
Torifu stared at Rēn standing at the doorway. His vision blurred—images from memory overlapped with the figure before him. The blood-red layered armor, the black combat robes like those of a grim reaper, and the massive bandaged blade, Samehada, slung on his back...
“Whew...”
“Failing eyesight—must be my old age acting up again.”
Torifu exhaled deeply.
No matter how similar to the phantom of memory, it was clearly not the same person. On closer inspection, Rēn differed in many ways: shorter hair, Samehada instead of a fan, and softer, more handsome facial features.
He shook his head to clear the illusion.
“Lord Hokage, are you alright?”
Hiashi asked with some concern.
“Nothing serious. Just an old man’s moment.” Torifu didn’t explain further. Hiashi and the younger generation like Aburame Shibi had never met Uchiha Madara. They couldn’t grasp the fear and reverence Madara evoked among older shinobi.
As a child, Torifu had once followed clan elders into battle under Madara’s command. The godlike power left an unforgettable mark on him.
“Rēn, I didn’t expect you to be into such nostalgic things.”
Torifu extended a massive hand, using Partial Multi-Size Jutsu to lift the fallen chair with his enlarged right hand and reset the desk with his left. Everything was restored as if nothing had happened.
“It’s tradition.”
Rēn tapped the layered armor on his chest. The plates clanged together.
Though such armor offered solid protection, its heavy weight and the noise it made while moving had caused it to fall out of use in the past few decades. Modern shinobi favored lighter, quieter gear.
To that end, they had forsaken metal armor for stealth and mobility.
“The elders in the clan prepared this for me. It was hard to refuse their hopeful expressions,” Rēn explained.
There was another reason he didn’t mention: he simply liked this armor. Compared to the green flak vest, he preferred the traditional red layered armor. Plus, “The Knight Does Not Die Empty-Handed” granted it D-rank Noble Phantasm defense.
Stylish and functional—why not wear it?
As for whether the elders were reminiscing about Uchiha Madara, the ancient clan head?
That was irrelevant.
What mattered was that he was now the Uchiha clan head. One day, he would completely replace Madara’s legacy. Those buried in history should stay buried and not steal the spotlight from the living and the young.
It was time for the relics of the past to rest in the Pure Land.
“I see.”
Torifu nodded lightly at the explanation and said no more.
What Rēn wore was his personal choice. It wasn’t for others to judge. Though it stirred something within him, Torifu reminded himself: What is the Uchiha planning?
Then, with a wry smile, he shook it off.
He was only an acting Hokage. No need to overthink.
Once the war with the Mist ended, and Jiraiya and Tsunade were found, it would be time to pass on the role. Even for the sake of his clan, there was no need to create discord with the Uchiha.
“That’s enough idle chatter.”
Torifu gathered his focus, eyes sharp, and lifted the report. “This message arrived early this morning. Last night, Mist shinobi attacked a patrol unit on the eastern coast. The war… has already begun.”
War—
Had begun.
Hiashi and the others grew solemn. A wave of pressure filled the room.
Even with full confidence in victory, the tension of war did not diminish. On the battlefield, anything could happen. History was full of battles that seemed won yet ended in defeat.
War was a black box of uncertainty.
No one knew what outcome lay inside until it was opened.
