"Are you ready, shinobi of the Uchiha clan?"
The Uchiha clan’s assembly ground wasn’t vast, but it could still accommodate several hundred people. Today marked the departure of their forces to the front lines, and Uchiha Fugaku was presiding over the final mobilization meeting.
Each squad captain stood at the front of their units, flanked by their respective team members. From a glance, Saitama appeared to be the shortest among the captains. It made sense—most jōnin-level Uchiha had long since reached adulthood, their heights stabilized at around 170 cm or more.
When Fugaku finished his speech, silence settled over the crowd. It wasn’t due to disrespect but out of tradition. Shinobi were not ones for loud applause.
Standing at the front, Saitama could clearly sense the shift in atmosphere. The tension in the air was suffocating, pressing against his chest.
Fugaku’s gaze swept across the ranks. His expression was grave, but a faint twitch of his lips betrayed a hint of approval.
"It seems you’re ready." His voice echoed with intensity. "The Uchiha haven’t mobilized on this scale in decades. Let the enemy remember our name—let us revive the glory of our ancestors!"
The words struck deep into the hearts of the assembled shinobi. Eyes sharpened, jaws clenched. Saitama half-squinted, watching Fugaku on the raised platform.
"Then let’s move out, Uchiha shinobi!" Fugaku nodded and raised his hand in a commanding gesture.
This time, he wouldn’t be leading the troops personally. Command of the Uchiha forces was entrusted to Uchiha Amami—a calm and experienced shinobi in his forties who had earned Fugaku’s trust over many years.
Though Amami’s seniority made him well-respected, he ceded field command to Uchiha Tenaki, a sharp and tactical Uchiha chūnin with growing prominence in battlefield operations.
"All squads, assemble at Konoha’s front gate!" Tenaki barked the first order with a commanding tone.
"Hai!" the captains responded in unison.
"Let’s move." Saitama turned to the two young men behind him—Uchiha Huo and Uchiha Yan—his tone more assertive than usual.
"Hai!" they echoed, excitement flashing in their eyes.
One by one, the squads took to the rooftops. Their shadows leapt in tight formations, converging toward Konoha’s main gate.
Saitama led the way, with Huo and Yan at his heels. The three kept pace easily, weaving between rooftops in step with other Uchiha squads.
Along the way, Saitama noticed another formation moving with precision—a wave of pale-clad shinobi heading toward the same gate. The Hyūga clan.
Relations between the Uchiha and Hyūga clans were... competitive at best. Neither side made overt moves to communicate when they arrived near the gate, standing apart in silence.
It was a sea of shinobi. Konoha, as the strongest Hidden Village, had the capacity to confront multiple nations at once—and it showed.
Still, the conflict with Kirigakure hadn’t escalated to full-blown war. This deployment was strategic, more a deterrent than a full commitment—an effort to show strength and discourage Kiri from launching a larger assault.
Most of the shinobi deployed were from the village’s founding clans. Civilian ninja made up only a small portion of the forces. This was part of a balancing strategy by Konoha’s leadership: to remind the clans that the village came first, even before personal or clan interests.
The major clan leaders understood this. Any clan that defied such understanding would quickly find itself isolated—and it wouldn’t be the Hokage who made the first move, but the other clans.
The sun blazed overhead as more and more shinobi gathered. Saitama recognized various insignia—smaller clans, auxiliary forces, independent jōnin.
Before long, the entire force had assembled, waiting quietly for the go-ahead.
Boom! A signal flare exploded in the sky. That was the sign: the march to the border had begun.
Each clan moved in formation, starting their advance.
Saitama had heard from Fugaku that Tsunade-sama would serve as the overall commander of the deployment, supported by a senior Konoha adviser to help mediate clan interactions.
Tsunade had not yet left the village—her hemophobia made her ill-suited for frontline command—but the preparations suggested she’d join the rear command soon. When war broke out in earnest, someone would need to lead from the front.
Saitama suspected that would be Jiraiya. Of the Legendary Sannin, he was the most versatile—strong in ninjutsu, genjutsu, and taijutsu alike. He often moved independently, plugging gaps wherever Konoha needed him most.
Minato Namikaze was rumored to be active on the western front, Orochimaru in the south. Jiraiya, the last of the trio, operated like a wildcard—precise, swift, and devastating when deployed.
Word was the first unit had already reached the border. Saitama’s contingent was part of the second wave.
Their force moved quickly, leaping through forests and open terrain en route to the border with the Land of Water. At their pace, it would take roughly a week, assuming they rationed their energy and remained combat-ready.
The composition of the force—drawn mostly from elite clans—meant tensions were inevitable. Not every clan got along.
The Uchiha and Hyūga, for example, had long-standing rivalry.
"You’re the Uchiha kid everyone’s been talking about lately, right?"
Saitama was resting against a tree during a brief halt. Huo and Yan stood nearby like loyal sentinels.
Opening his eyes, Saitama saw four Hyūga shinobi standing before him. Their leader’s Byakugan pulsed faintly beneath pale eyes.
Huo and Yan tensed instantly.
"Something you want?" Saitama asked, eyeing the approaching Uchiha who had noticed the interaction.
The Hyūga stepped forward, calm but arrogant.
"I hear you’re some kind of genius. Let’s see if the rumors are true."
"You’ll have to wait." Saitama stood and casually rested his hand on the hilt of his short blade.
"Oh?" The Hyūga smirked. Despite being only nineteen, he had been a jōnin for two years. He didn’t see himself as inferior.
Suddenly—
Whoosh!
Saitama vanished. A shallow depression marked the ground where he’d stood.
"As Konoha shinobi, let’s not waste energy on nonsense, hmm?" Saitama’s voice whispered behind the Hyūga, barely audible.
The Hyūga stiffened. He hadn’t seen the movement—Saitama had flickered behind him in an instant.
"Hmph." The Hyūga turned, narrowing his eyes at the calm gaze that met him.
He stepped back, wordless. His teammates followed, tension thick in the air.
The gathered Uchiha exchanged glances. Their recent rising star had just dismissed a provocation with effortless grace. Though none had activated their Sharingan, few had even seen him move.
"Let’s move." Saitama’s words signaled the end of the break. Like a stone in water, the confrontation made only brief ripples before vanishing into stillness.
After five and a half days of travel, they arrived at the designated forward camp. The beginnings of Konoha’s military base had already taken shape.
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