Chapter 32 - Reinforcements from the Uchiha Clan
Nightfall arrived swiftly, casting long shadows over the makeshift Konoha encampment.
The usual comfort that came with the cover of darkness was absent tonight. Instead, an uneasy stillness settled over the battlefield, amplifying the tension that had yet to fade from their hard-won victory.
Fires flickered weakly across the camp, illuminating the faces of weary shinobi. The scent of dried blood and burnt earth lingered in the air, mixing with the muffled groans of the wounded resting inside medical tents. Though they had managed to establish a defensive perimeter, their situation remained precarious.
Their biggest problem, however, was not their injuries—it was their dwindling supplies.
Much of what they had brought was either lost or destroyed in the previous battle, and what remained would only last for three more days at best. The supply convoy from Konoha was still a week away. If the reinforcements from the Uchiha clan did not arrive with ample provisions, hunger would become their next greatest enemy.
For now, there was nothing they could do but wait.
Two days passed in tense anticipation.
By the time the third day arrived, the camp was operating at bare minimum efficiency. Meals had already been reduced to half-rations, and many shinobi had resorted to eating only once a day to stretch their supplies further.
Then, at midday, the long-awaited reinforcements finally arrived.
From the distance, a column of shinobi could be seen approaching the encampment, their movements disciplined, their presence exuding an unmistakable aura of strength.
It was the Uchiha clan.
Sentries atop the outer defenses called out the arrival, prompting a ripple of movement through the Konoha camp. Orochimaru, who had been in the middle of reviewing battle formations, set down his brush and stepped out of his command tent.
"Clan Leader Syōma, I told you we'd meet again. I've been expecting you."
Orochimaru greeted the Uchiha leader with a sly smile.
Uchiha Syōma strode into the encampment with an air of authority, his crimson Sharingan eyes scanning the surroundings. The battlefield scars were evident—the ground was still uneven from the clash of Earth Release techniques, dried blood stained the dirt, and exhausted Konoha shinobi moved about with grim determination. The wounded rested in makeshift tents, their injuries hastily bandaged.
Syōma let out a low chuckle.
"Orochimaru, it seems Iwagakure didn't give you any time to prepare. Your camp is in quite a miserable state."
Orochimaru, unfazed by the remark, clasped his hands behind his back.
"We've already made them pay the price," he replied, his tone smooth and confident. "Iwagakure's frontline commander, Kitsuchi, has been wounded by my hand. Five of their Jonin were slain. They'll need time to recover before they dare strike again."
His words were casual, but there was no mistaking the underlying message. Strength dictated control, and Orochimaru was making it clear who held the upper hand. If Kiezan had any intentions of asserting dominance within this alliance, he would have to reconsider his approach.
For a brief moment, silence stretched between them.
Kiezan studied Orochimaru carefully. He had not expected the Sannin to have grown this powerful.
Kitsuchi was a well-known commander in Iwagakure, a hardened warrior who had defeated countless foes. Before this, Orochimaru's greatest recorded feat was fighting alongside Tsunade and Jiraiya against Hanzō of the Salamander—a battle in which Hanzō had ultimately spared their lives out of caution toward Konoha.
Now, Orochimaru had singlehandedly wounded one of Iwagakure's most formidable leaders.
His strength had evolved beyond mere reputation.
Kiezan gaze darkened slightly, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts.
Inside the command tent, Orochimaru wasted no time in getting to the point.
"How much in supplies did you bring?" he asked as he took the central seat, his sharp gaze locking onto Kiezan.
Kiezan raised an eyebrow but answered without hesitation.
"Twenty thousand shuriken, a week's worth of food for my clan, and two thousand rolls of bandages," he listed, his tone neutral.
However, he had already taken note of the state of the Konoha forces, and a suspicion had begun to form in his mind.
Orochimaru confirmed it with his next words.
"Clan Leader Kiezan, we're all in this together, so I won't waste time. Our food supply is nearly depleted. Even with your provisions, we can only last another two days. Konoha's supply line is still four days away."
The air inside the tent grew heavier.
Kiezan frowned slightly.
Orochimaru's next words were decisive.
"That leaves us with two choices: retreat now or raid Iwagakure's supply routes."
Silence followed his declaration.
After two previous Shinobi World Wars, this borderland had become a wasteland. No villages remained, no farmlands to harvest, no sources of food or shelter—only barren rock and desolation.
The idea of foraging was laughable. The few remaining animals in this dead land would never be enough to sustain over two thousand shinobi for even a single day.
And Iwagakure would not wait. Their forces could launch an attack at any moment.
Sending shinobi into battle with empty stomachs was a guaranteed path to defeat.
Kiezan crossed his arms, his sharp gaze flickering between Orochimaru and the map spread across the table.
"We should hear what the others think first," he said at last.
Though he had just arrived, he was already being asked to consider the possibility of retreat. As much as he disliked the idea, he couldn't ignore reality. Orochimaru was right—if they failed to act soon, they wouldn't even have the strength left to withdraw.
"Fine," Orochimaru said smoothly.
Without further delay, he stepped outside and issued orders for an emergency war council. The guards immediately moved to summon all available Jonin, as well as one other individual—Kazane.
Before long, the command tent swelled with the presence of Konoha's highest-ranking warriors.
Ten of Konoha's Jonin stood at attention, their expressions grim with the weight of battle. Across from them, over a hundred Uchiha Jonin had gathered, their crimson Sharingan eyes glinting ominously in the dim lighting.
At the head of the table, Orochimaru took his seat, exuding an air of effortless command. To his right sat Kazane, relaxed yet watchful. On his left, Kiezan surveyed the room with a calculating gaze.
The tent was thick with tension.
Kiezan's eyes roamed the gathered shinobi before landing on the young figure beside Orochimaru.
A boy.
Dressed in Konoha's standard attire, with silver-white hair and a cold, unreadable gaze, he didn't seem out of place—until Kiezan realized where he was sitting.
Not with the other shinobi.
At the table.
As an equal.
Kiezan's expression darkened.
"Who is this?" he asked, his voice edged with suspicion.
He had come to support Orochimaru in this campaign, only to find himself placed on the same level as a mere child.
Was this some kind of insult?
Orochimaru remained unfazed.
"This is my disciple, Hatake Kazane," he answered smoothly.
The name was familiar.
Kiezan narrowed his eyes, his lips curling slightly.
"Hatake Kazane…" he repeated. "I've heard of you. You defeated Makoto at the Academy. But this is a Jonin war council." His tone hardened. "He's just a Genin—what right does he have to sit here?"
The irritation in his voice was evident.
As a clan leader, as a battle-hardened Jonin, Syōma had spent years carving his place among the strongest of Konoha. And yet, now, he was expected to sit as an equal to a boy who had barely left childhood?
Unacceptable.
The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension coiling like a tightened wire.
The Uchiha Jonin behind Syōma stiffened, their eyes flickering with curiosity and growing disdain.
Orochimaru, however, showed no sign of answering.
Instead, he watched in amusement as Kazane leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table.
Then, with an easy, almost lazy smile, the boy said,
"Because of my strength. The shinobi world is ruled by the strong, isn't it?"
His words sent a ripple through the room.
Orochimaru remained silent, watching with a subtle smile.
He had anticipated Syōma's resistance.
This was the first step in showing the Uchiha clan where true power lay. Only by proving their strength could Orochimaru and Kazane gain the full cooperation—and perhaps even submission—of the Uchiha warriors.