I, Uchiha, will not be whitewashed!

Besides the attributes of cutting, penetrating, and sharpness, Wind Release also has something more hidden and deadly—invisibility.

The wind is invisible.

You can only perceive it through other things—the leaves are swaying, the grass is bending, and the water is rippling.

The wind itself is invisible.

"Common sense is often something that people easily overlook."

"If it were used in battle—"

"It can definitely achieve a surprise effect."

He stood in the open space, his knife held horizontally in front of him, the wind blowing from the east, making his hair flutter backward.

He closed his eyes and felt the wind flowing over his skin.

It's very light and soft, but you can't stop it.

You can build a wall to block stones, dig a ditch to block water, but you can't stop the wind.

It will squeeze through gaps, go around overhead, and come from places you can't imagine. By the time you feel it, it's already on your face.

He opened his eyes and looked at the knife in his hand.

When wind-style techniques are applied to a blade, it becomes sharper and can cut through harder objects.

This is the most basic usage.

By "throwing out" the Wind Release technique, wind blades can be formed, enabling long-range attacks.

This is an advanced usage.

But both of these have one problem—they are visible.

When the wind blades fly out, the air is compressed, forming a visible "white" arc. If the enemy sees it, they can dodge, block, or defend against it.

What he needs is the invisible wind.

Shuoge stuck the knife into the ground, sat down cross-legged, and began to think.

Why can we see the wind?

-

Uchiha Sakugo stood on the open ground, his left hand forming a hand seal, and released a wind blade.

A white arc shot out from his palm, slicing through a tree branch three meters away before disappearing into thin air. He released another one. The same white arc, the same trajectory, the same—visible.

He stared at the direction where the white arc disappeared, and stood there for a long time.

Why is the wind blade white?

Chakra itself has no color.

Fire Release techniques are red because the flames themselves are red.

Water escape is transparent; it simply refracts light.

Wind Release—Wind Release techniques should be invisible. But his wind blades are visible. He thought for a moment, then released another one. This time, he didn't rush to observe the trajectory of the wind blade, but instead focused on the wind blade itself.

White, curved, with a faint, heat-wave-like twist at the edges.

That's what air looks like after it's been compressed.

The essence of a wind blade is compressed air that flies at high speed and cuts through everything.

Compressed air is denser than the surrounding air, and this denser air refracts light, just as a heat wave can distort distant objects.

Therefore, the wind blades are visible.

It's not the color of chakra; it's the air that's been compressed so that light can't pass through.

Shuoge's eyes lit up.

He squatted down and drew a line on the ground with his finger.

Wind blades are compressed air, which is why they're visible. But what if the air wasn't compressed to that extent? They'd be even thinner and more wiry.

There is another way—

If you simply let the air flow, without compressing, shaping, or releasing it—

Will we still be able to see it?

He stood up, formed a hand seal with his left hand, and wind-attribute chakra flowed from his palm.

This time he didn't compress, he simply released.

Chakra, carrying the flow of air, formed a faint current in his palm, stirring up the dust on the ground.

The dust is visible, but the airflow itself is invisible.

He increased his chakra, and the airflow became stronger, turning from a gentle breeze into a strong wind, blowing his hair back and making the fallen leaves on the ground fly up.

But the airflow itself is still invisible.

You can feel it, see what it's blowing, but you can't see it.

Shuoge lowered his hand.

He stood there, looking at his palms for a long time.

Then he picked up the sword and poured wind-style chakra into its blade.

It's not compression, it's flow.

Let the wind flow over the blade, like water flow in a river, like blood flow in a vein.

It doesn't release or emit; it simply flows.

He swung his knife—where the blade passed, the air was cut open and then closed again.

There was no white light, no arc, nothing at all. But three meters away, the tree trunk had a new cut. It was thin and straight, as if it had been cut by an invisible knife.

He walked over and touched the cut.

The cut is clean and smooth, just like the one made by the wind blade.

But the wind blade is visible, while this one is not.

Because he doesn't have compressed air.

He simply let the wind follow the knife.

Wherever the knife goes, the wind cuts there.

Wind is fluid, not compressed, so it doesn't refract light. You can't see it, you can only feel it—and by the time you feel it, it's too late.

Shuoge stood in front of the tree and suddenly smiled.

It was very light and short, like the wind brushing across the water, creating a ripple that then subsided.

He recalled Jing's words: "What is speed for? It's for placing the knife in the right position at the right time."

Now he can answer.

Speed ​​is used to prevent the enemy from reacting.

The reason why it is invisible and imperceptible is to prevent the enemy from knowing how to react.

He turned around and walked back to the center of the open space.

He raised the knife again, the wind flowing silently over the blade.

He swung his knife, not to chop, not to slice, but to stab.

The tip of the knife pointed at a tree ten meters away. The wind whistled from the tip like an invisible needle.

A hole appeared in the tree trunk, very thin and deep, piercing through the bark and flesh, emerging from the other side. Sunlight streamed through the hole, a thin beam, like a needle.

Shuoge sheathed his sword.

He looked at the hole, then at the knife in his hand.

The wind can be sliced ​​into pieces, or it can be pierced into needles.

It can be wide, it can be narrow, it can sweep horizontally, it can thrust straight.

It can take any shape as long as the direction and density of the wind are controlled.

The enemy can't see it. They can only see the result—a gash or a hole in its body. Then it falls. They don't know why, they don't know what killed it.

He began practicing control.

It's not about training power, it's about training precision and control.

Let the wind follow the knife; wherever the knife points, the wind goes.

Unless he encounters a ninja with abnormal defensive abilities like the Third Raikage, his blade can easily pierce the heart and sever the neck.

The attack power is sufficient.

He wanted to practice the sword in his hand and the wind techniques on its blade until he could use them as easily as his own limbs.

If the knife tip points left, the wind blows to the left. If the knife tip points right, the wind blows to the right.

Draw a circle with the tip of a knife, and the wind will cut a circle on the tree trunk.

He practiced on the same tree for an hour. The trunk was covered with knife marks—horizontal, vertical, diagonal, and round. Each mark was precise to the millimeter. Then he moved to a different tree and continued practicing.

……

……

……

Meanwhile, in Konoha Village.

The lights in the Hokage's office stayed on all night.

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the third generation, sat behind his desk with a thick stack of battle reports spread out in front of him.

The pipe sat on the edge of the table, extinguished, the ash cold; he didn't light it again. His eyes were fixed on the top piece of intelligence, his fingers pressing against the paper, his knuckles turning white.

The messages coming from the front lines were increasingly important.

The first one—Minato Namikaze single-handedly defeated the elite Iwagakure forces in the Rain Country Canyon.

They killed thousands of enemies, beheaded dozens of Jonin, and countless Chunin and Genin.

The Iwagakure troops were routed, and Commander Ōiwa escaped alone.

The second order – issued by the Third Tsuchikage, Onoki: If Minato Namikaze, the Yellow Flash of Konoha, appears, you may immediately abandon the mission without any punishment.

This was an order that had never been given in the history of Iwagakure.

The proud and stubborn Third Tsuchikage lowered his head.

The third report states that Iwagakure has withdrawn from all fronts, border troops have shifted to a defensive posture, and the frequency of proactive attacks has decreased significantly.

The fourth document – ​​a summary of intelligence from other battlefields.

The Hidden Cloud Village and the Hidden Stone Village are still locked in a stalemate in the northwest, with both sides suffering heavy losses and unable to open new fronts in the short term.

Kirigakure remained inactive on the eastern front, making several probing attempts, only to be repelled and then retreating. Sunagakure was restless in the southwest, but lacked sufficient forces and could only harass.

Hiruzen put down the last piece of intelligence and leaned back in his chair.

He closed his eyes, his mind racing through the map.

The Land of Fire is besieged on all sides, while Konoha is fighting on three fronts.

The most dangerous enemy is never the strongest one in a direct confrontation, but the one that persists the longest. The threat from Iwagakure has been temporarily suppressed, but Kirigakure is grinding away, and Sunagakure is biting down on them.

It's not fatal, but it hurts. If the pain lasts too long, the wound will fester and the person won't be able to endure it.

He opened his eyes, picked up his pipe, lit it, and took a puff.

The smoke dissipated under the light, blurring his expression.

He thought of Minato Namikaze—that young man with blond hair and blue eyes, always smiling, as if he never knew what fear was.

He recalled the words Minato had sent back from the front lines: "Konoha will not launch an attack, but it will not back down either."

Hiruzen saw it at the time but didn't say anything.

Now he knows that Minato was right.

Konoha lacked the strength to launch an attack, but it couldn't retreat either. If it retreated, those vicious dogs would chase after it and bite it relentlessly. It could only stand there and wait for them to release their grip on its own.

"Minato..." Hiruzen murmured, not finishing his sentence.

—He is an excellent child.

There was a knock on the door. Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado walked in, both looking tired, but their eyes were bright. They sat down opposite Hiruzen, each with a battle report in front of them.

"Those people in Iwagakure are behaving themselves." Koharu's voice was calm, but you could hear the relaxation in it. "That old man, Onoki, is really scared this time."

"It's not fear," Menyan corrected her. "It's calculation. He's calculated that if the fighting continues, Iwagakure's losses will be greater than Konoha's. He's not afraid of Minato, he's afraid of losing money."

Hiruzen did not participate in their argument.

He put down his pipe, pulled a map from the table, and spread it out.

The map is marked with three battle lines in red: the northern line is Iwagakure, the eastern line is Kirigakure, and the southwestern line is Sunagakure.

He pointed to the northern line with his finger.

"Iwagakure won't be making any major moves for the time being. Minato alone can hold off one line. But the northern front is just 'peaceful,' not 'stopped.' Patrols, reconnaissance, and small-scale skirmishes will continue. We can't redeploy all our forces from the northern front."

His finger moved to the eastern front.

"Misty Shadow. So far, we've suffered the least losses and exerted the least effort. They're waiting, waiting for us to give up, waiting for someone else to break through first. We can't give them that chance. Keep the troops on the eastern front in place, maintain pressure. Let them think we still have reserves, and they won't dare to act rashly."

Finally, his finger landed on the southwest line.

"Sunagakure. The Third Kazekage is missing, and the village is internally unstable, but it must appear tough to the outside world. So they won't stop, and they dare not stop. But they no longer have the capacity to launch a large-scale offensive. What we need to do is suppress Sunagakure. Not just defeat them, suppress them. Suppress them until they can't recover, suppress them until they beg for peace themselves."

Xiaochun and Menyan exchanged a glance. Menyan spoke up: "Some of the troops on the northern front can be diverted to support the southwest. Shuimen can hold off the enemy by himself, but he needs to be paired with some skilled men."

Hiruzen nodded. "Let Jiraiya go to the northern front. Master and apprentice working together will improve their teamwork."

Koharu frowned. "Jiraiya's in the Land of Rain—"

"Bring it back." Hiruzen's tone left no room for argument. "The battle lines in the Land of Rain can be contracted. Right now, the most important thing isn't seizing territory, it's survival. Only by pulling back our fists can we strike harder."

Koharu didn't speak again. She looked at Hiruzen, at his face, weathered and angular by time and war. This old man understood the meaning of "choice" better than anyone she knew.

Let go when you should let go, take back when you should take back, and be ruthless when you need to be ruthless.

Hiruzen stood up and walked to the large map hanging on the wall.

The map of the Land of Fire unfolded before him, with Konoha Village merely a small marker on it. But this small marker carried the weight of the entire nation.

He raised his hand and drew a line on the southwestern front.

"Next, hold off Kirigakure and contain Sunagakure. The northern front is to be handled by Minato and Jiraiya. Redeploy troops across all fronts and come up with a plan within three days."

He turned around and looked at Xiaochun and Menyan. "Is there anything else?"

"As for the Uchiha clan—" Koharu hesitated for a moment, "After Kagami died, there were some conflicting voices within the clan. Fugaku is trying to suppress it, but he can't keep it under control for long."

Hiruzen was silent for a moment. "We'll talk about the Uchiha after the battle. The most important thing now is to win this war. If we win, everything else is negotiable. If we lose, nothing we say will matter."

Koharu and Menyan stood up and left. The door closed, leaving Hiruzen alone in the office once again.

He sat back down in his chair, picked up his pipe, and took another puff.

The smoke dispersed under the light, blurring the map on the wall.

His gaze fell on the northern front—the land of rain, the canyon, the place where he rose to fame in the Battle of Watergate.

His gaze then shifted to the southwest front—the border of the Land of Wind, the stronghold of Sunagakure.

That's the next focus.

Press down the Sand Village until they beg for peace.

Then you can catch your breath.

He thought of the children who were sent to the battlefield.

The kids at the ninja academy, who couldn't even throw kunai and shuriken accurately, were pushed to the front lines to kill and be killed.

Shuoge, seven years old, has three-tomoe Sharingan.

Kakashi, seven years old, Raikiri. And those nameless children who died on the battlefield, whose reports were only a single line long. He closed his eyes and put down his pipe.

"It's almost over," he told himself. His voice was very soft, so soft it was as if he were lying to himself.

Outside the window, it was almost dawn.

The eastern horizon was tinged with a pale, fish-belly white, like a wound slowly healing. The light in the Hokage's office was still on, illuminating the map on the wall and a solitary mountain.

Three characters are carved on the mountain: Konoha Village.