Even in the major hidden villages, attaining the rank of Chūnin already marks a shinobi as part of the backbone of the village's fighting force. Those promoted to Jōnin are considered part of the high command key personnel whose missions shape the destiny of their nation. In the Hidden Rain Village, this truth had been internalized long ago. And yet, even after multiple encounters, Hanzō of the Salamander grew increasingly restless.
It had been close to a month since war broke out along the border of the Land of Rain and the Land of Wind. What started as tactical probing and low-scale skirmishes had escalated into large-scale military engagements. Rain Shinobi, with the near-mythical Hanzō personally overseeing the frontlines, had managed to seize most of the Zephyr Plain, a fertile stretch of land that neither mirrored the scorching, sand-swept deserts of the Land of Wind nor the constant deluge of the Land of Rain. The plain, temperate and agriculturally rich, had long been a contested buffer zone one Rain Shinobi had long desired but never dared claim.
Now, for the first time in the history of major shinobi conflicts, a smaller nation had successfully entrenched itself on the territory of a great nation. Yet despite this advantage, Rain Shinobi's battlefield progress remained sluggish especially considering they were confronting less than a third of Sunagakure's main force.
Since the death of the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa, at the hands of Orochimaru during the events of the Konoha Crush, Sunagakure had suffered from internal instability. At that time, Baki one of the village's most capable Elite Jōnin temporarily filled the power vacuum. But that was a future concern. In the present, Sunagakure's field command was led by none other than the Iron Sand-wielding Third Kazekage, now revived by Mizuki Ryosuke's manipulation of the Edo Tensei.
"Frogs remain frogs because they never leave the well," Hanzō muttered, his voice laced with bitter conviction. "The sky above them is not the limit, merely their illusion of it."
Behind him, masked Rain-nin bowed in affirmation. "Yes, Hanzō-sama!"
Watching the silent departure of Momochi Zabuza, Third Kazekage's sharp iron gaze seemed to flicker with revelation. "Issue my command," he said coldly. "All forces regroup and prepare for full engagement."
In the shadow of his cloak, Sanjō Fish Manda Hanzō's own herald nodded and darted off to relay orders. The Rain Shinobi camp, long cautious and defensive, now stirred with rising morale. The Zephyr Plain, once a strategic dream, was now a front-line necessity.
Though historically under the dominion of the Land of Wind due to its location and regional strength, this vital plain became the stage of a drawn-out war because of its climate: not as dry as Wind Country, nor as wet as Rain Country. This ecological balance produced rare abundance in a world wracked by resource shortages, making it a critical agricultural asset and Rain Shinobi's top priority.
For Sand Shinobi, however, the reality was complex. Despite the weakened showing, they remained infamous for their resilience, shaped by the harsh, unforgiving desert. Even now, they were spread thin, guarding against potential incursions from the Land of Fire and the Land of Earth each waiting to exploit the internal disorder of their rival.
If Hanzō could crush this Sand Shinobi vanguard, he intended to force peace negotiations on his terms using strength as leverage.
Rain Shinobi's covert alliance with Mizuki Ryosuke before the war had given them more than just military supplies. The strategic deployment of Mist Shinobi resources through Zabuza's covert operation, combined with Ryosuke's letters, had tilted the scales in Hanzō's favor. Without this, the logistical burden of war would've long crippled the Rain side.
Hanzō knew the opposing commander was not the Kazekage. The Sand forces were likely under orders to conserve strength, knowing a premature full engagement might invite further attack from other villages. Still, the leader's battlefield restraint and psychological warfare betrayed a veteran's mind one worthy of caution.
The Sand Iron Kazekage, for his part, observed Rain Shinobi's movements with calculated indifference. Though revived and freed from Kabuto's control by Ryosuke's jutsu expertise, his intentions remained ambiguous. Zabuza had just departed to deliver the Kazekage's cryptic reply to the Fourth Mizukage, Ryosuke himself. Sand Iron did not understand all of Mizuki Ryosuke's plans, but even he could sense the tide was changing. The Rain forces, bolstered by the elusive Mist, were no longer a rabble they were a storm on the horizon.
Sand Iron's sharp gaze tracked the clouds above. "A decisive battle is coming."
He wasn't wrong.
Rain Shinobi's edge came from tactics and terrain. Known for assassination, espionage, and guerrilla maneuvers, they had no illusions about winning open-field battles. That made Hanzō's careful delay even more dangerous every moment he waited, he stacked another piece in his invisible trap.
Mizuki Ryosuke's cryptic words echoed in Hanzō's mind. "Even frogs can leap from the well, if they dream of the sky."
Clenching his fists, Hanzō understood the intent. He did not wish to conquer Sunagakure, nor did he desire more land than he could defend. He wanted leverage. Stability. Recognition. And above all, he wanted the legacy of Rain Shinobi to rise above the well it had been trapped in for decades.
The Elite Jōnin were the truest measure of a village's military ceiling ninjas like Copy Ninja Kakashi or the Blue Beast Might Guy were not Kage, but their names resounded across nations. In Rain Shinobi, warriors of that caliber were rare but not absent. And one such example, the revived Mio Mio, now served as Hanzō's liaison to the troops, his identity hidden behind a Rain mask.
The idea was never just about military supremacy. It was about changing the paradigm. Rain Shinobi would show the world that even those cast aside by geography and politics could rise. It would be the first step to a new shinobi order one built by Ryosuke's quiet manipulations and Hanzō's fire-forged will.
"Next, I'll show you all the wrath of the Sanjō Fish!" Hanzō roared, stepping out into the field. The sky was cloudless for once unusual in the Land of Rain, and symbolic.
Across the battlefield, Sand Iron received his final reports. The enemy was mobilizing. The calm before the storm had ended. And yet, the Kazekage did not frown.
The battlefield had become more than a plain it was now a crucible for ideology. Who had the right to dream? Who would own the sky beyond the well?
JOIN MY PATREON TO READ ADVANCE 100+ CHAPTERS
Patreon.com/Kora_1