Raizen stood in the shadows, staring at the massive clay dragons lined up before him. Fifty in total — each one molded from the last of his reserves, each one humming faintly with explosive chakra. He exhaled through his nose, half in exhaustion, half in satisfaction.
"With these… we'll pierce through their defenses and fly straight into the Kaguya's heart."
This entire plan — the sleepless nights, the mock assaults, the feigned retreats — had been one long psychological chokehold. Two days of meaningless harassment had trained the Kaguya clan like dogs: jump at shadows, stare at the front lines, forget to look up.
Good. That was exactly what he needed.
When he'd been alive in his old world, the strategy would've been called "conditioning." Here, it was just another kind of jutsu — the art of breaking human instinct.
Raizen's lips curved into a dry smirk. "Set off."
At his command, the Amamiya ninja leapt one by one onto the clay dragons. Chakra flared in sequence as the beasts unfurled their wide wings and took off into the black sky, their bellies glowing faintly like embers in motion.
Moments later, the army was gone — swallowed by the night.
Raizen crouched atop his own dragon, cold wind cutting into his face. The world below was silent and small — a graveyard of forests and fog. His thoughts flickered with amusement.
"No wonder Deidara was such a nightmare for the Third Tsuchikage. Air superiority changes the damn rules."
He almost laughed to himself.
In the Naruto world, there were barely a handful of shinobi who could fly — and they'd all caused nightmares for entire villages.
Maybe someday, he thought, the Amamiya clan could command the skies themselves.
Flying platoons. A clan that rains death from above.
A stupid fantasy for now… but still. Nice dream.
For now, there was only the mission.
Kasebi Ridge loomed ahead — jagged, black, and lit with flickering campfires. Below, tents dotted the slope like fragile shells, Kaguya soldiers trudging through the mud, exhausted but vigilant. They'd been waiting for another ground attack.
They never looked up.
The Amamiya dragons swept silently overhead, their shadows crossing the ridge like passing clouds. Then, at Raizen's signal, they dived.
"Drop!"
The air screamed.
Wind pressure crashed like thunder, and the first alarmed shouts rose from below.
"Enemy attack!"
Too late.
Hundreds of Amamiya ninjas jumped mid-flight, chakra flaring under their feet as they sprinted along the slopes. The dragons beneath them didn't slow. Their chakra seals pulsed red.
"Boom!"
The night exploded.
Dozens of clay dragons detonated at once, swallowing the Kaguya camp in a chain of white-hot bursts. The ground cracked. The shockwave rolled like a living beast, shredding tents, snapping bones, ripping screams from a hundred throats.
By the time the dust cleared, over a third of the Kaguya forces were gone — vaporized, burned, or buried under debris.
"Now!" Raizen's voice cut through the chaos.
"Finish them!"
The surviving Amamiya ninjas crashed into the shattered camp with animal fury. Two days of frustration and humiliation burst into unrestrained slaughter. Steel flashed, blood splattered, and the Kaguya lines collapsed under the momentum.
"Fight back! Fight back, damn you!"
The Kaguya commander's voice cracked through the carnage, but it was already too late.
Raizen's grin was all teeth. "Take Kasebi Ridge! Leave none standing!"
He vanished with a flicker — Flying Thunder God flashing through the battlefield like a ghost. His Rasengan howled in his palm, grinding through armor and flesh alike. Kaguya warriors screamed and dropped as the blue sphere tore through their ranks.
The commander spotted him, face twisted in rage. "You—!"
"Shut up."
Raizen's tone was ice.
He weaved hand signs in a blur, chakra coiling violently.
A pulse of white light burst from his palm — a cutting wave that sliced across the commander's right arm, disintegrating it into dust.
The man screamed and staggered back, trying to regain footing.
Raizen didn't give him the chance.
He flickered again, kunai whistling through the air — marked for teleportation.
The next instant, he was behind the commander, Rasengan gone, blade in hand.
Steel pierced throat.
The commander's eyes widened. He tried to speak but only managed a choking gasp. Blood spilled down his chest. Raizen's voice was flat when he spoke.
"You guarded the ridge well. Pity it wasn't enough."
The body fell. And with it, the Kaguya line broke.
The battle ended before dawn.
Out of three hundred Kaguya warriors, only fifty escaped into the forest — hunted shadows beneath a rising sun. The rest lay buried under what used to be their fortress.
The Amamiya forces stood among the wreckage, ash in their hair, exhaustion burning in their bones… but their banners still flew.
Kasebi Ridge — once thought untouchable — now belonged to the Amamiya clan.
Raizen stared at the sunrise through the drifting smoke. His face was unreadable, but deep inside, the fire of victory stirred something dangerous and alive.
"Step one," he muttered. "The age of small clans ends here."