After the capture of Kasebi Ridge, Amamiya Raizen wasted no time. Orders flew out the same hour the sun rose.
"Fortify everything," he'd said. "If a bird so much as sneezes over that ridge, I want it dead before it hits the ground."
Three hundred Amamiya ninjas moved like a hive of wasps, laying traps, carving lookout trenches, embedding chakra seals into the soil. Raizen personally reinforced the aerial defenses — he'd learned from his own trick. If he could attack from the sky, so could someone else.
By noon, Kasebi Ridge was no longer a mountain. It was a fortress — a jagged crown of stone wrapped in steel wire and chakra smoke. A week ago, it had belonged to the Kaguya. Now, it belonged to the forgotten clan that refused to die.
The news spread like wildfire.
In the Coalition Camp, Amamiya banners fluttered proudly as cheers erupted. No one expected Raizen to take the ridge in three days, not after the stalemate that had crushed greater clans before him. Even the Senju scouts admitted, half-grudgingly, that the "no-name Amamiya kid" had pulled off a miracle.
But across the battlefield, at the Kaguya stronghold, silence reigned.
Inside the dim hall, Kaguya Takemoto, the clan head, sat beneath a row of blackened war banners. His face was unreadable, but his aura was heavy enough to choke the air. Before him knelt a dozen survivors — the broken remnants of the ridge's garrison.
"Speak," Takemoto said at last, voice low but cutting. "Explain how a force sitting on the highest, most defensible point in the region managed to lose it in three days."
One of the survivors trembled. "M-My lord… they— they came from the sky."
Takemoto's brows twitched. "The sky?"
"Yes, sir. The Amamiya used clay dragons filled with chakra. They struck at night… there was no warning. We thought the attacks were feints, so when the real strike came—"
"Air strike…" Takemoto's composure cracked. "They used air strikes?"
He rose sharply, chair scraping against stone. The rage behind his eyes was volcanic, but he forced it down. No amount of killing his own men would bring the ridge back. Even these survivors had simply been unlucky, not cowardly.
"Get out," he said coldly. "All of you."
The terrified ninjas bowed and scrambled from the hall. When the doors slammed shut, Takemoto exhaled, the weight of the clan pressing on his shoulders.
"Amamiya Raizen," he muttered, tasting the name like poison. "That bastard…"
One of the clan elders cleared his throat. "Lord Takemoto, if we allow the Amamiya to hold Kasebi Ridge, they'll strike straight at our station. We need to send reinforcements immediately."
Another joined in, "Agreed. Even a small force could slow them—"
"Three hundred," Takemoto interrupted. "Send three hundred men. No more."
The elders exchanged uneasy looks.
They had already lost two hundred at Kasebi Ridge. The Kaguya clan's numbers had fallen to barely a thousand — almost equal to the Amamiya coalition. The thought alone made Takemoto's head pound.
If they stripped more troops from the Changbai Forest Line, they risked being outflanked. If they didn't… the Amamiya would use the ridge like a knife aimed at their heart.
It wasn't a choice. It was a slow bleed.
"Do it," he said finally. "Even if it costs us the forest."
By the next dawn, black-armored Kaguya warriors were already marching toward the ridge, while their homeland emptied behind them.
And like a rumor carried on the wind, the news of their loss spread across the Land of Fire — carried by traders, mercenaries, and opportunists who thrived on the fall of others.
To the great clans far away, it was gossip.
To the small ones living near the Kaguya border, it was a spark in dry grass.
In a quiet valley along the Upstream River, three clans gathered in secret — the Katori, Yamada, and Shiraishi families. Small, water-style clans that had spent years under Kaguya shadow. Tonight, they smelled blood.
Inside a dim room, Katori Mai, the head of the Katori Clan, sat cross-legged before the other two patriarchs. His eyes glimmered with satisfaction.
"Patriarch Katori," said Yamada Takashi, cautious but curious. "You summoned us suddenly. What is this about?"
Katori chuckled. "Don't play dumb, Yamada-san. You already know."
Shiraishi Tomonobu, the eldest of the three, frowned. "This is about the Kaguya, isn't it?"
"Exactly," Katori replied. "For years, they've crushed our borders, demanded tribute, killed our scouts. But now? Their army's bleeding. The Amamiya have broken their ridge. Their main force is cornered. I say we strike through the river and pay them back."
Yamada's eyes widened. "You're suggesting… open war?"
"Why not?" Katori shrugged. "They can't fight us and the Amamiya at once. We hit fast, raid their supply routes, burn their fields. By the time they notice, their hands will already be full."
The room went quiet. The sound of the river outside filled the silence.
Finally, Shiraishi sighed. "You're insane… but not wrong."
Katori smiled. "Then it's decided."
And so, in the shadow of a greater war, three small clans prepared to bite the hand that once crushed them.
The Warring States had just grown louder.
...
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