Morning mist blanketed the forest, pale and heavy like smoke.
After nearly two weeks of travel, Hyuga Satoru's group had finally reached the edge of the Land of Fire. For the first few days after leaving Konoha, they had moved swiftly—almost recklessly—but once they established contact with the Hyuga scouts stationed near the front lines, their pace deliberately slowed.
Although Hyuga Hiashi had been forced to return to Konoha due to injuries, many Hyuga shinobi still remained on the battlefield, serving as scouts and reconnaissance operatives. According to their reports, Konoha's forces had completely lost track of Ao's movements. To avoid alerting the enemy, Satoru decided to reduce their movement speed and focus on concealment. Their priority now was not speed, but invisibility.
By today, they had already reached the inland region that bordered the former Land of Whirlpools. The closer they drew to the sea, the more the environment shifted. The air grew damp and heavy with salt; the ground was slick beneath their sandals; the tree trunks were wet and gleaming. Even the faintest movement risked leaving traces.
From the moment they entered the coastal zone, the Hyuga had slowed again, advancing cautiously. Though still technically within the Land of Fire, they were now very near the combat zone. Encountering Mist-nin scouts here would surprise no one.
The Land of Fire did not directly border the Land of Water. Between them lay three small nations—Iron, Whirlpool, and Bear. The Land of Whirlpools, of course, had long since perished. Though people still lived on its islands, the nation itself had collapsed into isolated, self-sustaining villages, cut off from the outside world. Caught between the ambitions of great powers, its territory had become a battleground between Konoha and the Hidden Mist. Even those who were not shinobi suffered the wars of shinobi all the same. Countless innocents had already perished—caught between two armies or butchered by rogue ninja.
The Land of Bear was much the same. Though its daimyo still ruled in name, the country had no real military force—unlike the neutral Land of Iron. That weakness had made it the Mist's springboard for attacks into the Land of Fire—and thus, another blood-soaked battlefield.
Ao's last known location had been within the main island of the former Land of Whirlpools. That was their destination—and the true front line. Once they crossed the border, the danger would spike sharply.
As the smell of salt thickened, Hyuga Hizashi unrolled the travel map and studied their position.
"Satoru," he said, "at our current pace, we'll reach the coast soon. If we plan to head for the main battlefield, we'll need to cross the sea. Should we take one of Konoha's warships—or try to blend in with civilian vessels?"
After days of travel, Hizashi already had a good grasp of his nephew's intent. Satoru wanted to strike like a shadow—slip across unnoticed, assassinate Ao before anyone realized what had happened, and withdraw before the enemy could react. That was why they had delegated information-gathering to the Hyuga scouts already stationed at the front—while the main force advanced slowly, hidden in the forests.
But now the question of how to cross the sea had become crucial. Though a skilled ninja could walk on water using chakra, crossing the ocean that way would consume enormous energy. And once they arrived in hostile territory, every drop of chakra would matter. Yet using one of Konoha's warships was even riskier. Those vessels were surely under enemy observation; if they boarded one, their movements would instantly be exposed. As for hiring civilian fishermen—the danger of discovery was no less.
In the end, the decision would fall to Satoru. Hizashi, watching quietly, wanted to see how his nephew handled it.
Satoru thought for only a moment before taking out a scroll and quickly inscribing four identical orders: Halt movement. Hold position and await further instruction. Then, using the Flying Thunder God Technique, he sent the messages directly to the four auxiliary Hyuga squads. At once, the main force stopped. Moments later, the other squads—linked to his teleportation marks—did the same.
Satoru exhaled, then said evenly, "Orochimaru and Danzo are political allies. I don't trust Orochimaru in the slightest. Right now, the village's warships are under close surveillance by the Mist. Using them would be too dangerous. I think disguising ourselves and taking a civilian vessel is the better choice."
He turned to Hizashi. "Uncle, are there any fishing villages nearby?"
Hizashi's expression softened slightly, unable to hide his approval. This wasn't the first time Satoru had impressed him—but every time, it felt fresh. What he admired most about Satoru wasn't his prodigious talent or his mastery of the Byakugan—it was his decisiveness. The ability to make calm, precise judgments under pressure—that was the mark of a future leader.
After a brief pause, Hizashi nodded. "There's a small fishing settlement nearby. You plan to use it to cross? But the villagers fear the war—they won't dare ferry us. And with so many people, our presence would stand out. We may have to buy a vessel ourselves."
Satoru smiled faintly. "Our numbers won't be a problem. I'll send one of our people ahead with a Flying Thunder God marker. Once she reaches the other side, I'll teleport everyone else there instantly. From the enemy's perspective, it'll be as if we appeared out of thin air."
As he spoke, Satoru pressed his palm against the trunk of a nearby tree, leaving behind a faint, glowing seal—the mark of his teleportation. He had been doing this throughout their journey—leaving Flying Thunder God marks at regular intervals, forming an invisible lifeline across the landscape. Even before planning the hunt for Ao, he had already prepared an escape route.
Hizashi blinked, then gave a short, incredulous laugh. "I keep forgetting… you really can do that."
The Flying Thunder God was more than just a combat technique—it was a tactical miracle. Used cleverly, it could change the shape of an entire war.
"To the fishing village, then," Hizashi said at last. "Let Mio go ahead—people drop their guard around a young girl."
At the sound of her name, Hyuga Mio—who had been quietly standing guard behind them—gave a crisp nod.
But just as Satoru was about to give the order to move again, his expression suddenly sharpened. He had sensed it—six strong chakra signatures, closing fast.
"Hmm?"
None of the Hyuga scouts stationed farther out had noticed yet—but Satoru's sensory perception had picked them up early.
"There are shinobi approaching," he said calmly. "From the direction and speed… it doesn't seem like we're their target."
He focused his senses. If the enemy kept their current course, they would pass dangerously close to the western Hyuga squad—less than a few hundred meters apart.
Without hesitation, Satoru scribbled a warning on a sealing tag and vanished in a flicker of light.
A moment later, Hyuga Keisuke—commander of the western squad—received the warning through the teleportation seal. At once, his team snapped to readiness. They scattered silently into the shadows, activating their Byakugan to scan the area.
Ten minutes later, the six approaching shinobi finally entered visual range. The Hyuga scouts immediately recognized the distinctive gear of their enemies.
"Mist-nin… reconnaissance unit."
"They've crossed the front line and infiltrated this deep?"
"What are they planning…?"
The squad's young leader, Hyuga Yuta, barely twenty, narrowed his eyes. This mission had deliberately chosen younger Hyuga operatives—their elders wanted them to face the reality of war, to temper them through danger. Yuta signaled his men with silent hand signs—report to the main force, but maintain concealment.
Yet before they could finish relaying, the Mist-nin abruptly shifted direction—charging straight toward them.
"They found us!"
"Everyone, prepare for combat!"
Yuta hissed, drawing his kunai. A heartbeat later, the forest erupted with movement—the rustle of leaves, the soft hiss of chakra.
The mist thickened, spreading unnaturally fast.
Then came the shriek of steel—whoosh! whoosh! A volley of shuriken sliced through the air, glittering like silver rain.
Clang! Clang!
Yuta and his comrades deflected the blades, but the assault forced them from hiding. In a blur of movement, the four Hyuga regrouped back-to-back, forming a tight circle, their Byakugan flaring white in the dim, mist-choked light.
"This fog—it's infused with chakra," one of them murmured. "A Mist Technique."
The thick haze glimmered faintly in their vision—proof that it was an enemy jutsu. But the Byakugan could not be blinded so easily. Through their 360-degree sight, the Hyuga could clearly see the silhouettes of Mist-nin crouched behind rocks and branches all around them.
They were surrounded—but so were their enemies.
The Mist-nin didn't realize that the other Hyuga squads—and Satoru's main force—were already closing in. What seemed like an encirclement… was about to become a counter-encirclement.
Hyuga Yuta's voice was calm as he raised his kunai.
"No need to hide anymore," he said clearly. "In front of the Byakugan of the Hyuga Clan, your little tricks are useless."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, faint footsteps echoed in the fog.
A low chuckle answered him.
"Hyuga, huh? Tch… what rotten luck. Guess there's no helping it, then…"
The voice fell silent—then the mist split with a sharp hiss.
A water bullet burst from the fog, slicing through the haze, and shot straight toward the Hyuga formation.
Boom!
A pale flash rippled at Yuta's flank—space twisted like heat above stone.
Satoru stepped out of the light, eyes narrowing. "Formation tight—on my mark."
The trap had closed… but not on the Hyuga.
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