In the 48th year of Konoha's calendar, the tension between nations reached a boiling point. With the latest Chūnin Exams concluded, Tsunade—one of the Legendary Sannin—departed the village, taking her apprentice Shizune with her. Around the same time, the mysterious disappearance of the Third Kazekage from Sunagakure broke the last thread of reason holding the Sand Ninja in check. Fueled by suspicion and unrest, they began their march toward Konoha, setting the stage for the Third Great Ninja War.
By the summer of Konoha Year 49, disputes between nations had escalated beyond diplomatic repair. Killer Bee, the Eight-Tails Jinchūriki from Kumogakure, launched an incursion alongside the village's next Raikage, a young man known as "A." They crossed into Konoha's borders but were ultimately repelled by the Yellow Flash, Namikaze Minato.
In the winter of that same year, the Third Raikage fought ten thousand Iwa-nin alone and died of exhaustion. His fall, alongside that of the missing Third Kazekage, formally marked the onset of the Third Great Ninja War.
Soon after, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist infiltrated the Land of Fire, launching a covert ambush on Konoha. Their advance was unexpectedly halted by a mere genin—Might Duy. In the ensuing battle, four of the Swordsmen perished, and the remaining three fled.
At the time, a squad of Uchiha led by Uchiha Tera was dispatched to the Iwa front lines. Among them was Uchiha Fugaku, the clan head, who brought along his four-year-old son, Uchiha Itachi, for battlefield experience.
In the spring of Konoha Year 50, Kanabi Bridge was officially designated by the Land of Fire as a key strategic stronghold against the Land of Earth. The Uchiha, still under Tera's command, were again dispatched to the front lines.
"Itachi… Itachi, wake up!"
A voice full of concern called out beside his ear.
Inside a tent, Uchiha Itachi slowly opened his eyes. His father's familiar face hovered over him, tight with worry.
What… happened to me?
Seeing his son awaken, Uchiha Fugaku let out a breath of relief. "Good. You're okay."
"What happened, Father?"
Sitting up groggily, Itachi rubbed his head. It felt swollen and heavy, like he'd just woken from a long, endless dream.
"You dealt with an enemy who ambushed us. Quite impressive, actually," Fugaku replied softly. "You took down an Iwa genin. At five years old, no less. You really are my son."
An Iwa genin?
Itachi struggled to recall, and amid the fog of confusion, a fragmented memory surfaced.
As the Uchiha heir, he'd undergone rigorous training from a very young age. This time, he'd joined the main force at the front lines to gain firsthand experience, assigned the task of cleaning up after battles.
During the aftermath of one such skirmish, while gathering the fallen, he'd come across an enemy shinobi—an Iwa ninja still barely clinging to life.
The dying man had one last request: a sip of water.
It was a simple plea. The man could no longer fight, and Itachi, moved by some small flicker of compassion, had poured a little water from his canteen and touched it to the man's lips.
But in the next instant, the dying shinobi had lunged like a crazed beast, slashing with a kunai.
Pure instinct took over. Itachi had drawn his own kunai in response—
"My blade struck first. I felt the resistance in my hand. It tore clean across his neck."
"When the blood gushed out, it was hot. And it stank."
"His eyes first showed surprise… then went blank."
Itachi murmured to himself, involuntarily reliving the moment—every sensation, every smell, every image seared into his mind.
Fear. Confusion. Disgust.
The emotions tangled and surged inside him.
"What are you saying, Itachi?"
His father could barely hear his voice. Itachi's lips moved, but no sound came out.
Fugaku furrowed his brow in concern. "It was your first kill. Even with all the training, it's only natural that your mind would struggle with it at first. But over time, you'll learn—"
"I'm fine, Father."
Itachi's voice was soft but firm. His gaze locked onto Fugaku's face, as if forcing himself not to look away.
After a pause, he added, "But… why did he try to kill me? I wasn't hostile toward him."
He was referring, of course, to the Iwa ninja.
The concern on Fugaku's face faded. With a quiet sigh, his tone grew calm.
"Because this is war."
Itachi frowned. "War?"
"It's not about personal grudges between individuals," Fugaku explained. "This is a clash between nations."
"In war, strangers kill strangers for no reason."
"Even if you've never met. Even if you've never hated each other. Even if you tried to show mercy. On the battlefield, kindness means nothing. Only blades decide who lives."
Itachi turned those words over in his mind. His thoughts drifted back to all he had seen and heard since stepping onto the battlefield. An undeniable loathing began to surface in his chest.
"So that's what this is…"
Fugaku, noticing the revulsion in his son's tone, suddenly snapped, voice stern and cold.
"This is the world of shinobi. Listen carefully, Itachi."
"Never forget what you've seen on this battlefield."
"This… is the truth of the ninja world."
"If you can't learn to adapt to it, if you can't accept what it means to be a shinobi, you'll suffer. Maybe even die."
Itachi felt the rejection rising in his heart—but on the outside, he remained expressionless. He nodded quietly and said, "I understand, Father."
Yet as he spoke, he pressed his fingers to his eyes, clearly troubled. "I think… I need some time to clear my head."
Fugaku hesitated, then relented. "You have the afternoon."
"We'll rest here until evening. After that, we head toward Kanabi Bridge."
He stood, voice steady again.
"The next battles will only grow fiercer. I want you to adjust to the atmosphere—immerse yourself in the reality of war, even if your role is support."
"I understand," Itachi replied.
He had always been mature beyond his years. From the moment of his birth, it was as if he possessed a mind far older than his body.
While other children his age played ninja games in the streets, five-year-old Itachi had already arrived at the front lines, witnessing firsthand the cruelty of war.
Cruelty…
Once Fugaku left and he was alone, Itachi finally had a moment to take in his surroundings.
The small tent couldn't block the smell of blood wafting in from outside with the breeze.
He was still in the same place he'd collapsed, somewhere on the battlefield, shielded now by a temporary camp tarp and shaded from the sun.
His eyes scanned the room.
There was a corner he hadn't dared glance toward while Fugaku was here.
Sunlight slipped through a tear in the canvas, casting light across armor gleaming blue and white.
In that corner stood a faint, ghostlike figure—almost like a soul.
A beautiful girl, dignified and radiant, stood silently in the shadows.
Golden hair framed her face, cascading to her shoulders. Her skin was pale as snow, her features both delicate and noble. Emerald eyes shone with a mysterious brilliance.
Yet… the heavy blue-and-white armor wrapping her entire body, the way her brows stayed furrowed, and the air of quiet command she carried—these things masked her softness.
Rather than a young girl, she felt more like a solitary queen.
She noticed him looking. Calmly, she crossed her arms and met his gaze.
Her voice was steady and confident, a perfect match for her noble presence.
"It's nice to meet you. My name is Artoria Pendragon. I am the King of Britain—Arthur."
As she spoke, a single strand of hair atop her head lifted slightly, caught by the breeze.
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Hey everyone! I'll be dropping an extra 1 chapter once we hit 200, 400 power stones! If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to spend some power stones. I'd really appreciate the support. Thanks a bunch!