The Konoha encampment.
When Uchiha Yuan and his squad appeared at the camp gates and made their way inside, every genin they passed turned toward him with eyes full of admiration and respect.
Even some of the chūnin and jōnin gave him approving nods.
In the months of brutal combat that had passed, Uchiha Yuan's name had spread throughout the front. The Sand Hidden had begun calling him the Crimson Tiger of Doom—a title earned only through the kind of devastation he'd dealt them. None dared underestimate him now.
Among the veteran shinobi who had once fought under Hatake Sakumo, many looked at Yuan with conflicted expressions.
His ferocious, lightning-fast movements on the battlefield reminded them painfully of that man—the "White Fang of Konoha," once feared and revered across the ninja world.
That night.
In the forest near the camp, Uchiha Yuan lay stretched out across the top of a great tree, gazing at the night sky.
The half-moon reflected in his eyes as they gleamed faintly, his vision pushing to its utmost limit. He could see the craters and ridges across the moon's surface with perfect clarity.
A gentle night breeze whispered through the branches. The slender twigs swayed softly, yet Yuan's body remained perfectly still, balanced as if weightless—his form rising and falling with the motion of the branch beneath him, light as a leaf.
At some point, a black-patterned serpent with violet scales slithered silently up the tree trunk, coiling around a nearby branch.
Its crimson tongue flickered in and out, cold reptilian eyes studying the boy in silence.
Moments passed. The serpent eventually stopped moving, lifting its head to gaze at the same moon above.
Man and snake—quietly sharing the treetop, neither disturbing the other.
Time slipped by in that tranquil stillness until the eastern horizon began to pale.
Uchiha Yuan slowly sat upright, legs crossed. He exhaled a long, steady breath.
When he opened his eyes again, the serpent was gone.
Rising to his feet, he balanced on a twig no thicker than a finger, gazing into the distance.
There, the vast yellow sands of the Wind Country met the green forests and rolling hills of the Fire Country—a clear, unwavering divide.
Swish!
A sharp gust swept past, and Yuan's silhouette vanished from the treetop.
Later that afternoon, the air was thick with heat—and blood.
Not far from the desert's edge, another battle was raging among the trees.
It was a small-scale encounter, both sides numbering around a hundred.
Rumble!
Under the barrage of ninjutsu from both armies, the ground split and heaved, trees splintering and falling all around.
Amid the chaos, one figure drew every eye.
Uchiha Yuan, shuriken in hand, moved like lightning through the melee. Every flash of his blade brought another Sand ninja crashing to the earth, clutching at a torn throat and spilling blood.
"Kill him!"
A Sand shinobi roared, weaving hand seals.
"Earth Release—Yellow Springs Swamp!"
The ground before Yuan turned to sucking mud—one step in, and he'd be trapped like prey in quicksand.
At the same moment, two other Sand nin hurled volleys of kunai at him.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Yuan's shuriken blurred into motion, a storm of cold light that deflected every incoming blade.
Then two Sand nin appeared behind him, twin shuriken thrusting straight for his back.
Substitution Technique!
Their weapons struck only a wooden log.
The next instant, shadows fell across their faces—Yuan's foot swept in, a gale-force kick sending both men hurtling dozens of meters away, ribs caved in, a single bootprint marring their chests.
Yuan's feet slammed down, cracking the ground beneath him as he launched himself forward like a cannonball into the Sand formation.
Multiple enemies converged at once—ninja and puppets alike.
Crash!
A puppet's massive blade struck. Yuan blocked with his shuriken, but after so many clashes, the weapon finally shattered.
He twisted aside, the blade still slicing open his sleeve.
"Earth Release—Cracking Earth Turning Palm!"
A surge of chakra split the ground as several puppets lunged in, boxing him in. The earth rose like a giant hand, slamming down toward him.
Boom!
The massive slab exploded under Yuan's counterpunch. In a blur of motion, he slipped through the smoke, his open hand cutting like a blade through the chakra threads controlling the puppets.
In an instant, their movement ceased—lifeless.
He leapt from the encirclement, closing in on another Sand shinobi.
Minutes later, the sounds of battle began to fade.
The Sand forces broke, retreating in disarray and leaving behind their dead.
Yuan stood among the bodies and the shattered remains of puppets, killing intent radiating from him like frost. The aura around him was suffocating—few dared approach.
He watched the direction the enemy had fled, but made no move to pursue. Slowly, his murderous pressure ebbed away. Around him, Konoha's surviving ninja were panting, utterly exhausted.
When they finally returned to camp, the entire base was a blur of activity—medical-nin rushing from tent to tent.
That day hadn't seen just Yuan's battle; at another outpost, an even larger engagement had erupted, over a thousand combatants on both sides.
It, too, had ended in a decisive Sand defeat.
In fact, across every front, the pattern had become clear.
Small skirmishes might see Sand victories—but any large-scale clash always ended with their retreat.
Uchiha Yuan understood then that the outcome of the war was already sealed. The Sand Hidden had lost any hope of turning the tide.
And sure enough, within days, reconnaissance teams reported the same: the Sand forces had completely withdrawn, entrenching themselves on the defensive.
The battlefield between Konoha and the Sand fell into uneasy calm.
Another quiet night.
Uchiha Yuan returned to the familiar grove near camp. With a single, effortless leap, he landed atop a tree and reclined on the branch.
The moon was full and radiant, the night breeze soft, brushing his hair.
All around was stillness. Stars glittered like shards of frost scattered across the heavens.
A large serpent with black markings and violet scales slithered out from the shadows, coiling silently upon a nearby branch.
Yuan's eyes stayed fixed on the moon. He didn't react at all.
After a long silence, he spoke. "You have refined tastes, Orochimaru-senpai. You never fail to join me for a bit of moon-gazing."
"Heh… heh…"
A low chuckle came from within the serpent.
Then its jaws parted wide—and from within the snake's mouth, a tall figure emerged.
It was none other than Orochimaru, the commander of the Konoha forces on the Sand front—one of the legendary Sannin himself.
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