Naruto: Reborn With An AI Chip

The war raged on. Aside from a few remaining areas of resistance, Kirigakure had seized dominant control over most of the battlefield—their surprise assault had given them a clear advantage.

Yet despite this overwhelming superiority, they still hadn't shattered Konoha's spirit. The Konoha shinobi fought with fierce determination, refusing to fall—even when driven to the brink.

This deadlock enraged the Mist's commander-in-chief, Fuguki. Despite every advantage on their side, the victory he expected remained just out of reach—and that was something he could not tolerate.

"Useless trash!" Fuguki roared, his massive body spun around as he shouted: "Kisame!"

Kisame appeared beside him in the next instant: "What are your orders, Fuguki-sama?"

Fuguki looked at him, his eyes filled with killing intent, and ordered in a loud and grim voice: "Send word to the Kaguya and Yuki Clans. I want them on the battlefield."

"Right away, Fuguki-sama." Kisame replied calmly, then vanished without another word.

No sooner had Kisame departed than a nearby Mist Jonin hesitantly stepped forward: "Fuguki-sama… is it really wise to involve those two clans?"

Though both the Kaguya and Yuki Clans were renowned bloodline families within Kirigakure, their relationship with the Fourth Mizukage had grown strained—twisted by tragedy and fear. Under his rule, both clans had suffered unexplained "accidents," and the atmosphere surrounding them had grown dark and bitter.

Before the war even began, the Mizukage had made his stance clear: neither clan was to be given opportunities for glory nor allowed to expand their influence within the village. Now, with victory seemingly within reach, summoning them to the battlefield risked drawing the wrath of the village's supreme leader.

At this stage, the Hidden Mist had yet to witness the full horror of their leader's reign—but that would change soon. There was no open conflict yet, only quiet suppression. But after the Third Great Ninja War, everything would descend into darkness.

In the years that followed, Kirigakure would earn the infamous title "The Bloody Mist"—a name born of the Mizukage's brutal policies.

Bloodline clans would be hunted, exiled, or slaughtered without mercy.

The Yuki Clan, the Kaguya Clan, and many others would face extinction—not by foreign enemies, but by the very village they had sworn to protect.

Fuguki slowly turned his head, the bloodlust in his eyes were enough to freeze the man's blood: "Tell me… who's the commander here—you or me?!"

The Mist Jōnin's body went cold, and he quickly replied in a trembling voice: "Y-you, of course! You are, Fuguki-sama!"

"Then I don't need your opinion." Fuguki said, his voice as sharp and cold as a cleaver. The killing intent that surged from him was suffocating—so heavy, it nearly scared the Jonin to death.

Only when Fuguki withdrew his murderous aura did the man feel the slightest relief.

But he was already drenched in sweat, gasping for breath, and staring at Fuguki's back in terror.

Fuguki cast him a final, dismissive glance: "Speak again without my permission, and I'll kill you myself."

"…Y-Yes, sir…" The man croaked, barely managing the words—his throat was bone-dry, his body frozen with fear. He didn't dare utter another word.

---

Back at the Kaguya Clan compound, the message from Kisame had already been delivered.

"So… the mighty Fuguki Suikazan is finally asking for help?" The Kaguya Clan Head sneered, his lips curling in amusement: "Tell him the Kaguya will enter the fray."

"Understood. I'll inform the Yuki Clan next." Kisame replied coldly, before vanishing into the mist.

As soon as Kisame left, a younger clan member leaned in and asked in a concerned voice: "Clan Leader… is this really the right choice?"

"Hmph!" The clan head scoffed, his eyes were gleaming with battle hunger: "You don't need to concern yourself with that. Inform the others—the time for battle has come!"

"Yes, sir!" Several Kaguya shinobi responded in unison before dashing off to rally the other clan members.

---

Unlike the war-hungry Kaguya, the Yuki Clan handled things with more caution.

"We'll deploy immediately." Their leader told Kisame with a polite bow. But as soon as Kisame left, his expression darkened.

"Clan Leader?" One of the Yuki elders asked in a worried voice.

"That Fuguki… this isn't a request. It's a trap." The Yuki Clan leader said grimly: "He knows we're on bad terms with the Mizukage. This isn't about winning the war—it's about forcing our hand and deepening the rift."

"Then what do we do?" Another elder asked: "We can't risk angering the Mizukage any further. He already controls all of Kirigakure."

The Yuki leader rubbed his temples and replied: "It's not just him. Others in the village want us gone too."

An elder clenched his fists, his voice rose with anger: "Have they all forgotten our sacrifices?!"

Before anyone could respond, a messenger burst into the room, breathless: "Clan Leader! Urgent message—from the Kaguya Clan!"

The Yuki elder scolded him: "Calm down, and speak slowly!"

The messenger bowed his head and held out the note with both hands in silence.

The clan leader snatched it, scanned the contents—and immediately hurled it to the floor. His face twisted in fury: "Bastards! Braindead fools! They're going to doom us all!"

"What was in the letter?" Someone asked, confusion rippled through the room.

One of the elders stepped forward, picked up the discarded note, and quickly read it.

His expression darkened with a mix of disgust and fury.

The message was short—and absurdly reckless: "Join us in battle and show the Mizukage he can't control us."

The Yuki Clan leader nearly exploded on the spot. He clenched his fists tightly, and for a moment, he looked ready to storm out and strangle the Kaguya Clan head himself.

If the Kaguya truly intended to act on this letter… it would be a death sentence—not just for them, but for both clans.

The Fourth Mizukage wasn't just the leader of Kirigakure—challenging him was the same as challenging the entire village. Everyone knew of his ruthless nature. If he decided to destroy a clan, he wouldn't face resistance—it would be done swiftly and without mercy.

No one dared disobey his orders. And it wasn't just his authority that made him feared—he was an exceptionally powerful shinobi, and more than that, a Jinchūriki.

Crossing him wasn't just reckless—it was suicidal.

The only reason the Mizukage hadn't acted against them yet was because of their past contributions to the village—years of service and sacrifice that had earned them a fragile reprieve.

And now, the Kaguya Clan was about to destroy all of it with their reckless defiance.

And because the Yuki were their allies—bound together to weather the Mizukage's growing hostility—they would be dragged down with them.

Even if they didn't fight, the Mizukage would see them as conspirators. They were doomed either way.

"Clan Leader! What should we do?" One of the elders asked cautiously.

A long, heavy silence followed. Then, the Yuki Clan Leader let out a weary sigh. His voice was low, exhausted: "We fight. At this point, we have no other choice. We'll stake everything on the battlefield—win glory, earn respect, and pray it's enough to make the Mizukage hesitate."

---

With the Kaguya and Yuki Clans unleashed, the situation for Konoha's forces turned dangerously dire.

The two bloodline giants of Kirigakure clashed head-on with Konoha's legendary clans: the Uchiha and the Hyūga.

Surprisingly, the Kaguya avoided the Hyūga entirely, directing their bloodlust toward the Uchiha instead. Meanwhile, the Hyūga found themselves locked in a brutal engagement with the Yuki—ice against insight.

The shift in pressure was devastating. With Konoha's elite clans drawn into fierce one-on-one battles, Mist forces that had been holding the line elsewhere were now free to spread across the field like wildfire.

Konoha's casualties spiked—and Renjiro's luck finally ran out.

His unit found itself cut off—surrounded by a team led by a Mist Jōnin. Worse still, he wasn't alone. Six elite Chūnin flanked him, their eyes cold and unreadable.

"Damn it…" Maemon muttered, his hand tightening around his weapon.

Around them, several Konoha shinobi looked stricken with fear and despair. If it had just been the Jōnin, they might have stood a chance by swarming him—but with six more elites backing him?

They were in a perilous position.

"Renjiro!" Zeri called out suddenly.

"Yes, Sensei?" Renjiro turned to him, alert.

Zeri's voice said in low and serious: "If we're outmatched… and things get worse—escape. On your own if you have to."

He looked Renjiro in the eyes, and continued: "You're the most gifted civilian-born shinobi I've seen since Minato. You can't fall here. You have a future ahead of you—a long one. Without us slowing you down, you'll make it."

He paused for a moment, then said in a heavy voice: "I'll cover your retreat."

"Sensei…" Renjiro's chest tightened.

"If you can, take the others with you," Zeri added: "But your survival comes first."

Renjiro looked to his team—their faces tense, yet trusting. Then, with deliberate calm, he tied his sword to his waist, drew the blade, and stepped forward.

His eyes were sharp, his voice steady: "No need for farewells just yet. The outcome of this fight… is far from decided."

---

Author's Note:

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