Chapter 535: Frontline Advancement

The commanding voice of the Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki, echoed across the battlefield, cutting through the clamor of ongoing skirmishes.

As soon as his words faded, both the Konoha and Iwa ninjas halted mid-battle. Eyes turned skyward, focusing on the diminutive figure hovering above. Their gazes quickly shifted to the man standing beside him—Rōshi, his arm severed and bloodied, supported by the Tsuchikage.

A wave of shock rippled through the Iwa forces. Horror and disbelief were etched into their expressions as they registered the extent of Rōshi's injuries.

Even Jiraiya, locked in a fierce battle with Kitsuchi, paused in mid-motion. Kitsuchi's face darkened, the weight of the situation evident in his grim demeanor. Jiraiya, on the other hand, allowed a faint smile to creep across his face.

"Looks like Uchiha Yoruki held his own," Jiraiya murmured to himself, his tone laced with cautious optimism.

Swish!

The sharp sound of air being sliced drew attention back to the battlefield. A lone figure descended rapidly, landing at the center of the chaos.

All eyes turned to see the Third Hokage standing resolutely, his presence commanding immediate attention.

The Third Tsuchikage glared down at his counterpart with a grim expression before bellowing once more, "What are you waiting for? Retreat!"

"Withdraw!" Kitsuchi shouted, his deep voice carrying authority. The Iwa ninjas, still brimming with combat-fueled aggression, hesitated. But seeing the grim reality of Rōshi's injuries, they reluctantly suppressed their bloodlust.

Glancing warily at their Konoha counterparts, who shared a similar reluctance to disengage, the Iwa forces began to retreat.

As the Iwagakure ninjas fell back, Jiraiya approached the Third Hokage in a few swift leaps. "Teacher Sarutobi," he said, his voice tinged with concern. "What about Uchiha Yoruki? Is he alright?"

The Third Hokage glanced at his former student and replied, "He expended a great deal of energy. I've left him in Enma care for now."

Overhead, Ōnoki scoffed, his disdain audible even from a distance. "Sarutobi Hiruzen, don't think this war is over!"

The Third Hokage turned his gaze upward, his face unreadable as he met Ōnoki's glare. Without another word, Ōnoki carried Rōshi away, retreating into the horizon with the remnants of the Iwagakure forces following in his wake.

"I'll go fetch that boy," Jiraiya said, his tone lighter now that the immediate threat had subsided.

The Third Hokage nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Jiraiya vanished in a flash, heading toward the area where Yoruki had last been seen. It wasn't long before he spotted the staggering figure of Yoruki, leaning heavily on Enma, the Third Hokage's summon.

Jiraiya approached swiftly. "Enma, leave him to me," he said, his voice respectful.

Though Enma was a summon, his strength and wisdom demanded deference, and Jiraiya treated him as an elder. Enma nodded solemnly, carefully transferring Yoruki's unconscious form to Jiraiya.

Yoruki's pale face and slackened posture betrayed the extent of his exhaustion. The battle had drained him of both chakra and the immense energy required to wield his Mangekyō Sharingan.

The war's immediate conflict had drawn to a close, and the battered Konoha forces wasted no time in relocating their camp. The once-vital battleground, now marred with craters and strewn with the fallen, was abandoned as the Third Hokage ordered the camp moved several kilometers away.

Victory belonged to Konoha this day. With Rōshi, the Four-Tails Jinchūriki, grievously injured, they had dealt a significant blow to Iwagakure. The retreat of Ōnoki and his forces left Konoha with an opportunity to tighten their hold on the Land of Grass.

Nightfall brought a quiet tension to the new Konoha camp. The makeshift shelters stood stark against the darkened sky, their occupants weary from the day's battle.

Inside one of the tents, Uchiha Yoruki stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, and a faint groan escaped his lips as he attempted to focus.

"You're awake," a calm voice greeted him.

Yoruki turned his head toward the source of the voice but could only make out a blurry silhouette. The haze clouding his vision caused his stomach to twist with unease.

Moments later, the flap of the tent rustled as someone hurried outside.

"Are there any lasting effects?" Yoruki wondered silently, his heart sinking. The extended use of the Mangekyō Sharingan's abilities had taken its toll, and he was acutely aware of the price.

The medical ninja stationed nearby answered his question as if sensing his concern. "You've been asleep for over eight hours."

Nodding faintly, Yoruki raised his trembling hand to his face, trying to gauge the extent of the damage. Still, the world around him remained a blur.

"Swish!"

Focusing his remaining strength, Yoruki activated his Sharingan. The three black magatama in his eyes spun briefly before interlocking, transforming into the intricate patterns of the Mangekyō.

"Was it due to overexertion?" Yoruki wondered. The power in his eyes felt unstable, as though straining against an invisible boundary.

He deactivated his Sharingan, hoping to ease the strain, and his vision began to sharpen slightly.

Just then, a tall figure entered the tent, casting a long shadow.

"Boy, are you alright?" The voice was unmistakably Jiraiya's, though his tone was uncharacteristically gentle.

The unexpected warmth in Jiraiya's demeanor took Yoruki by surprise. He hesitated before nodding stiffly.

"Hokage-sama wishes to see you," Jiraiya said.

"I understand," Yoruki replied, his voice firm despite his condition.

As he stood, a flicker of discomfort crossed his face. Jiraiya, observing him closely, noted the subtle signs of lingering impairment.

"Do you need my help?" Jiraiya asked, his tone even.

Yoruki froze briefly, his pride warring with practicality. Though his vision was still recovering, his instincts pushed him to refuse.

"No need," he said, his words decisive.

Jiraiya nodded but didn't press further. "Then follow me," he said simply, leading Yoruki out of the tent.

The main tent of the Konoha camp stood illuminated, a beacon of authority amidst the dim surroundings. As they entered, the Third Hokage turned to greet them, his expression a mix of relief and contemplation.

"You're here," he said warmly.

"Hokage-sama," Yoruki began, his tone deferential as he instinctively moved to bow.

In a flash, the Third Hokage closed the distance, gently preventing Yoruki from kneeling.

"There's no need for that," the Hokage said, smiling faintly. "We're all family here."

Yoruki blinked, startled by the uncharacteristic informality.

The Hokage's gaze softened as he studied Yoruki closely. After a moment, he sighed and said, "As I thought, your vision has deteriorated."

Yoruki's chest tightened, his fears confirmed. "How did you know?" he asked, though the answer was already forming in his mind.

The Senju clan, once the bitter rivals of the Uchiha, had fought countless battles against Sharingan users. The Third Hokage, as a disciple of Tobirama and Hashirama Senju, undoubtedly possessed deep knowledge of the Sharingan's capabilities—and its consequences.

Understanding dawned, and Yoruki's thoughts quieted.

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