Chapter 22: The Wind Rises

(Enjoy the new book peoples)

Five years had passed, and in that time, Asura had transformed from a promising child into a formidable force within the Uchiha clan. Now 9, almost 10 years old, his name was spoken with respect and even a touch of fear among the clans. On the battlefield, he was a storm incarnate, conjuring hurricanes and tornadoes that swept through enemy ranks, leaving devastation in his wake. The Uchiha had been involved in numerous wars and skirmishes over the years, and Asura's abilities had been instrumental in their victories. He had developed a technique that combined wind and lightning chakra to form a kind of armor, enhancing his speed and reflexes. His mastery over these elements earned him the reputation of a deadly, unstoppable force.

Despite only having one functioning eye, Asura's prowess had grown to the point where this weakness was almost irrelevant. Through sheer effort, instinct, and the power of his three-tomoe Sharingan, he had turned it into a strength, relying on his heightened senses and reflexes to outmaneuver his opponents. His chakra pool had expanded, and he had learned to balance his affinity for wind, his strength in fire, and his tactical use of lightning. He was, without a doubt, one of the Uchiha clan's most powerful warriors.

The Uchiha clan had called for war once again, and their enemy was all too familiar: the Senju. Over the years, the clashes between the Uchiha and Senju had intensified, with each side trying to assert dominance. Asura was preparing for yet another battle, but this time, his role had an added responsibility. He was to watch over the young heir of the clan leader, Madara Uchiha.

Madara was only five years old, yet he was far from an ordinary child. Even at his young age, there was a maturity about him, a sharpness in his eyes that reflected his lineage. He had been brought to the battlefield, not to be coddled, but to begin understanding the brutal reality of the world he would one day lead. Asura was there to make sure Madara did not die, but Madara would still be expected to fight—such was the way of the Uchiha.

Asura stood in his black cloak, the Uchiha symbol displayed boldly on his back. A black sword hung at his side, and his armor plates were strategically placed to protect his vital organs. A straw hat rested on his head, slightly tilting to shield his face from the sun's rays. As he readied himself, he noticed Madara approaching. Even at a distance, there was something commanding about the way Madara carried himself, a quiet confidence that made him seem older than he was.

"Asura," Madara called out, his voice calm and steady. "You're assigned to keep an eye on me, right?"

Asura nodded, his expression neutral. "That's right. My job is to make sure you don't get yourself killed out there."

Madara's lips twitched into a slight smirk. "I don't plan on dying. I'll show them what it means to be Uchiha." There was no hint of fear in his voice, only determination.

"I hope so," Asura replied, adjusting his cloak. "But don't get careless. The Senju may be trash, but they're still dangerous when underestimated."

Madara's eyes narrowed slightly, but he gave a sharp nod. "I won't underestimate them. If they get in my way, I'll cut them down."

Asura studied Madara for a moment. He had seen that look before—the same determination he had when he first stepped onto the battlefield. "When we get back, I'll teach you some jutsu. But first, you need to survive today. Understand?"

Madara met Asura's gaze, his expression unwavering. "I understand. I won't lose."

Just then, the clan leader, Tajima Uchiha, approached. His presence commanded respect, and even the most seasoned warriors straightened up when he drew near. Tajima's eyes moved from Asura to Madara, his expression stern. "Asura," he said, "make sure Madara doesn't fall. He is my heir, and I won't have him die here today. But let him fight. He needs to understand what it means to be Uchiha."

Asura nodded. "I understand. He'll fight, but he won't die."

Tajima's eyes softened briefly as he looked at his son. "Madara, remember who you are. Show them the strength of the Uchiha. Do not bring shame to our name."

"I won't," Madara replied, his voice firm.

Tajima gave a satisfied nod before stepping away, issuing commands to the rest of the clan. The Uchiha forces began to gather, their numbers strong and spirits high. The anticipation for the upcoming battle was electric, and Asura could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. There was no doubt in his mind that they would emerge victorious. The Senju were a persistent thorn in their side, but they were no match for the might of the Uchiha.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the Uchiha warriors assembled, their dark cloaks blending with the shadows. Asura glanced at Madara one last time, seeing the determination in the young boy's eyes. "Stay close, but don't hesitate to strike. This is war, and there's no room for mercy."

Madara nodded, drawing his small blade. "I understand."

With a final glance at the gathering forces, Asura adjusted his hat and cloak. The Uchiha were ready, and so was he. Tonight, they would once again remind the world why the Uchiha were feared. The storm was about to begin, and Asura intended to be at the heart of it, cutting down anything that stood in their way.

As Tajima raised his hand, signaling for the march, the Uchiha forces began to move, a sea of dark cloaks and sharp eyes. They were a storm, and they would sweep through the Senju like a hurricane. Asura and Madara moved with them, side by side, their presence barely a whisper among the growing roar of the clan's march. Whatever lay ahead, Asura was ready to face it—and he would make sure Madara was too.