With the original composition of Minato's team, the imbalance in combat strength had actually caused a split in responsibilities. During missions, tasks were often divided: Minato himself handled the most critical and dangerous part, while the remaining three students took on the rest.
Take the Battle of Kannabi Bridge, which had concluded not long ago.
The objective was clear—destroy Kannabi Bridge and completely sever Iwagakure's supply lines. After entering the Land of Earth, Minato continued deeper alone, drawing attention and restraining enemy forces, while Kakashi and the other two carried out the actual demolition.
On the surface, Minato's role looked like support.
In reality, which side was more dangerous was obvious.
In the current large-scale frontal engagements, if Minato wanted to truly unleash his maximum combat power, his speed had to be pushed to the extreme. Given his fighting style—centered on space–time ninjutsu combined with astonishing reflexes—the existence of bodyguards did not seem particularly meaningful on the surface.
If everyone were to fight at full efficiency, the new squad should technically still operate in a "1 + 3" formation rather than as a fully integrated four-man unit.
These two factors combined caused a slight desynchronization between Minato and the other three.
This also showed that Minato's mindset had not yet fully adjusted—or rather, that he still hadn't completely internalized his identity as the Fourth Hokage's designated successor.
For Hagoromo and the others, their ultimate mission was not cutting down enemies.
It was ensuring that Minato himself was not cut down.
The new Minato squad could certainly be called a combat unit—but a bodyguard team was still a bodyguard team. Combat was not their highest priority.
That said, compared to Kakashi, Obito, and Rin back then, the combined strength of Hagoromo, Akimichi Chōza, and Aburame Shibi was on an entirely different level.
Even if the work was exhausting, they carried out their duties with unwavering discipline.
Konoha's forces struck an Iwagakure army that had already lost its supply lines. After gaining the upper hand, they did not linger, but withdrew quickly in accordance with their predetermined strategy.
And this was far from a one-time operation.
Over the following half month, Konoha launched similar actions again and again, sending a very clear message through practical action:
Are you leaving, or not?
If not, we'll keep harassing you until you do.
Given enough time, even water could wear through stone.
At this rate, Konoha could very well grind Iwagakure's forces down bit by bit—quietly, efficiently, and with minimal casualties.
Eventually, Iwagakure "came to its senses" and gave up struggling.
Under Konoha's continuous pressure, they did not hold out for long before abandoning the Land of Grass and retreating back into the Land of Earth.
With their supply lines severed, what else could they do?
Even Ōnoki the Fence-Sitter had no choice.
The Iwa shinobi retreated in disgrace, full of strength they had no way to use.
This ironclad fact once again proved an unshakable truth:
In war, infrastructure matters.
Fail to secure it, and you're bound to be struck at the vital point—losing in the most humiliating way possible.
At this stage of the war, both Konoha and Iwagakure understood something clearly.
It was easy for Iwagakure's main forces to leave the Land of Grass.
But returning?
That would be exceedingly difficult.
Thus, although no clean peace treaty was signed as it had been with Kirigakure, Konoha and Iwagakure had effectively disengaged. The Land of Grass became a buffer zone—an empty space between the two great villages.
The Land of Fire and the Land of Earth entered a state of de facto ceasefire.
With no realistic chance of defeating Konoha, any plan for Iwagakure to return to the Land of Grass became meaningless—never to be proposed again.
From this point on, Konoha's only remaining true enemy was Kumogakure.
The end of the Third Great Ninja War drew ever closer.
Continuous victories filled Konoha's shinobi with an irrepressible sense of joy—even on the front lines.
Looking at the Second and Third Great Ninja Wars together, the fighting had lasted for many years. Entire generations of shinobi had died on the battlefield.
Now that the light of victory was finally visible, emotions long suppressed naturally began to overflow.
Shinobi, after all, were still human.
However, Konoha's command believed the situation was not so optimistic.
Kumogakure remained an extremely formidable opponent.
If the war became a pure confrontation between Konoha and Kumo, without interference from other villages, the outcome would be difficult to predict. The Land of Lightning's military strength was no exaggeration—it could rival the Land of Fire.
Even with Konoha currently holding the advantage, there was no guarantee they could crush Kumogakure outright.
Just like at the start of the war, when multiple villages had surrounded Konoha yet failed to push deep into the Land of Fire—
The situation was now reversed.
The offensive and defensive roles had simply swapped.
The front line—it could now truly be called that.
With Iwagakure gone from the Land of Grass, Konoha's fronts against Iwa and Kumo would be folded together. The length of the battle line was no longer necessary; what mattered now was thickness and concentration.
Except for essential reconnaissance and surveillance units, all remaining forces facing the Land of Grass would be redeployed to the Land of Rice Fields, to deal with Kumogakure.
Minato's squad would move as well.
As usual, they would be among the very last to do so.
Thus, they found themselves with a brief period of relative downtime.
Inside Minato's tent, only Hagoromo and Namikaze Minato were present.
The other two were nowhere to be seen—either wandering the Konoha camp or maintaining perimeter security around the tent. During such large-scale troop movements, disorder was inevitable, and it was never impossible for someone unwanted to slip in.
Minato was holding a sphere in his hand, deep in thought. His expression showed clear frustration.
It was a blue, high-density, violently rotating mass of chakra.
Its official name was the Rasengan.
This was likely one of the few things in Minato's life that he had named correctly on the first try.
At the moment, Minato was trying to incorporate chakra nature transformation into the Rasengan—but so far, he hadn't found a breakthrough.
In ninjutsu development, difficulty of creation, difficulty of training, and power were entirely different concepts.
Minato had spent nearly three years developing the Rasengan as a hand-seal-less technique. Later, its training difficulty was classified as A-rank, notoriously hard.
As for adding nature transformation—
Who knew how long that would take?
The difficulty of a Wind Release Rasengan wasn't simply adding the element.
The real challenge was eliminating the severe backlash wind chakra caused to the user.
Even a normal Rasengan could badly scorch the user's skin if mishandled. A Wind Release Rasengan could easily cripple the caster's hand entirely.
Hagoromo couldn't really help with this.
He vaguely remembered that someone had solved it using a three-way cooperation method, but as for the precise principle behind negating the damage—
He had no idea.
That said, Hagoromo wasn't just standing around watching Minato struggle.
He was busy with his own work.
At this moment, he was holding a surgical scalpel in his right hand, carving intricate lines into his left arm.
Blood trickled down his skin, dripping to the ground—
As he continued to engrave something into his flesh.
◇ BONUS & SUPPORT ◇
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 10 reviews — drop a comment!
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ Read 70 chapters ahead on P@treon → patreon.com/Chakraflow789