The atmosphere of this war was fundamentally different from the previous Great Wars.
A strange sense of superiority had permeated the Konoha camp. It stemmed from a simple, brutal observation: the enemy was living like dogs. The shinobi from the opposing alliance were gaunt, perpetually covered in dust, and spent their days gnawing on rock-hard survival rations that looked like they belonged in a museum. To the Konoha ninja, they looked like common peasants.
In contrast, the Konoha forces were feasting. Meat—real meat—was served regularly in the form of high-quality canned goods. When stewed with the specialized seasonings personally formulated by Hiruko, the aroma wafting from the Konoha camps was enough to drive a starving man mad.
Then there were the canned fruits—an endless variety. Every member of the Konoha Allied Forces was issued one can per day. The contrast in quality of life had reached its absolute limit.
These resources were essentially the "spoils" of the massive loans Minato Namikaze had secured from the Fire Country's Daimyo and nobility. Occasionally, during skirmishes or retreats, crates of Cola, high-end rations, and even melting ice cream would fall into enemy hands. For the starving Stone and Cloud ninja, finding these luxury goods was a devastating blow to their morale—a reminder of exactly how much more their enemies were valued.
In this war, most minor hidden villages had only sent small auxiliary forces. The only exception was the "honest" Hidden Sand, which had deployed its entire strength. Not only was the Fourth Kazekage personally on the front lines, but he had even brought the One-Tails Jinchuriki, Gaara. It was a true "all-in" move. Of course, they were only willing to do this because Hiruko was willing to pay. He had single-handedly provided a massive sum for their military expenses, prompting the Sand to reveal its true hidden reserves.
It wasn't just the Sand; the morale across the entire Konoha camp was at an all-time high. The reason was simple: the mission pay was incredible.
Unlike the stingy, budget-conscious days of the Third Hokage, Hiruko and Minato had practically forced the village elders to release massive amounts of liquidity. Before even leaving the village gates, the shinobi had been paid their "settlement fees" in full. Moved by such rare generosity, any lingering war-weariness was suppressed.
In some ways, shinobi are surprisingly easy to keep happy. Unlike certain pampered civilians who complain even when their bellies are full, a shinobi can endure hell as long as they feel appreciated. While other villages were feeding their men "dreams" and "honor," Hiruko was feeding them steak and cold hard cash.
The weather grew increasingly sweltering. A blinding sun beat down on the earth, causing the ground to crack and tempers to flare. The scent of gunpowder and the metallic tang of blood began to saturate the air of Mount Tielan.
A combined infiltration squad of Stone and Cloud shinobi moved cautiously through the shadows of the trees. The war had entered a white-hot phase. In the mountain forests, both sides were engaged in a cycle of brutal, silent slaughter. Even veterans and Elite Jonin could vanish without a sound.
This "spear-against-shield" combat style meant that every loss was a dagger to the hearts of the Kages. But there was no alternative. Both sides had been fighting for too long; they had too many old-timers who knew every trick in the book. Even if their raw power was inferior, they knew how to set an ambush. A shinobi is a "glass cannon"—even a Genin can kill a Jonin if the trap is set correctly.
As for the Kages themselves, they were on a different level entirely. They couldn't be brought down by mere numbers.
When both sides mastered these tactics, the war devolved into a war of attrition. They spread out across the battlefield, uprooting outposts one by one, slowly squeezing the enemy's living space. The goal was to find a vital organ and deliver a fatal blow. But currently, neither side could find an opening, leading to a long, grinding stalemate.
It was a frustrating reality.
If one had a "god's eye view," they would see a combined Stone and Cloud squad that had been resting under the canopy for two hours. Their stamina was depleted, but they had managed to reach their objective before hitting the danger zone: a hidden Konoha outpost deep in the forest.
"Tch, what a waste," one of the Jonin sighed.
Instead of a vulnerable outpost, they were met by hundreds of pre-placed explosive tags. This was the result of Konoha's Academy education; even though these kids were just Genin, their technique for laying traps was second to none. The sheer volume of explosions left the elite infiltration squad scorched and battered, with several sustaining injuries.
"Konoha uses explosive tags like they're free. Don't they worry about blowing up their own people?"
"Wait, look at those iron crates. There are traces of documents being burned."
"The outpost was real," a Stone shinobi said excitedly, "but we're too late. They've already pulled out."
War is a game of feints. While it was common to encounter such frustrations while clearing outposts, the mood among the squad was complex. They were relieved they didn't have to face those "wealthy mad dogs" of Konoha head-on, yet disappointed to have wasted such a prime opportunity for a breakthrough.
Historically, the Stone and Cloud had both traded blows with Konoha, and everyone knew everyone's moves. They remembered when the Second Hokage fell to the Gold and Silver Brothers. They knew Konoha was rich, but the current level of "spending" was unprecedented.
Konoha's morale was unnervingly high. Even when faced with overwhelming odds, Konoha shinobi were choosing to go out in a blaze of glory, taking their enemies with them. It baffled the opposition—why was their spirit so unbreakable?
The answer, of course, was Hiruko—the man who spent money like water. Not only had he given them a fortune before they left, but he had solemnly promised an even more staggering pension for their families should they fall.
The combined squad, usually so disciplined, finally allowed their nerves to slacken slightly as they rested their weary bodies.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. The faces of the two Kages present turned grim. A short old man with fire burning in his eyes let out a long, weary sigh.
"I know this cautious, turtle-shell tactic all too well," Onoki muttered. "This is definitely the Third Hokage's handiwork."
"Set up a temporary perimeter. Have the scouts check if there's anything left we can use. Everyone is exhausted... let's rest for a moment."
"Yes, Lord Tsuchikage!"
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