dhibooks Chapter 533 Storms
Chapter 533 Storms
The Kazekage's command was like a boulder, stirring up invisible ripples in the sky above Sunagakure that were enough to make the air tremble.
A somber atmosphere replaced the oppression and gloom of the defeat, spreading rapidly like a virus to every corner of the village.
There were no more public lamentations or private complaints; instead, there was a resolute determination that had been suppressed to the extreme and was on the verge of exploding.
Teams of ninjas silently assembled at the rendezvous point, checking their ninja tools, filling their water bottles, and covering their mouths and noses with headscarves, revealing only pairs of sharp and indifferent eyes honed by the wind and sand.
At a gathering point near the edge of the village, sand and dust swirled as dozens of ninjas lined up.
A battle-hardened Jonin with a scarred face was holding a scroll and announcing mission assignments in his voice, roughened by the wind and sand.
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried far on the wind, clearly reaching everyone's ears.
"...Team 10, responsible for the Scorching Stone Forest area, depart immediately!"
"yes!"
"...The twelfth team, reinforce the eastern outpost, and strengthen surveillance of the border trade routes!"
"yes!"
Upon receiving the order, squads of ninjas turned around without hesitation, transforming into streaks of earthen yellow shadows as they rushed to their respective defense zones and disappeared into the vast sea of sand.
The scarred ninja's gaze swept over the remaining team, finally settling on a young face.
"Fujita!"
"exist!"
A young ninja in his early twenties immediately stepped forward from the ranks, his posture upright and his voice loud.
His face still retained a hint of childishness, but his dark eyes burned with a determination and stubbornness beyond his years.
His name is Fujita, and he is one of the few young ninjas who were able to return intact from the battlefield on the border of the Land of Lightning in the fierce war that ended not long ago.
That war was a nightmare he could never wake up from.
Having lost his comrades-in-arms, he also witnessed firsthand the despair-inducing new generation of power in Konoha.
He would never forget how, on that battlefield filled with the smoke of gunpowder, that blond-haired youth, in the blink of an eye, easily tore apart the Iwa ninja's proud defensive line with an elusive golden flash.
Minato Namikaze—this name has become an insurmountable shadow in the hearts of all the Sand Village ninja who experienced that war.
He also saw it.
On the edge of the chaotic battlefield, a young man with long silver hair, even younger than him, wielded a short knife that flashed with dazzling lightning. With each swing, he was as swift as cutting through tofu, silently reaping lives.
Kakashi Hatake.
These figures and these names, like burning brand, are deeply etched into Fujita's soul.
That was fear, powerlessness, and unspeakable humiliation.
But at the same time, it is also the goal he is desperately trying to grasp and surpass as he stands here.
After returning to the village, he devoted himself almost frantically to cultivation.
He repeatedly recalled every detail of the battlefield and analyzed the fighting style of the Konoha ninjas, transforming all his sorrow and fear into fuel to improve his strength.
The effort was not in vain.
He quickly rose from an ordinary Chunin to a squad leader, thanks to his experience in war and his outstanding strength.
"Fujita, you will lead the 11th Patrol Team and be responsible for the Weeping Dunes area."
The scarred ninja's voice pulled him back from his brief reverie.
"yes!"
Fujita answered loudly without the slightest hesitation.
Although he knew what the Weeping Dunes were.
It was an extremely remote and desolate area located on the northernmost edge of the Land of Wind.
The place gets its name from the constant winds that blow across the rolling sand dunes, creating a mournful sound that resembles the endless weeping of countless souls.
Due to its remote location and scarcity of resources, it has always been a weak link in the border defense of Sunagakure.
Fujita led his dozen or so men and silently received their supplies—compressed biscuits, military rations, and most importantly, a huge gourd filled with water.
The group set off for the Weeping Dunes.
The boundless desert reflected a blinding light under the midday sun.
The heatwave distorted the air, making distant objects appear blurry.
The marching column was deathly silent, with only the rustling of feet on the sand and heavy breathing.
Finally, a younger-looking, somewhat impatient team member approached Fujita and whispered a complaint:
"Captain... why are we going to that godforsaken place? I heard the Konoha delegation is coming to our village soon, and didn't the Kazekage give an order to kill them all? Shouldn't the real battle be taking place near the village? What's the point of us patrolling here?"
Fujita abruptly stopped and turned around to give him a stern look.
The team member shuddered under his gaze and immediately shut his mouth.
"idiot!"
Fujita snapped, his voice laced with suppressed anger, "What do you think war is? Is it just setting up battle lines at the village entrance and having a big, dramatic fight with the enemy?"
He raised his hand and pointed to the blurry border in the distance.
"It's precisely because it's remote that we need to be even more vigilant! Do you think the ninjas of Konoha are fools? Their specialty is infiltration! They strike you fatally from the most unexpected place!"
"Our mission isn't to be heroes, it's to be the village's first eyes! The moment the enemy sets foot on our land, spot them, and then... relay the message back! Understand?"
The reprimanded team members were so intimidated by the cold aura emanating from Fujita that they dared not say another word and could only nod repeatedly.
Fujita ignored him, turned around, and continued walking forward.
He looked at the boundless desert shrouded in heat ahead, and his right hand subconsciously reached for the kunai pouch at his waist. The cold touch calmed his chaotic thoughts slightly.
A voice echoed repeatedly in his heart.
If... if we encounter Konoha ninjas again...
He would never again be like he was on the battlefield, unable to even catch a glimpse of the enemy and forced to watch helplessly as his comrades fell.
He wanted them to know that the sand in Sunagakure was scalding hot.
It will burn the feet of anyone who dares to step on it recklessly.
……
After a long and arduous half-day march, as the sky was dyed a magnificent orange-red by the setting sun, Fujita's squad finally arrived at their destination—the Weeping Dunes.
The afterglow of the setting sun spilled onto the endless sand dunes, turning the originally yellowish sand grains into an eerie dark red, like congealed blood.
The piercing wind howled from all directions, sometimes high, sometimes low, sometimes like a woman's sobs, sometimes like a baby's cries, drilling into everyone's ears and sending chills down their spines.
"Is this...this is it?"
One of the team members swallowed hard and nervously looked around.
"Set up camp!"
Fujita didn't answer, but coldly issued the order, "Two people per group, immediately set up warning traps around the area. I want to see a complete defensive perimeter before nightfall!"
"yes!"
Fujita himself leaped up the highest sand dune in a few bounds.
He crouched down, took out a monocular telescope from his ninja tool bag, and began to meticulously observe the surrounding terrain.
The dark red sand dunes stretch endlessly to the horizon, merging with the dusky yellow skyline.
The wind still howled mournfully, like countless vengeful spirits whispering in my ear.
Fujita's gaze swept across the horizon inch by inch, not missing a single suspicious trace.
The experienced team members immediately and skillfully began setting up the camp, while a sensory ninja swiftly leaped onto the highest nearby sand dune to begin guarding the area.
"Phew~"
Fujita walked to a sheltered sand dune, took out his water pouch, took a small sip, and moistened his chapped lips.
He looked up at the horizon, where the huge red sunset was slowly sinking below the horizon.
On the battlefield, the blond man's ninjutsu was called Rasengan, a blue ball of light that concentrated ultimate power.
At this moment, the setting sun on the horizon resembled a giant, dying fireball.
"team leader."
A team member came over and handed him a hard, dry ration.
"Thanks."
Fujita took it, put it in his mouth expressionlessly, and chewed it vigorously. The taste was dry and astringent, with a sandy smell.
"Captain, do you think... the people from Konoha will really come?" The team member hesitated for a moment before asking in a low voice.
Fujita paused his chewing for a moment.
He did not answer.
They simply turned their gaze to the distant east, where the horizon led to the Land of Fire.
Are you coming?
They will definitely come.
Fujita swallowed the last bit of ration pill mixed with saliva, a cold determination rising from the bottom of his heart.