Aburame: The Swarm Chapter 32 32: Large-Scale Ninja War is Chaos

Just as the seven squads stood to the side, pointedly isolating the Hyuga unit, a Konoha shinobi dressed in a Jonin flak jacket suddenly appeared in the center of the clearing. He landed with the toe of his right foot perched precisely on the ring of the central kunai.

Large patches of burn scars marred the man's face, and his exposed arms were a roadmap of battle—scarred by fire, blades, and puncture wounds. The sheer density of these grotesque marks spoke volus about the man's combat history.

"Jonin Aoyama," two middle-aged Chunin murmured, identifying him.

Aoyama Gosho was a fairly well-known Jonin in Konoha. A survivor of the previous Great War, he was a civilian ninja who possessed no clan secret arts or high-level bloodline traits. He had ascended to the rank of Jonin purely through a mastery of rock-solid fundantals, making him an idol for civilian shinobi everywhere. Naturally, after his promotion, he had learned a vast array of ninjutsu and taijutsu to shore up his weaknesses, eventually rising to the level of an elite Jonin.

"I'm here to issue your orders," Aoyama said softly. His voice was raspy and low, the result of so past throat injury. "Captains, front and center."

The Jonin pulled a map scroll from the canister on his back and spread it on the ground. The seven Chunin moved in, forming a tight circle around the map. Whether by accident or design, they squeezed the Hyuga Main House mber out of the circle. They felt a petty sense of satisfaction; you have 360-degree X-ray vision, don't you? If you can see through everything, stay out there and watch—don't crowd us.

Aoyama glanced at the group, his brow furrowing slightly at the display of pettiness, but he said nothing. He pointed to a spot on the map. "Reconnaissance has confird the location of a Suna camp here."

"Your mission is to flank and harass the Suna forces. Each squad will operate independently. Choose your own infiltration routes."

The eight ninjas took turns selecting a path, marking their chosen routes on the map. After Aoyama and the Captains morized the layout, he flicked a spark onto the scroll, igniting and destroying it.

It wasn't a seal-less ninjutsu, but a spark-tool made of flint and phosphorus—a popular gadget among ninjas who hadn't mastered Fire Style. As an elite Jonin who had risen from the bottom, Aoyama avoided using chakra whenever possible. It helped him maintain peak combat readiness and made him significantly harder for sensory ninjas to detect.

Seeing this, Tetsumaru felt a spark of realization. It seed many veterans had intuited the necessity of suppressing their chakra, though they likely viewed it as a trick learned through survival rather than understanding the physics of chakra fluctuations. If they truly understood it, they would go a step further and cease chakra refinent entirely while traveling, rather than simply suppressing the output.

A middle-aged Chunin nad Mita raised a question: "Jonin Aoyama, eight squads aren't enough to cause significant structural damage to a fortified camp. What is our actual objective?"

"Cover. You are covering a specialized strike team's assault."

"Before you move in, the main force will launch a frontal attack. You will act as the second wave of diversionary cover."

Hearing this, the seven Captains let out a collective breath of relief. The danger level of the mission had just dropped significantly.

"May we ask which senior is leading the strike team?"

Aoyama shook his head. "I don't know."

Aoyama was a veteran of the Rain theater and one of the commanders with actual authority; if he claid not to know, it ant the strike team wasn't from the local Rain theater forces. Most likely, they were coming from the village or another front.

Who could it be? Tetsumaru wondered. Konoha wasn't as desperate for talent as it would be in later years; the village was currently teeming with elite Jonin and Kage-level experts. The list of suspects was massive. There were plenty of old-tirs whose raw power could still suppress even the Third Hokage—back then, the title of "Strongest Hokage in History" hadn't been invented yet.

Take Elder Shiki, for instance. In terms of raw power, he had no reason to fear Hiruzen Sarutobi. The elders' wariness of the Hokage was rooted more in political influence and administrative maneuvering than combat prowess.

Mission briefed, Jonin Aoyama departed. The Konoha shinobi followed suit, moving out with their respective squads.

Tetsumaru led Akira and Yun at a brisk pace, weaving through the woods.

The sky grew increasingly dim—not because night was falling, but because they were entering the heart of the Land of Rain. As the first patter of drizzle began to fall, they crossed the border.

Tetsumaru, Akira, and Yun all frowned. The rainy environnt was a nightmare for Tetsumaru's insects and Wind Style, a nerf to Akira's Fire Style, and a physical ordeal for the frail Kurama Yun.

The trio donned ponchos and wide-brimd hats, transitioning to tree-hopping. It was a noisier, more dangerous way to travel, but in the Land of Rain, it was the preferred thod. The rain masked the sound of their jumps, and the ground was a deathtrap of standing water where A-nin hid venomous insects, predatory fish, and water-resistant traps. Konoha had suffered heavy losses the previous year because they hadn't respected the dangers of the Rain's terrain.

Suddenly, Tetsumaru signaled a halt. The squad froze instantly.

Tetsumaru gestured for Akira to move closer and pointed out the enemy's location. Once Akira confird the target, Tetsumaru signaled him to flank right while ordering Yun to stay on standby.

The two shed their hats and ponchos, fanning out to encircle the target.

Kurama Yun stood waiting, her breathing shallow and rhythmic to ensure she made no sound. She focused entirely on the dark forest ahead. When Tetsumaru had pointed out the targets to Akira, she had tried her hardest to see them, but had found nothing. The gap in their sensory ability left her feeling a deep sense of frustration.

Suddenly, several flashes of cold steel flickered through the trees, accompanied by a rapid series of muffled impacts. Then, silence. Two figures erged from the shadows. Uchiha Akira held a gleaming ninjato, while Tetsumaru's hands remained empty.

Tetsumaru didn't say a word, his gaze fixed intensely on Akira. Akira had just made his first kills of the mission, but his bloodlust wasn't fading—it was thickening. He looked like he was genuinely considering turning his blade on his own Captain.

The sword in Akira's hand began to tremble as the rain washed the blood from the tip. Finally, he lowered his head. "It won't happen again."

Only then did Tetsumaru turn away to put his rain gear back on.

Akira let out a breath, wiped the remaining blood from his blade with a cloth, sheathed it, and donned his poncho.

Yun watched them both, certain that sothing had gone sideways during that brief skirmish. But if they weren't talking, she wasn't going to ask. Both of them had just proven that the Captain actually had the strength—and the intent—to kill them if necessary. That was a terrifying thought.

As they resud their journey and passed through the skirmish site, Yun finally saw the enemies.

Four A-nin corpses. One had been sliced in two; the other three had shattered bones and broken tools, clearly the victims of massive, blunt-force trauma.

Based on the positioning, Yun quickly reconstructed the fight: Akira had likely tried to "accidentally" let one A-nin slip through to strike at Tetsumaru, hoping to force a mistake. Instead, the Captain had simply broken the encounter with overwhelming violence, killing three A-nin in one go.

As for the specifics? Yun decided she wasn't that curious. Akira was dangerous, but the Captain was a monster.

The rain didn't fall forever in the Land of Rain. After nightfall, the drizzle ceased.

Squad Abura reached the designated battlefield. Tetsumaru released a wide-area swarm of Kikaichu to secure the periter. Once safety was confird, the three of them hunkered down in silence, waiting for dawn.

Under the thick rain clouds, it was impossible to tell when the sun was rising, but Tetsumaru's high-altitude dragonflies caught the first light of dawn.

Ti's up.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

The main force launched their frontal assault. A tsunami of chakra fluctuations rolled across the landscape—so intense that Tetsumaru could feel his own circulation rippling in response without even using Insight.

Konoha was using Combined Ninjutsu—large-scale techniques involving dozens or hundreds of ninjas casting in unison. They were slow to cast but possessed catastrophic power and made a hell of a noise. The Suna forces retaliated with their own combined techniques.

This was the "Fortress Warfare" tactic pioneered by Iwagakure in the last war: legion-level ninjutsu directed by a central commander.

Tetsumaru hated this kind of fighting. A ninja beca just a cog in a massive machine, and the ninjutsu being traded were natural disasters on a personal scale. It was like "Line Infantry" combat with magic—both sides just stood in rows and blasted each other until one side broke.

For everyone in the ranks, survival was a roll of the dice. If you were unlucky enough to be the target of a combined strike, there was no room to struggle. Except for the Kage-level legends at the top of the food chain, individual ninjas were just statistics.

Most ninjas detested this style of war, but the reality was that when attacking a fortified camp, Combined Ninjutsu was the most effective weapon available—period.

The Suna camp was in chaos. The Suna commander was no fool and had quickly dispatched squads to secure their rear.

This was the cue for Tetsumaru and the other seven squads. Their job was to wipe out the Suna pickets and launch a second diversionary assault from the back.

Secret Technique: Insect Sphere! Fire Style: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique!

Kurama Yun didn't have a suitable combat jutsu, but the Kurama clan was filthy rich. She simply hurled ten kunai—every single one of them rigged with an explosive tag.

Around them, various other jutsu erupted as the eight squads coordinated with silent, professional efficiency, maximizing the shock of the ambush. The Suna pickets were inexperienced, their attention still fixed on the massive combined ninjutsu at their front. When the ambush hit, they were decimated in seconds.

Sensing the opening, several Konoha squads charged toward the Suna camp, intentionally mingling with the surviving Suna-nin to prevent the camp's heavy artillery from firing on them.

Unfortunately, the Suna commander was decisive to a fault. They ordered an imdiate, indiscriminate bombardnt. Suna or Konoha—it didn't matter. Anyone near the gates was marked for death.

Following the blast, the commander deployed an elite puppet brigade to establish a toxic defense periter, preventing any further infiltration. The toxicity of the gas was staggering; even Tetsumaru's specialized high-resistance Kikaichu were dropping dead in seconds.

Such a potent toxin couldn't last forever. As the mist began to thin, a massive wave of puppets charged out to engage the Konoha ninjas.

Based on the sheer quality of the toxins and the volu of the puppet force, the commanders here were undoubtedly the siblings Chiyo and Ebizo.

Just my luck, Tetsumaru thought. Stumbling into the big leagues.

The mission had started as a diversion, and while the diversion was working, the danger had spiked. If Suna realized how thin the Konoha presence was at their rear, they would likely try to break out in this direction, which ant Tetsumaru's eight squads would be steamrolled.

He had to work harder if he wanted to live. Tetsumaru wove a set of seals.

Wind Style: Wind Fist!

He slamd his fists together in front of his chest and pulled them apart, his hands now shrouded in swirling, pale-blue gales.

Tetsumaru charged into the puppet swarm. With the enhancent of the Wind Fist, every punch dealt catastrophic structural damage. Within a few exchanges, he was turning high-end puppets into scrap tal. Around him, the other Konoha squads were also erupting, launching a desperate offensive.

The Suna puppeteers soon focused their rage on the boy who was single-handedly dismantling their life's work. We hate you "breaker" types the most! Do you have any idea how much these things cost?!

Several high-ranking puppeteers directed their primary combat puppets toward Tetsumaru. However, Kikaichu he had pre-planted in the area jamd their joints, leaving the machines paralyzed. Tetsumaru didn't waste the opening; he lunged forward, smashing the frozen puppets to pieces.

Seeing their machines fail, a puppeteer shrieked: "Insects! It's an Abura! Use the gas! Flush them out!"

Every puppeteer within earshot smashed a small vial. Instantly, a pale purple mist engulfed the battlefield.

In the shinobi world, the greatest counters to a puppet brigade were the Kazekage's Iron Sand—and the Abura.

Tsunade's Monster Strength combined with her dical ninjutsu was also a nightmare (one punch per puppet, total immunity to poison), but the Abura were more insidious. Kikaichu could crawl into the internal chanisms to jam joints or chew through the invisible chakra threads, leaving a puppeteer helpless. It was a more infuriating counter than even the Iron Sand.

After suffering at the hands of the Abura, Suna had developed specialized "Anti-Insect" toxins. The poison was incredibly effective, but it was exorbitantly expensive—only elite puppeteers carried a reserve of it as a final trump card.

Tetsumaru knew this poison well; he'd lost tens of thousands of bugs to it in previous skirmishes. The mont the vials broke, he recalled all his Kikaichu and sealed his hive ports.

With the bugs gone, the puppeteers began hunting for the Abura, but they couldn't find him. Even though Tetsumaru was wearing a trench coat and sunglasses, his combat style—brutally smashing puppets apart in the front lines—didn't match the "creepy guy hiding in the shadows" stereotype of his clan. The puppeteers simply didn't recognize him.

While Tetsumaru rampaged in the front, Akira used Fire Style to suppress the Suna shinobi, and Yun used her Genjutsu to confuse and disorient the enemy, creating openings for her teammates.

Over a hundred ninjas were locked in a chaotic lee outside the camp walls. As more Suna reinforcents arrived, the Konoha squads began to lose ground.

Tetsumaru was considering an early retreat. He hated these kinds of brawls—the biggest threat wasn't the man in front of you, but the random explosive tags flying in from every direction. Expensive tools and specialized weapons were being hurled like trash in the madness.

Suddenly, a gargantuan explosion rocked the center of the Suna camp. A massive fireball and a localized shockwave tore through the base.

A mushroom cloud rose into the sky, the force of the blast so great it actually pushed back the rain clouds above. The rain stopped.

Cheers of victory erupted from the Konoha ranks as morale skyrocketed. The Suna-nin, conversely, stood frozen in horror.

The shock of the explosion rippled through the front lines. The Suna combined ninjutsu formations collapsed first, signaling their total defeat. The battle was decided.

But Tetsumaru's face paled. He imdiately let out a sharp whistle, signaling his squad to retreat. The other surviving Konoha Captains from the strike force were doing the sa.

All except the Hyuga unit.

Instead of retreating, the three branch mbers and their Main House Captain were locked in a heated argunt. Tetsumaru saw it and noted that his own subordinates were already running like their lives depended on it. At least they're smart.

When a massive army is defeated, they lose about thirty percent of their strength instantly. What follows is a "shattered retreat"—a chaotic, desperate flight for survival.

A single man running for his life might consider a counter-kill, but a crowd of thousands running for their lives will simply trample or kill anything in their path. There is no logic or rcy in a shattered retreat.

The most dangerous place on a battlefield after a victory is directly behind the enemy camp—right in the path of the retreating army.

Experienced ninjas know to clear the way instantly so they aren't buried by the weight of the victory. Greenhorns, however, often think a broken army is just a collection of easy kills and free rit, only to be swallowed by the stampede.

The Hyuga Main House Captain was clearly a greenhorn.

As Tetsumaru disappeared into the forest, he took one last look back. The Hyuga squad was charging straight into the path of the retreating Suna legion.

They're dead, he thought. What a waste of three good branch ninjas.