An hour later, Choza walked down from the mountain ridge and sat heavily beside Might Guy.
His body was also covered in blood, and many of the wounds across him had already begun to scab over.
"The count is finished."
Choza let out a long sigh before continuing, "On Konoha's side, three hundred and seventeen people died. One hundred and two are severely injured, and more than five hundred suffered light injuries."
He paused briefly.
"On Iwagakure's side, they left behind over twelve hundred corpses. Fewer than eight hundred managed to escape."
Nobody spoke after hearing that.
Twelve hundred against three hundred.
A four-to-one casualty ratio.
In any war, this would already count as a massive victory.
Yet no one inside the camp laughed.
No one cheered.
No one celebrated.
Might Guy sat quietly atop a rock while staring at the muddy ground before him.
Three hundred and seventeen people who had still been alive yesterday were now gone forever.
Some were people he knew.
Others were strangers.
But now they were all dead.
"So this isβ¦ the cruelty of warβ¦"
He unconsciously recalled scenes from the Naruto world he had known before transmigrating.
The Third Raikage standing alone against ten thousand enemies, fighting for three days and nights until he finally died from exhaustion.
Uchiha Madara facing an Allied Shinobi Force of tens of thousands by himself while standing motionless in the middle of the battlefield, waiting for attacks to come while remaining completely unharmed.
One person changing the direction of an entire war.
One person fighting an entire army.
One person cutting straight through a battlefield alone.
Might Guy once believed that was what war looked like.
He thought war meant charging alone into enemy lines while enemies surged around like endless waves before eventually collapsing beneath overwhelming strength.
The final person left standing would become the victor.
He used to believe war looked exactly like that.
But now he understood.
That was a load of bullshit war.
Real war was never one person fighting ten thousand enemies.
Real war was three hundred and seventeen corpses lying silently on the ground.
It was hundreds of wounded people crying out endlessly inside medical tents.
It was survivors sitting exhausted on rocks while trying to count how many enemies they killed, only to realize they could no longer remember.
It was curled and chipped blades.
It was cracked palms split open from endless fighting.
It was blood soaking into muddy earth until the ground became slippery beneath your feet.
It was hearing the enemy retreat horn sound while you crouched in the mud gasping desperately for air and realizing that somehow, you were still alive.
That was war.
There were no heroes here.
No one single-handedly tearing through an entire battle line.
No one standing proudly in place while enemies attacked one after another.
It was simply groups of people rolling through mud and blood together.
Slashing with swords.
Stabbing with Kunai.
Smashing with fists.
Falling down.
Standing back up.
Then falling once more.
And in the end, all of it became nothing more than a cold and merciless number.
Twelve hundred against three hundred.
Might Guy lowered his head and stared at his hands.
The skin between his thumbs and index fingers had torn apart completely, and countless cracks covered his palms. The dried blood had already darkened into a deep red that could not be wiped away anymore.
He slowly clenched his fist.
Pain immediately shot through his hand.
Even so, he did not loosen it.
Instead, he clenched tighter once more.
He needed to remember this feeling.
Because the war had only just begun.
It was far from over.
And those who survived would continue growing stronger.
He would also become stronger.
Strong enough that one day, he could change all of this.
Might Guy clenched both fists tightly before silently opening the System interface in front of him.
A translucent panel appeared before his eyes.
...
[Host: Might Guy]
[Monk Value: 0]
[Supreme Technique List]
[Muscle Tendon Change Classic (High Grade): 999 (Mastery)]
[Precept Breaking Blade (Medium Grade): 1000 (Perfection)]
[Mercy Blade (Medium Grade): 360 (Competence)]
[Golden Bell Shield (Low Grade): 899 (Mastery)]
[Great Vajra Leg (Low Grade): 1000 (Perfection)]
[Great Vajra Finger (Low Grade): 1000 (Perfection)]
...
After a single battle, the proficiency of Golden Bell Shield had increased by more than two hundred points.
Every bit of that improvement came from enduring injuries directly during combat.
Mercy Blade had risen from 0 all the way to 360.
Every point came from saving people.
He saved Genma.
He saved Ebisu.
He also saved many people whose names he never even learned.
Every single time his blade blocked an attack for someone else, the proficiency continued increasing.
One strike blocked.
Then another.
Then another.
The blade used to save people improved even faster than the blade used to kill people.
Might Guy slowly closed the System interface.
The entire camp had gradually fallen silent.
Inside some tents, quiet sobbing could still occasionally be heard.
Some wounded people lying on stretchers cried out in pain for a while before eventually falling silent.
Might Guy did not know whether they had fallen asleep or died.
Somewhere in the distance, people continued digging graves. The sound of shovels piercing earth rose rhythmically again and again through the cold air.
Might Guy slowly stood up and walked toward the medical tents.
Ebisu looked up at him.
"Where are you going?"
"To see if anyone needs help."
Might Guy stepped into the medical tent.
Inside, it was completely packed with people.
Some stared blankly upward at the ceiling with empty eyes.
Some had their eyes shut tightly.
Others already had white cloth covering their faces completely.
One Medical Ninja crouched beside a wounded person while pressing a glowing green hand against the person's chest. The healing Chakra pulsed rhythmically with each breath.
Another Medical Ninja nearby noticed Might Guy entering and raised their head.
"Are you injured?"
"Only superficial wounds."
"Then go line up over there."
"No need. I came to help."
The Medical Ninja looked at him briefly before nodding.
"If you're helping move people, there are stretchers outside."
Might Guy turned around immediately and walked back out.
He picked up a stretcher before silently walking toward the battlefield again.
Torches had already been planted all across the muddy ground, illuminating the dark brown battlefield dimly through flickering firelight.
Corpses had been arranged into several long rows.
Might Guy bent down, lifted one body onto the stretcher, then carried it back toward the camp.
The corpse faced downward, making it impossible to identify who it was.
Their clothes were completely soaked in dried blood, stiff and cold.
Might Guy carried the stretcher back.
Then he returned for another.
Then another.
And another.
Eventually, he lost count of how many trips he had made.
By the time dawn arrived, all the graves had finally been dug.
Exactly three hundred and seventeen graves.
The corpses were lowered in one by one before being arranged neatly side by side beneath the earth.
Someone stood near the graves quietly reciting something under their breath, but the voice was so low that nobody could hear the words clearly.
Might Guy stood silently behind the crowd while looking at those pale faces one by one.
Some were familiar.
Others were not.
There was one Chunin among them whom Might Guy remembered saving during the battle.
But in the end, he still died anyway.
The blood had already been cleaned from the man's face, and his eyes remained peacefully closed.
What was his name again?
Might Guy realized he did not know.
Slowly, he looked away.
The sound of shovels digging into earth rang out once more as soil fell downward, gradually burying those faces forever.
One shovel.
Then another.
Then another.
Eventually, the sun finally rose.
Its light shone across the freshly piled yellow earth, making the graves appear completely different from the dark muddy battlefield nearby.
Might Guy turned around and walked back toward the tents.
Ebisu and Genma were already standing outside waiting for him.
"Time to eat," Ebisu said softly.
Might Guy nodded quietly.
The three of them walked together toward the mess hall.
After taking several steps, Might Guy suddenly stopped and turned his head one final time toward the rows of fresh graves.
The newly piled earth remained there silently.
There were no gravestones.
No names.
Nothing at all.
Might Guy looked at them quietly for several seconds before finally turning around once more.
This time, he did not look back again.
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