The morning sun rose blood-red over the frontlines. The previous day's deployment orders still echoed through the camp—Konoha's forces moving into position, supply lines opening, and young shinobi stepping onto a real battlefield for the first time. Shanks and Minato had spent the night marching with their assigned squad, escorting provisions toward the forward outpost.
But before the convoy reached its destination, the war found them first.
As the Konoha column advanced through a narrow valley, the mountains began to tremble. Smoke signals bloomed on the ridges. Whistles cut through the air. The ground itself seemed to react as dozens—no, over a hundred—enemy chakra signatures flared to life.
"AMBUSH! Iwa forces incoming!"
Explosions tore through the right-side cliffs, sending boulders crashing down as Iwa shinobi surged from both sides in coordinated waves. Kunai and shuriken rained like metal hail.
Konoha's first instinct was panic. Formations broke, supplies toppled, and younger genin froze under the pressure of real killing intent.
And then—
A crushing wave of spiritual pressure exploded outward from the center of the Konoha ranks.
Dozens of Iwa shinobi charging forward stopped mid-step, eyes going wide in disbelief.
Some screamed.
Many simply collapsed, unconscious before they hit the ground.
The air itself shook.
Standing at the front, red hair billowing like a war flag, was Shanks. His single eye glowed with a predatory sharpness, his expression calm yet terrifying.
Konohagakure's shinobi, even veterans, trembled.
"W-What is this…?" a jonin muttered. "Is this… chakra pressure?"
But it wasn't chakra—Shanks knew it. This was something deeper, something primal. It surged outward like an invisible tidal wave, crushing morale and will across the field.
Every weaker Iwa ninja dropped instantly. The mid-tier and stronger ones staggered, clutching their heads, vision spinning.
Minato landed beside him in a flicker of light.
"You're really letting loose today."
Shanks didn't take his eyes off the battlefield.
"It's either them… or our people."
Another surge pulsed—stronger.
More Iwa shinobi hit the ground, unconscious, breaking entire formations. Their carefully synchronized assault began to collapse like a building losing its supports.
Iwa commanders shouted orders, panicking:
"Spread out!"
"Don't look at him directly!"
"Focus on the others!"
"RETREAT IF YOU MUST—JUST STOP HIM!"
But Shanks stepped forward, each footfall making the ground crack, his presence radiating like a demon king descending on the battlefield.
A Different Kind of War
Minato, meanwhile, vanished into afterimages— kunai flying, seals marked, enemies falling before they even understood what hit them. His speed cut holes through the front lines, allowing Konoha shinobi to reorganize.
But even Minato wasn't the true reason the tide shifted.
It was Shanks.
His Conqueror's Haki spread across the valley in a suffocating blanket.
Instead of Konoha's forces being overwhelmed by the ambush, the entire battle shifted in an instant. Iwa's forward assault—carefully prepared and perfectly timed—collapsed the moment Shanks' overwhelming presence descended onto the valley. More than half of their vanguard dropped unconscious before even reaching striking distance, and those who remained standing found their morale shattered. The shinobi who were supposed to press the advantage now struggled just to remain on their feet, unable to breathe properly under the sheer pressure crushing their spirits. Orders from their captains were lost in the chaos, communication lines fell apart, and the formation that should have enveloped Konoha instead broke into scattered pockets of confused and isolated fighters desperately trying to regroup. What was meant to be a decisive, lethal opening strike had turned into a panicked scramble for survival—all because one man was standing in their way.
The remaining jonin found themselves isolated
One Konoha chunin stared in shock.
"I… I thought we were going to die when the cliffs exploded…"
Another looked at Shanks as if seeing a myth come alive.
"He just looked at them… and they fell."
Even seasoned captains realized something terrifying:
Shanks wasn't just a strong fighter.
He was an army.
A living weapon.
The Price of Power
Yet as Shanks pushed forward—tearing through front lines, his presence freezing hardened killers—he began to notice something.
The faces.
Even among Iwa shinobi, many were...
Afraid
Young
Unprepared
Some collapsed from Haki and lay trembling—not dying, just broken.
Some tried to crawl away.
Some simply dropped their weapons.
Shanks clenched his fist.
This wasn't a duel.
This wasn't a grand battlefield of honorable warriors.
It was war.
Ugly, uneven, merciless.
At one point, a young Iwa genin tried to raise a kunai, hands shaking uncontrollably under Shanks' aura. He didn't even manage to throw it before collapsing to his knees.
Shanks stopped—not because he couldn't finish the boy, but because…
This wasn't victory.
It was domination.
And somehow, it tasted bitter.
Minato landed behind him, blades clean, breathing steady.
"Shanks. The enemy is retreating."
He looked around.
The ambush force was shattered.
Konoha casualties were minimal—shockingly minimal. Where they should have lost dozens, they barely suffered scratches thanks to Shanks' overwhelming pressure.
But instead of looking triumphant…
Shanks' expression was complicated.
"So this is war," he murmured. "Not glory, not honor… just crushing whoever breaks first."
Minato gave a small nod, understanding the weight of those words despite his calm expression.
"This is only the first encounter. The next ones won't be easier."
Shanks breathed out slowly, lowering his aura. The air seemed to lighten.
Behind them, Konoha shinobi stared in awe—and just a little fear.
One whispered:
"With someone like him on our side… can we even lose?"
But Shanks didn't celebrate.
He only looked at the battlefield—at the unconscious enemies, the broken formations, the terrified soldiers—and realized something:
This wasn't the battle he imagined as a child.
This was reality.
And he had become its monster.