Due to a shortage of medical-nin in the village, most Suna shinobi who were injured—and still able to fight—were immediately sent back to the battlefield. Those too badly wounded could only rest in the infirmary tents until they recovered.
Thankfully, the Second Kazekage, a pragmatic leader familiar with how stretched Suna's manpower was, had pioneered the art of puppet jutsu. Without it, the sheer disparity in numbers would've meant a crushing defeat for Suna long ago.
It could be said that poison and puppetry—the twin pillars of Sunagakure's secret arts—were the only things keeping the sky from collapsing over the village.
Puppet jutsu in particular had proven incredibly versatile, even outside of combat. It had become indispensable in Suna's operations—especially in extracting and refining gold from deposits across the Land of Wind.
Refining gold wasn't especially difficult work. It didn't require much chakra control or specialized training. As long as everyone met their daily quota, they were considered to have done their part.
Compared to war, it was almost easy.
That said, Kumogakure hadn't eased its offensive just because Suna was busy refining gold. Every morning, like clockwork, shinobi from both sides assembled at the front lines. Then, with a single battle cry, they clashed in brutal close combat. There were no rousing speeches, no stirring war drums—just cold steel and survival instinct.
After all, shinobi battles were too chaotic, too unpredictable. Even in open warfare, adaptability was the first rule of engagement.
Of course, that was just in the early stages. Eventually, the battles escalated into all-out slugfests—like giant puppets smashing head-on with no regard for finesse. At that point, tactics barely mattered. You either overpowered your opponent or became another corpse on the sand.
A "proper" shinobi? No one was wasting time weaving hand seals anymore.
Well, not yet anyway. Right now, they were still in that early phase, where a shinobi was only considered serious if they were weaving seals. Hand signs were still the standard.
And so, even with the help of poison and puppets, Suna wasn't winning. Every day was a grueling grind to hold the border. There were no victories. No decisive defeats. Just relentless pressure. The morale among the troops had begun to wane.
Especially as more and more Suna shinobi were crippled—limbs lost, bodies broken. Some would never return to the battlefield. With every loss, the village's fighting strength continued to erode.
In the Land of Wind—just off the front lines—
Rasa felt utterly drained.
He took a long drink from a jug of pure water, carefully stored by Kana, then headed toward the refinery at the back of camp.
Gold refining required both fire and water, which made the entire area even hotter than the front lines.
The water usage alone was staggering. The small gold refining team consumed more water per day than the front-line shinobi.
Kana had been working herself to the bone.
After Chiyo, her teacher, had left for a classified mission, she'd been left to manage the work on her own. Technically, Chiyo seemed willing to accept Kana as part of Suna, but the girl was still being watched closely.
Still, Rasa was the one in charge here now.
So even if her workload had doubled, at least she had a bit more freedom of movement.
Since she was technically Chiyo's disciple—even if she'd only been taught basic medical knowledge—she was still expected to act as a medical-nin: treating wounds, bandaging the injured, supporting the war effort however she could.
According to her, she'd improved her medical ninjutsu quite a bit lately—thanks to all the hands-on practice with wounded shinobi.
Everyone had their hands full.
Rasa glanced toward the edge of camp, where Yashamaru was resting after sustaining a minor injury. Despite it, the boy insisted on continuing to contribute however he could. He still wanted to serve the village.
"Let's all push a little harder today—try to refine a bit more gold," Yashamaru called out.
He had his shirt off, sun-darkened skin gleaming with sweat. Between the heat of the desert and the demanding labor of gold refinement, he'd shed the delicate appearance he'd had when he first arrived. Surrounded by rough, hardened men, he had grown visibly stronger—he was starting to look like a proper man.
Rasa nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched the boy.
Karura… I've turned your brother into a real man.
After a few days of grinding through refinery tasks, Yashamaru had fully mastered the basic workflow. And with Rasa—his nominal brother-in-law—watching his back, he'd slowly earned the respect of the other Suna shinobi. They followed his lead without complaint.
War really was the fastest way for a boy to become a man.
He wasn't that timid kid with the headscarf anymore. Now he was bare-chested, covered in soot, grinding through hard labor like a seasoned shinobi.
Still, once his injuries healed, he'd likely be sent back to the front lines.
Suna needed every fighter it could get.
As Rasa stood there thinking…
"Rasa-nii!" Yashamaru jogged over, wiping sweat from his brow with the towel around his neck. He shook his light blond hair free of sweat and gave Rasa a bright smile. "Things wrapped up on Kumo's side too?"
"Well done," Rasa replied, smiling as he patted Yashamaru on the shoulder. His gaze lingered on the boy's now-toned frame. "Looks like you've been working hard."
"Of course! What you said the other day really opened my eyes. We're not just shinobi of Sunagakure."
Yashamaru looked serious now. He took a deep breath, and something radiant flickered across his expression—something so pure it almost made Rasa squint.
It was the light of every hardworking laborer, every uncelebrated shinobi keeping the village alive.
He clenched his fist.
"I used to think refining gold was beneath us—as if it didn't count as a shinobi's duty. But I was wrong. Whether it's refining gold or fighting on the battlefield, it's all for Suna. Even you, Rasa-nii—the next Kazekage—are working here in the refinery. So why shouldn't us 'injured' contribute too?!"
He raised his fist again, breathing deep.
"Why shouldn't we help?!"
"…"
Rasa stared in silence.
Did… did he get heatstroke?
No—wait. Had he gone too far with the speeches?
What if Karura saw her brother acting like this—wide-eyed, ranting about duty and labor with fire in his eyes? Would she blame him?
Rasa let out a soft sigh, shook his head, and placed a hand on Yashamaru's shoulder.
"You've grown, Yashamaru."
"It's all thanks to you, Rasa-nii!" Yashamaru said earnestly. "Without your guidance, I wouldn't be who I am today."
"No, no. That was all you." Rasa quickly shook his head, his tone turning firm. "A mentor can open the door, but the path after that—you walked it yourself. You earned the others' respect through your own strength and work ethic. In you, I see the perseverance and grit that defines Suna. You're the real deal—a true shinobi of Sunagakure."
(What the hell am I saying? This has nothing to do with me.)
"Remember this: I just lit the way. You're the one who walked it."
As soon as he finished, Yashamaru's eyes lit up with emotion.
"Rasa-nii!"
He looked at him like he was the hero of a lifetime.
PS: Read Advance Chapters at https://www.patreon.com/c/ReadJin