Chapter 69

"Are you kidding? After the recent losses, we'll only rest at the end of the war!" the guy grimaced.

Well, maybe he's exaggerating, but it's quite possible. Then I'll be stuck here not for a year, as I had planned, but for a much longer time. Damn, I don't want to leave Saya alone for such a long period.

"By the way, where have they assigned you?" my cousin asked after a brief silence.

"I still don't know. We arrived only today, but I don't think it's to the main camp—we have a team balanced in all shinobi skills, so they might send us where manpower is most needed and a good medic is constantly required."

"Most likely, we're facing the most losses at support points and patrols right now, so be careful—always expect attacks from underground and move predominantly through the trees," Shika advised. "That's exactly how they caught us—excellent camouflage of those on the surface and an unexpected attack from below."

"Got it. How are the losses overall?"

"Almost every day someone gets grazed or killed. They're afraid to attack the main camp after the last time with large forces, but small groups are constantly stinging, just like we do to them."

Damn, in such an environment, my sensor skills will definitely come in handy.

"Dreadful!" I shuddered, glancing at the darkening sky and deciding to wrap up the conversation. "Alright, I'm going to rest. Say hi to the guys for me."

"Yeah, I usually hang around near the hospital or in the barracks, so if they assign me here, find me," Shikaku lazily nodded, waving goodbye.

Watching him slowly shuffle towards the rough structures, almost scraping the ground with his feet, I shook my head. My cousin had changed a lot over this time, and even the lazy expression on his face had worn off, sometimes replaced by fatigue and complete indifference in his gaze. Like Linli, but not to that extent. And he hasn't been fighting as long as Senju. Damn, will the war affect me like this too?

Considering how medics get used to blood, injuries, and corpses, I'll rely on professional immunity. Unfortunately, I've had hopeless patients too, but I prefer not to think about them or even remember, rejoicing in the large number of hopeless cases (for less experienced colleagues) scratched out of the clutches of death.

Sighing, I shook my head and headed towards the tent provided for us—while there's a chance, it's important to rest well in safety. After receiving an assignment, such luxury will have to be forgotten for a long time.

The next morning, Sensei woke us up with the sunrise and handed us a scroll with directions.

"You're being sent with two other teams to a small outpost that recently lost half of its staff in an unexpected attack," she explained in response to our questioning looks. "I've been assigned to the second camp, so this is likely the last time we'll see each other for quite a while. Try not to die and always stick together."

"And you too, Sensei," I replied for everyone.

"You can count on that," the girl weakly smiled. "Meet in half an hour at the western wall, so hurry up with breakfast and getting ready."

After saying goodbye to Kanade, we quickly wolfed down the already despised field rations, washing them down with water from our flasks, and gathered our gear, unpacked the previous evening. As a result, we approached the western wall of the camp even a few minutes earlier, immediately noticing six shinobi. Apparently, those are the two teams that are supposed to go with us.

With a practiced glance, I immediately identified among the four shinobi and two kunoichi a Uchiha girl, protecting her left side. Clearly, the wound isn't fully healed. And they send such ones to the front? Something's not right here. Another notable feature among the assembled teams is the overwhelming majority of clan members—among us, only Rotaro and one other guy are ordinary, while the rest all have clan insignia.

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