"We'll be the mantis stalking the cicada—loop around and tail them from behind," Ishiki said, laying out his strategy.
With Ishiki's reliable sensory ability in play, Samui and Bunya offered no objection.
The team picked up the pace. Though the Byakugan's visual range was no secret in the shinobi world, it did have limits—typically between one and two kilometers.
To be safe, they widened the gap to about three kilometers before circling around to evade the tailing squad.
As they moved through the forest, Samui and Bunya both noticed Ishiki would occasionally brush against small woodland creatures mid-run.
"It's connected to my sensory technique," Ishiki explained simply.
Neither of them pressed him further.
In Ishiki's perception, once their tail noticed the sudden speed-up, they also accelerated. But when the distance between them reached two kilometers, the other team briefly hesitated.
That moment of pause confirmed Ishiki's hypothesis: Hyūga Miyasai's Byakugan couldn't observe past two kilometers.
The two squads reversed roles. Now, without Ishiki's group leading the path, the other squad had to improvise—clearly aware of Ishiki's possible maneuver. But the limited detection range rendered their efforts futile.
Ishiki's team trailed them from a comfortable distance, confirming that the enemy's route matched the one they had initially planned.
From there, things progressed smoothly. Three kilometers wasn't far for trained shinobi.
Their mission was to eliminate the rogue ninja squad—so letting the other team initiate contact with the enemy served Ishiki's team well.
If the enemy team was indeed acting as protectors, then they'd naturally interfere when Ishiki's group engaged—creating a pincer threat. But if they had the same goal of elimination, then Ishiki's squad could conserve energy or even let the others act as bait.
As long as the target group was destroyed, the mission provider wouldn't care who dealt the killing blow.
"Generally, if we're assigned to eliminate them, the other team's mission is probably to protect. We may need to adjust our strategy," Samui offered coolly.
"Or they could just be marauders who fled from crimes in another nation and crossed into Konoha," Bunya countered. "In that case, they might be carrying something valuable. Sticking to the plan carefully is safest."
Ishiki didn't chime in. He found these hypotheticals pointless. Their mission had a clear objective—complete it.
This entire test meant little to him anyway. Whether he passed or failed, he was guaranteed to make Jōnin before adulthood. That was already settled.
So instead, he focused on observing Samui and Bunya. He wanted to know whether these two were genuinely cooperating—or simply putting on an act for his benefit.
Perhaps his silence was too loud. The moment stretched, and both partners fell quiet. Their moving squad grew silent.
Kakashi glanced at Ishiki but said nothing. As always, he played the invisible observer.
An hour passed in this charged silence before Ishiki suddenly spoke. "Careful."
Even as the word left his lips, Samui and Bunya—who had been running beside him—suddenly acted.
But they didn't brace for defense.
They attacked.
Samui went straight for Ishiki. Her hand flashed to her lower back and drew a short blade aimed directly at his heart—a clean, killing thrust.
Bunya lunged at Kakashi, using raw, brutish taijutsu rather than any ninjutsu. Where Samui's movements were swift and precise, Bunya's were heavy and savage, like a charging grizzly.
Ishiki had reacted the moment he spoke. His warning wasn't about enemies nearby—but about what he had just sensed.
Up ahead, the other team had turned on itself. Three members simultaneously attacked the fourth.
It didn't take genius deduction: Kumo and Iwa shinobi had ganged up on the Konoha ninja.
Ishiki hadn't been warning Samui or Bunya.
He'd been warning Kakashi.
And as he gave that warning, he was already in motion.
Samui's speed was impressive, but the moment she closed in, she noticed Ishiki's eyes shift—becoming something unnatural. A bizarre, earthy brown gaze she had never seen before.
Before she could thrust, Ishiki had stepped in, seizing her wrist mid-motion.
Samui's expression twisted. She had expected Ishiki to be strong—but not this quick, this reactive.
She tried to twist the blade back into a defensive posture.
But then she saw it—on the hand clashing with her short blade, Ishiki's skin roughened, scaling like hardened stone or reptilian hide.
What kind of technique was this?
Even as the question formed, Samui felt a tug at her weapon—an invisible force pulling on it.
In midair from her leap, she had no foothold to counterbalance. Coolly, she released the blade and dropped toward the ground.
During the fall, her hands came together, forming seals.
But as she fell, she realized Ishiki hadn't pursued her.
He hadn't tossed her blade back at her like she expected.
He simply stood atop the branch, gaze lifted skyward.
That gave her a terrible feeling.
From the treeline, something moved—swift, lithe.
A Deinonychus, fangs bared, lunged toward her.
The sheer absurdity left her momentarily stunned. What the hell was that thing? Where had it come from?
But her jutsu was already complete.
The ninjutsu she had prepared for Ishiki turned on the beast.
Chakra surged through her mouth, manifesting into slicing air.
Wind Release: Vacuum Burst!
A scythe of compressed air tore toward the raptor's skull. But it moved faster than she'd imagined.
It dodged at point-blank range—almost entirely avoiding the technique.
Almost.
The edge still scraped it, but not before the raptor's claws reached Samui.