On the battlefield, Shane Mountain and Minato were like a pair of blazing comets cutting through a dark sky. Everywhere they passed, enemy shinobi fell like wheat before a scythe. Their unmatched coordination and overwhelming presence drew the attention of everyone around both allies and enemies alike.
From afar, Tsunade glanced in their direction while trading blows with Chiyo. A flicker of pride crossed her weary eyes. "No wonder the old man has high hopes for them. Their strength at this age… it's far beyond what we were back then."
She couldn't help but remember her own youth days filled with training, mischief, and light-hearted missions where the biggest threat was boredom, not death. Back then, they had mentors to protect them, to ensure that even when they stumbled, they wouldn't fall too hard.
But these kids… they were growing up in a different world.
The village was weaker now.
And deep down, Tsunade couldn't help blaming Jiraiya. "That idiot is never serious about anything… and Hiruzen actually handed both of them to him? Sending them to the front lines at this age what is he thinking?" she thought bitterly.
War twisted hearts faster than any poison. Let a child grow up in it, and you risk losing their light forever.
Chiyo caught Tsunade's distracted glance and smirked coldly. "What's this? Daydreaming in the middle of a fight, Tsunade? Those little ones your students, perhaps? Freshly graduated, I assume. Should I send someone to put them out of their misery?"
Tsunade's golden eyes sharpened. "Focus on me, old woman," she said icily.
Among all the shinobi in the Sand Village, Chiyo was the one she despised most. The elder's body reeked of poisons so vile that even a scratch meant days of agony, and death if luck ran out. Worst of all, Tsunade hadn't yet found a cure for them.
Meanwhile, on another stretch of the battlefield, Shane Mountain suddenly felt a sharp, focused killing intent aimed straight at him. His gaze flicked sideways, landing briefly on a white-haired man with a short sword gleaming in his hand.
"That's… the White Fang, right?" Shane thought. "Guess I'm too flashy to stay unnoticed."
He shrugged it off. Being noticed wasn't necessarily bad. In fact, it was exactly what he needed.
He admired Sakumo Hatake not just for his blade, but for the tragedy that would later befall him. If he could save that man's life someday, he would. And maybe, while he was at it, he could pick up a few sword skills of his own.
"Can't keep leeching off my other selves from different worlds forever," Shane muttered to himself. "Time I start earning my own strength. Maybe someday, I'll be the one they rely on."
A sharp hiss cut through his thoughts.
He turned just in time to dodge a stream of searing fire that grazed past his shoulder. The air shimmered, heat waves twisting the scene before him.
"Scorch Release…" he murmured.
His eyes locked onto the source a girl with dark green hair that faded to fiery orange at the tips. Her breathing was heavy, but her stance was steady.
She was young, about his age maybe freshly graduated from the academy if the Sand even had one. Her smooth skin was glistening with sweat, her hands trembling slightly from the intensity of her jutsu.
"Scorch Release, orange tips…" Shane smirked. "Yakura. No doubt about it. And damn, she's gorgeous."
Outwardly, his face turned cold as he flicked several shuriken her way.
Yakura rolled across the sand, avoiding them with graceful precision. Her brows furrowed. Something was off.
"That attack was weak… sloppy, even," she thought. "He's not fighting seriously?"
She'd been watching him for a while now. The way he fought calm, precise, deadly. Every strike before this had been lethal. But now, his shuriken seemed half-hearted, almost playful.
"He's testing me," Yakura decided. "He must have realized how dangerous my Scorch Release is and doesn't want to risk getting close until he figures out my limits. Smart he's waiting for an opening to kill me in one hit."
In her mind, the battle had become a tense psychological war.
But to Shane, she was simply another name on his list of tragedies he refused to let happen. Someday, this girl would be betrayed and killed by her own people. He didn't know how yet, but he was determined to save her when that time came.
As she watched him narrow his eyes, her heartbeat spiked.
"He's going to strike!" she panicked. Her back tensed, her palms sweating as she prepared another Scorch orb.
But instead, Shane smiled.
He tossed a single kunai.
It whistled past her ear trailing a sizzling note.
"An explosive tag?!"
Before she could react, the kunai buried itself into a dirt mound beside her.
Boom!
The explosion sent dust flying, the force knocking her backward. When she opened her eyes, she realized the dirt had conveniently fallen over her body, concealing her completely from view.
"He… he just gave me cover?" she whispered, stunned.
Her rational mind refused to believe it. "No, it has to be a mistake. Maybe he misthrew it… yes, that's it."
Still, she didn't waste the chance. Crawling free, she retreated into the dunes while Shane turned away, pretending not to notice.
Through Observation Haki a gift from another life he could sense her escaping safely. Only then did he exhale in relief.
"Not bad," he muttered. "Looks like the Sand does have a few beauties after all."
He smirked slightly. "Kushina's the only real head-turner back home… maybe Mikoto too, though she's older. Figures."
The thought barely had time to linger before another Sand ninja lunged at him. Shane turned sharply, a blue sphere swirling into life in his palm.
"Rasengan."
Boom!
The impact sent the enemy crashing backward, gouging a long trench through the sand before his motion finally stopped.
Around him, panic spread.
"What the hell was that?!"
"An A-rank technique! There's no way he's just a kid!"
"Kill him! If we take down that boy, the Leaf will lose a future powerhouse!"
Some wanted to flee. Others, driven by greed or madness, charged in with renewed fury.
Shane simply tightened his grip on the kunai and smiled, eyes cold and steady beneath the burning sky.
"Come, then," he whispered. "Let's see how many of you can walk away."
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