A violet flare hissed into the sky, signaling a bitter retreat. From the ships, the commanders watched their elite forces crumble.
"Withdraw! Back to the ships!"
The remaining invaders scrambled toward the surf, abandoning the mission.
Kiri ghosts and Kumo warriors fled in a panic.
Yoichi stood at the edge of the precipice, watching the vessels flee. Blood streamed down the ridge, soaking the earth into a thick, rusted mire.
Severed limbs and torsos piled high, resembling the discarded scraps of a butcher shop.
The drifting mist carried a heavy, metallic stench that caught in the throat and forced the lungs to heave.
It was a landscape of raw meat and cooling iron.
"What a waste..." Jiraiya sighed, wiping blood from his forehead.
"All this for a village they couldn't even touch."
"Save some of that heat for later, Yoichi," she murmured, her thumb tracing the edge of his collar. "You're still wound up like you're looking for more heads to crack."
Yoichi felt her warmth cut through his cold focus.
"The harvest was sufficient," he replied, his expression softening for her.
Orochimaru cleaned his pale hands with a cloth.
"A catastrophic result for them," he hissed. "They came for a siege and found a slaughterhouse."
As Orochimaru foretold, the invasion collapsed into a glaring disaster. Countless Genin and Chūnin lay wiped out across the slopes.
Many bore only bruises from the initial clashes, but their fragile bodies shattered under the raw impact the four defenders delivered.
A few Jōnin were also erased from the equation.
They had fought with desperate skill, forcing the Sannin to consume True Qi Pills to maintain their energy during the skirmish.
Their efforts remained valiant but ultimately futile.
Soon enough, the butcher shop was closed and the price of entry had been total annihilation.
"Let's head back..."
As Yoichi turned around, his senses sharpened by the bountiful harvest of souls, spiked suddenly.
He detected mysterious energies pulsing from the distant horizon, far beyond the reach of any sensory jutsu.
In the skies, the atmosphere fractured.
A fiery phoenix and an Ice Luan materialized, their wings spanning the heavens. Beside them, a pale but handsome guy stood upon a shimmering blade, radiating a terrifying, overwhelming intent that crushed the air.
Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru froze.
This wasn't the familiar pull of Chakra.
It was Qi—vast, ancient, and otherworldly.
Murakami Clan! Yoichi tightened his grip, the realization hitting him like a physical blow.
"What is that?" Tsunade asked, her voice trembling as she stared at the celestial phenomena.
"Let's go!" Yoichi replied with haste. He didn't wait to explain, his silhouette already blurring toward the village.
...
...
...
In the heart of Uzushiogakure, Ashina Uzumaki stood at the center of a massive sealing array.
His elite team channeled chakra into the ground, reinforcing the shimmering dome that groaned under the weight of Suna and Iwa's bombardment.
Explosions rattled the village foundations, but the barrier held firm.
A scout blurred into the chamber, panting. "Lord Ashina! Yoichi and his team successfully expelled the invaders on the northwestern ridge! The Kumo and Kiri forces are in full retreat!"
Ashina's eyes widened. Incredible. To break two village armies with only four people... Yoichi's combat prowess has reached a level I can barely fathom.
Despite the news, Ashina's shoulders slumped.
"Where the hell is the Murakami Clan?"
He thought that the Murakami Clan would be punctual and adhere their promise. Yet, there's not even a hint of their presence in the village.
Outside the barrier, the Suna and Iwa commanders laughed. Their voices, amplified by wind jutsu, carried a disdainful mockery into the streets.
"Open the barrier and surrender, Uzumaki! Your seals won't save you from a slow death. Come out and beg!"
"You'll have to step on my body first!"
Ashina roared back, his hands trembling with the effort of the seal. With the help of his team, this defense might last longer than expected.
But the question is, for how too long can they persist amidst the volley of multiple assaults?
"Sorry we're late," a calm voice echoed.
Ashina turned to see Ryoma, Natsumi, and Sumiko approaching.
"It's my fault for our late attendance," Ryoma said, his voice carrying a strange frequency.
As he spoke, his body began to distort.
His skin shimmered with a pale light, and his presence expanded into that of a Sword Immortal.
A terrifying sword intent radiated from him, slicing the very air.
Beside him, Sumiko's Qi converged into a freezing mist, coalescing into the crystalline form of an Ice Luan. Natsumi's energy ignited, her body dissolving into the roaring heat of a Fiery Phoenix.
The three soared into the skies, their mythical forms dwarfing the village buildings.
The bystanders froze, their mouths agape at a display of force completely unheard of in the shinobi world.
"What... what is this?"
Ashina blinked, his face turning pale as the barrier reflected the glow of the phoenix.
Ryoma hovered in the air, his spirit sword humming with an ancient resonance. He looked toward Natsumi and Sumiko, ignoring the army below.
"You two took long enough to gather your Qi."
"Maybe if you hadn't stopped to sharpen your 'intent' at every stream, we would have been here sooner," Sumiko scoffed.
"Less talking, more burning," Natsumi interrupted.
The Suna and Iwa forces below panicked, frantically weaving hand signs.
Earth Release: Mountain Wall!
Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!
The counter-attack was devastating.
Ryoma swung his hand downward.
A vertical pillar of sword Qi sliced through the air, bypassing the ninjutsu defenses. The strike carved a massive, miles-long ridge into the terrain, splitting the earth and the shinobi standing upon it.
A fiery phoenix followed in, becoming a streak of solar fire that slammed into the Suna ranks.
The screams of the invaders were silenced by the roaring heat.
Lastly, an Ice Luan opened its beak, unleashing a concentrated beam of absolute zero energy.
The icy breath swept across the remaining Iwa battalion.
The beam transformed hundreds of shinobi into frozen ice sculptures, their terrified expressions preserved in crystalline tombs.
Ashina watched from the barrier, his heart racing.
He had seen the power of the Five Kage, but this was different. This was the raw, unbridled power of the Murakami bloodline.
The three mythical figures descended, their radiant forms blurring as the Qi retracted into their bodies.
Ashina sprinted toward them.
The devastation was an eye-opener; where an army had stood moments ago, only a glass-burned trench and frozen statues remained.
"What is that power?" Ashina gasped, his voice shaking with a mix of terror and profound admiration. "May I know what power that is, Lord Ryoma?"
"It was Martial Arts," he replied simply.
Ashina froze.
Martial Arts? You mean...
His mind flashed to the brutal, physical practice Yoichi distributed throughout Konohagakure.
"Yes, that child's techniques," Ryoma interrupted, sensing the old man's confusion.
How can that be? Isn't that brat's style limited to physicality? How does a fist become a mythical beast or a terrifying sword attack like this?!
"Speaking of the devil," Ryoma said, tilting his head toward the northwestern path.
"Here he comes."
Yoichi emerged from the drifting mist, his casual coat stained with the blood of the previous battle.
Tsunade and the Sannin trailed behind him, their faces masks of disbelief as they surveyed the freshly altered landscape.
Yoichi didn't speak. He merely stared at the three mysterious guests, his eyes narrowing as he measured the lingering Qi in the atmosphere.
"Who am I... really?"
The question hung heavy in the air.
He searched Ryoma's face for a flicker of recognition, but the man's expression remained a wall of stone.
Ryoma ignored the plea.
He turned his back and looked toward the horizon.
"We're leaving now..."
Ashina stepped forward, hands raised in a gesture of hospitality. "Can you rest here? I never paid a proper appreciation for your service, Lord Ryoma. Please, allow us to host you."
"We don't have much time," Ryoma replied.
He did not look back at the village leader.
His focus stayed on the path ahead.
"Answer me!" Yoichi shouted, his voice cracking the silence. "You can't leave after showing me that! Tell me what I am!"
Ryoma paused, glancing over his shoulder with a cold, piercing gaze. "You are not in a position to ask. Not yet. We will meet soon... Once you are awakened."
Yoichi stood skeptical, his jaw tight.
Before he could move, Ryoma, Natsumi, and Sumiko faded away like wisps of smoke.
"Wait!"
Yoichi yelled, reaching into the empty space.
Howeher, his hand grasped at nothing.
He slammed his fist into the air. "Damn it!"
The silence of the empty space stung more than the battle's heat. A gnawing frustration took root in his chest, twisting like a serrated blade in an open wound.
He felt the weight of his own power, the same power Ryoma had called "weird," now feeling like a heavy, locked cage. Fate felt less like a path and more like a cruel spectator toying with his life.
Every answer he gained only pulled the horizon further away, leaving him stranded in a reality he no longer recognized.
He was a weapon that didn't know its own origin, a shadow chasing a sun that refused to shine on him.
The mystery of the Murakami Clan felt like a deliberate insult, a door slammed in his face just as he glimpsed the light behind it.
"Fuck!"
He was alone in his fury, a creature of the earth staring at the sky where gods had just walked.
Ashina and Tsunade moved toward Yoichi.
Tsunade wrapped her arms around his torso, holding him firmly to prevent another outburst.
Ashina stepped to his side and placed a heavy, weathered hand on his shoulder.
The elder felt compelled to soothe the youth's mind despite the mystery of their connection.
He squeezed Yoichi's shoulder, offering a grounding weight.
"Steady yourself..." Ashina advised, his voice a low rumble. "Do not let their parting dull your senses."
Yoichi felt Tsunade's warmth and Ashina's steadying pressure. He took a ragged breath as the metallic scent of the battlefield finally cleared.
"I apologize for my conduct," Yoichi muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion. He looked at the scorched earth, his anger replaced by a dull ache.
Ashina shook his head, his hand still firm on the youth's shoulder. "Think nothing of it. Even the strongest steel bends under enough heat."
Yoichi nodded silently. He leaned into Tsunade for support as she guided him toward the village gates.
They walked toward their quarters in a weary silence, their shadows stretching long over the debris.
Jiraiya and Orochimaru followed a few paces behind, unusually quiet.
The two had never seen such a violent disposition from their friend. The raw fury had been unsettling, a stark contrast to the Yoichi they knew.
They exchanged a brief, knowing glance but offered no consolation.
They understood that some things needed silence.
Only time could solve the problem burning inside him.
The team reached their quarters and collapsed into a heavy, well-earned rest. With the enemies quelled and the village safe, the adrenaline finally died.
For now, the war was over, even if the mystery had only just begun.
_______________
I feel like being shit at adding mysticism in my writing... This feels sucks ass.