In a bizarre house—or more accurately, a smithy—the floor was covered in jutsu formulas that would seem eerie to the uninformed. Here, a lone girl continued to hammer iron.
The girl had graduated from the Academy, a peaceful place of learning that bore no trace of its past as the "Village of the Bloody Mist," 2 years ago. She briefly became a Genin but immediately retired from the path of the shinobi. Ever since, she had spent all her time like this, never once playing like others her age.
Clang! Clang!
Amidst the ear-splitting sound of iron, she heard the footsteps of someone approaching and stopped her hand.
"—I told you to stop forging swords that weren't commissioned."
"I was rummaging through Great-grandfather's library and a good idea struck me. I wanted to give it form before the inspiration faded. If a sword commission comes in, I'll just give them this. It'll cut far better than any dull blade you make, Father."
Recognizing the voice of the person approaching as her father, the girl, Kazakuro Murasame, spoke in a voice far colder than one would expect from a 15-year-old girl. She then swung the hammer in her hand down once more.
—Though, in truth, the only people who ever approached her, other than customers, were a slightly younger relative who collected swords and a timid, bespectacled boy.
Murasame's father, Kazakuro Hakuu, frowned at the jutsu formulas carved into the floor, which glowed with an eerie, pale blue light.
"...What did you do this time?"
"A mimicry of the Lightning Sword 'Kiba.' I copied my own nature transformation into a jutsu formula on the blade, turning it into a weapon that holds the power of nature transformation. Of course, I can only use Water Release, so it would be a 'Water Sword.' ...'Suitō'... hmm. The name doesn't have a great ring to it... I want something cooler."
As she spoke, gazing at the blade taking shape in her hands, her voice was no longer cold but bright and age-appropriate. Seeing his child like this, Hakuu's brow furrowed even deeper.
His daughter, Murasame, possessed a divine talent for forging swords. It was rumored she was the second coming of their ancestor, the genius swordsmith. Hearing the details of the sword his daughter was creating, Hakuu, who had deep ties to the Mist shinobi, felt a sense of apprehension.
He knew of Water Release ninjutsu that focused on the cutting power of compressed water. However, unlike jutsu that simply released water, that ninjutsu required the technique of compression and a much stronger output, placing it in the high-level category. It was not hard to imagine how dangerous it would be if she replicated such a thing in a sword, allowing anyone to use it regardless of their skill.
"There is no need to forge more swords than necessary. A battlefield is not a place that can be won simply by having a strong sword. What if that sword fell into enemy hands? You have no idea how much damage it could cause the Mist shinobi."
"I don't want to hear that from you, Father, the man who only makes dull blades. Just the other day, someone died because of one of your half-assed weapons—"
"This conversation is over!"
She stopped the hand that was swinging the hammer.
From behind her, she heard the sound of hands clapping—her father was forming hand seals.
—Water Release: Water Trumpet!
A torrent of water released by her father swallowed her up, along with the half-finished sword.
—She immediately followed the instructions her friend had taught her, changing her body into water, assimilating with the current, and letting the attack pass through her.
When her father finally stopped releasing the jutsu, what met her eyes was the forge stand and her other tools, completely destroyed and scattered by the raging stream.
"I'm closing the smithy! You are forbidden from ever holding a hammer here again!"
"...Are you serious? Father..."
"The era when this place was called the Village of the Bloody Mist is long past. No one will complain if one little smithy disappears now!"
"I see... Well, it can't be helped—but this is perfect timing. The stimulation in this village was running out, anyway. I'm leaving."
"What!?"
Seeing her father's eyes widen in disbelief at her words, she scratched her head.
"I'm going to create swords that surpass the 'Seven Swords' my great-grandfather built. —To do that, I've long been thinking I need to incorporate techniques from outside this village, unlike him."
"Don't be ridiculous! Our clan is the very definition of a top-secret asset to the Mist shinobi! If you leave the village, there's a chance you'll be killed by Hunter-nin!"
"—I know. That's why I've trained in self-defense. And I'm fully prepared to leave at any time... so I'm going now."
She pulled 2 scrolls from the pocket of her indigo jumpsuit and showed them to her father.
One contained her minimum living necessities. She returned it to her pocket, slowly opened the remaining one, and activated the summoning formula written on it.
Dozens of swords appeared with a metallic rattle. They varied in size and shape, but any connoisseur would realize they were all masterpieces; some might even be called cursed blades.
This was the majority of the collection she had secretly forged, all while being scolded by her father.
"I'll leave these for you, Father. Use them as funds until you find a replacement for the smithy—"
"Wait, Murasame!"
"Take care of yourself... Father. —Ninja Art: Hiding in Mist Jutsu."
She used one of the ninjutsu she had learned from the "gossipy types" among the Mist shinobi who visited her shop, taught to her in exchange for a discount on her blades.
It was the jutsu synonymous with the Mist's shinobi, stealing one's vision. She didn't have the skill to sever sound like Zabuza's 'Silent Killing,' and the mist's range wasn't that great, but it was more than enough to escape from her father, who wasn't a shinobi.
She transformed her body into water and dove into the waterway in front of the house—slipping out of the village, unseen by anyone.
She felt a brief pang of sentimentality at the thought of not seeing her few friends, Suigetsu, and Chōjūrō, whom she had only recently started speaking to outside of customer service. But that was overshadowed by the exhilarating high of leaving the village.
—From now on, I'll get to see countless unknown ninja tools. And I will create ninja swords that surpass them all.
Using a method of travel that left no trace, she moved from the waterway to the river and slipped out of the village, disappearing into the forest.
From now on, I—Kazakuro Murasame—will be treated as a rogue shinobi. But I don't care. It is all for the sake of surpassing the 'Seven Ninja Swords' created by my great-grandfather. For that, I would abandon anything else.
The sharpest of blades, wreathed in lightning, the Lightning Sword "Kiba."
The bluntsword that smashes any guard, "Kabutowari."
The longsword that pierces all and stitches them together, "Nuibari."
The blastsword that adds explosive power to its slashes, "Shibuki."
The unchippable decapitating carving knife that regenerates by sucking the blood of those it cuts, "Kubikiribōchō."
The twinsword that stores and releases chakra to change its shape, "Hiramekarei."
And the strongest ninja sword, a sentient blade that fuses with its wielder by devouring their chakra, Great-grandfather's ultimate masterpiece, the Greatsword "Samehada."
She swore to eclipse them all with her own blades and walked onward—only to stop. She heard the "sound of a sword" nearby.
She reflexively channeled chakra to her feet and kicked off the ground. She raced toward the sound, hiding in the bushes.
There, as expected, were shinobi. One man with a Mist forehead protector and one man with a Cloud forehead protector.
The Mist shinobi, bleeding all over and on his knees, was desperately saying, "I can't let a Cloud operative escape." It seemed the Cloud man had infiltrated the Mist Village as a spy and had been found out. But none of that mattered. The problem was the sword the Cloud man was holding.
—It's awful.
A dull blade, visibly forged from weak iron and struck with weak power.
It was several levels inferior even to the blades her father made, who himself hadn't been able to forge a proper sword since seeing her mother's body cut apart by one. Just looking at it made feelings of sadness and anger well up inside her.
But the Cloud shinobi, ignorant of her feelings, gave a sadistic smile and raised the sword in his hand to his face—and licked the flat of the blade.
Murasame pulled one of the few swords she hadn't given to her father from her scroll—a single longsword—and leaped from the bushes, slashing at the Cloud shinobi on pure impulse.
The unconscious flash of her blade was blocked by the man's sword just before it touched him.
"Reinforcements!?"
"You! Licking a sword in front of someone... How lewd! I cannot allow someone like you to hold a sword! Hand that blade over to me immediately!"
"Huh?"
"Put that sword down within 5 seconds! Or I will take it, along with both of your arms!"
"—The hell are you babbling about!? Don't get in my way, brat!"
As the man spat out his angry words, he wreathed his sword in chakra.
It seemed he had no intention of following her instructions.
The chakra around the blade transformed into lightning, enhancing its cutting power—but that didn't matter.
"—Punishment!"
This was not the thoughtless rage from his lewd act moments ago—this was a swift strike into which she poured her entire being.
The Mist shinobi doubted his eyes.
A single flash from the mysterious girl had not only severed the blade of the Cloud shinobi's lightning-wreathed sword, but had also cut off both his arms, sending blood erupting like fountains.
It was the sword technique "Iai," used only by the most skilled samurai from the Land of Iron. Her form was far less refined, and yet, the fact that she had so easily cut through a blade enhanced by Lightning Release chakra told the man just who this girl was.
Within the Village Hidden in the Mist, she was from a noble clan, rivaling even the Hozuki Clan of the Second Mizukage's bloodline, despite not being shinobi. She was the descendant of the creator of the ninja swords used by the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, Kazakuro Muramasa.
Due to the terrifying "demon blades" born from her innate talent, and her occasional bizarre behavior like this, the villagers had come to fear her, calling her "The Madwoman of the Mist," just as they did the "Demon of the Mist" and the "Ogre of the Mist."
The girl snatched the remnants of the man's sword from beside the Cloud shinobi, who had collapsed to the ground, gushing blood from his arms. She held up the blade, inspecting it from every angle as if to appraise it.
"Just as I thought, a horribly made sword... I heard that Cloud shinobi are issued blades of inferior quality because they can just amplify the cutting power with Lightning Release, but... this is too awful. To be born in such a pitiful state..."
Seeing the girl clutch the sword as if pitying a starving child, the Mist shinobi's suspicion was confirmed. "It really is... Kazakuro Murasame."
But if that was true, this situation was a critical incident.
Although most of the Seven Swordsmen's blades had already left the village, they were still Kirigakure's most important secret and top-priority retrieval targets. A descendant of their creator would likely possess knowledge unknown even to the current Mizukage.
For that reason, she and the entire Kazakuro clan were forbidden from leaving the village without an escort. He was bewildered as to why she was here all alone, and he somehow managed to force his battered body to stand.
"A-and besides... licking a sword in front of people... How indecent... Men just have no sense of decorum, or, or atmosphere..."
"H-hey? Murasame... miss?"
The girl's body trembled, the tips of her ears visible past her long, light-blue hair turning bright red. When he called out to her back, her shoulders shot up in alarm.
▼▼▼
This is terrible... After I was so careful leaving the village, to think I'd be found here...
I lost my cool over that Cloud man's sword and his actions... and I got a little lost in my own fantasy—a bad habit of mine.
I only won because that Cloud shinobi's fighting style was centered on his sword, giving me the advantage in blade quality. If he had been a ninjutsu-type, or if the fight had dragged on, I definitely would have lost. It was a reckless move in every sense.
No, none of that matters right now. The problem is the man behind me.
If he captures me and I'm taken back to the village, I won't get another chance to leave for at least 10 years—worse, if I go back now, I'll have to live with my father who has already quit the smithy, unable to even touch a sword. I'd go insane.
"...Life never goes as planned."
A complaint slipped out. But there was only one path forward. The opponent was a single, wounded shinobi.
Just a few minutes ago, I had resolved to discard anything for my goal, and that resolve hadn't wavered.
The man was slowly approaching—but luckily, my back was to him, so he couldn't see my hands.
"Water Prison Jutsu!"
"—hk!?"
A sphere of water captured the man, sealing his movements.
It was another jutsu synonymous with the Mist shinobi, alongside the Hiding in Mist Jutsu. A ninjutsu that created a prison of water that was impossible to break from the inside.
"I'm sorry... I'm leaving the village. —I'm leaving to bring the ultimate swords into this world. So—"
The girl slowly pointed the sword in her hand at the man—then slowly put it inside the water prison and handed it to him.
"Please take this as an apology. From now on, please use it... My Water Prison Jutsu will break in about 40 seconds. —...I'm sorry. Good luck."
Leaving those words behind, she immediately channeled chakra to her feet and leaped away.
That man would eventually call for reinforcements. And in the not-too-distant future, I would be put on a wanted list. I have to cross the Land of Water's border before that happens.
For this very day, I had Suigetsu and the shop's customers tell me about the areas around the village, so I've memorized the basic terrain.
Thanks to that Cloud shinobi, this departure is a mess, but there's no use regretting it now.
For now, I just have to run. Run toward the wide world where the things that will lead me, and the swords I create, to greater heights await. I will absolutely create 7 'New Ninja Swords' that will surpass my great-grandfather's ninja swords—
On this day, the girl known as "The Madwoman of the Mist" was unleashed.