IT WASN'T LONG UNTIL Arthur finally arrived above the Land of Birds. He hovered there silently in the sky as his eyes scanned the familiar landscape.
The settlement was where he first encountered those monks upon arriving in this timeline. The place looked peaceful from above, but he knew better.
He'd been contemplating his purpose here, questioning whether meddling in this period was wise. His actions, after all, had already shaped much of what came after in his own timeline. Since that was true, then every move he made had already rippled and influenced everything that was supposed to happen.
So why was he here? Simple. He was after vengeance.
Those monks had reported him for taking their precious book. While yes, he had made the mistake of not having covered his tracks better, that did not mean that he wouldn't return for vengeance.
He thought back to the Land of Birds in his own timeline. He knew almost everything about it—its layout, its history—and there was one thing that always puzzled him. No records ever mentioned a tribe of ancestral monks or reputable clans within the Bird Country.
Not a single one.
That was strange, considering how strong those monks had been and how fiercely they guarded their secrets. How did they even come across the Legacy of Kaguya book, and why was there nothing ever mentioned from that book from his timeline?
Arthur frowned. Did they really expect him to believe that such powerful monks couldn't have fostered a clan or a hidden society that would one day rival the great ninja nations?
It was absurd. The Land of Birds never even had a shrine where the Two-Tails had once dwelled. One could assume that Hashirama had captured it before transferring the beast. But that explanation didn't sit right with Arthur.
Why would the Two-Tails have been taken from the Bird Country? Why wasn't it there now? And why were these monks so strong without any history behind them?
The answer was clear to him. Ridiculously clear. It was because Arthur Bennett had driven them all away!
That thought made his blood boil. His plans of learning more from the Land of Lightning monks had all been shattered. That meant the monks here had crossed a line. They dared to accuse him of theft? That was a mistake.
Arthur clenched his fists, feeling the power of ninshū coursing through him. He had been training with some of the strongest ancestors from this period. His body was tougher, and his control was sharper than ever.
It didn't matter whether someone from this time period knew ninjutsu or ninshū. He was beyond their reach now. The power he had accumulated was enough to crush any obstacle. No one, not even these monks, could stand against him.
Because at the end of the day, Arthur always remained unbeatable!
On the ground, a young monk in training gave a look of confusion. The air suddenly filled with a strange hissing sound like steam escaping from a valve. The boy looked around, trying to pinpoint the noise, but nothing was visible.
Then he looked up. Out of nowhere, a thick pillar of smoke and cyan-coloured mist shot downward with incredible speed.
"What's that?" the boy asked, pointing up.
The other monks, nearby, turned their heads. Their eyes slowly widened as they saw it too.
The pillar of smoke was descending rapidly, swirling and crackling with an ominous chakra. As it neared the ground, the monks saw it was not just smoke but also flashes of ice, like shards of cold light swirling within the dark vapour.
And then, with a deafening crash, Arthur burst out of the smoke!
His arrival tore through the settlement like a whirlwind. Debris and ice particles flew everywhere, filling the air with fragments. In the midst of the chaos, the monks saw it: a flash of shining metal.
Arthur's figure darted forward far too fast for anyone to make out his figure. Before anyone could react, he drove the sword into the belly of a young monk. The monk's face was frozen in shock as his body began to turn to crystalline ice.
The process was quick, but Arthur was not done.
He swung his arm and sliced the frozen monk clean in half. The ice shattered into countless shards before falling like glittering snow.
Women and children were frightened by the violence. They all started to run. The other monks, seeing these things, quickly moved to confront him. Soon he was met by three monks. They launched coordinated attacks with raised shouts.
But Arthur was already in his element.
He swirled into his smoke form and danced around them with eerie ease. Their techniques, which relied on ninshū, struck the air where he had been just moments ago, only to miss. One monk unleashed a barrage of water and earth, trying to corner him, but he simply slipped through the attack without being harmed.
Then, with a swift slash of his sword, he aimed at an unsuspecting monk. But before he could land the blow, another monk lunged forward and grabbed his wrist just in time.
"Oh..." Arthur said in amusement. His voice was calm, almost teasing-like, despite how tight the monk's grip was. "No one's ever touched me while I was in my smoke form before."
He quickly transitioned from his smoke state into solid form.
'Ice style: white whale jutsu…'
From the surrounding ice, a massive whale emerged and crashed down with force, tearing through the settlement by smashing buildings and scattering monks in all directions.
The disorder was nothing short of deafening.
The monks, now desperate, unleashed a flood of ninshū techniques—blasts of wind, bursts of flame, and water whips. They aimed everything at the mysterious attacker by trying to stop him from causing more destruction.
Arthur, already in the air, met the flurry of attacks with swift movements. He evaded them with ease, as his body flickered in and out of the sky like an icy shadow.
These monks were strong, to say the least.
When he finally touched down, they saw him standing there casually. It was as if this chaos was just another day for him. And it truly was.
"What manner of man is this?!" a monk cried out in exasperation.
Who could blame these peaceful types for wondering? Such a man like Arthur was a walking army that truly shined when destruction came.
Yet they would not back down. Not without a fight.
Six more monks closed in around him. So his eyes gleamed red as he threatened, "Surely, thou jest…"
The monks didn't hesitate; they quickly moved in unison. Stoic and unblinking, Arthur waited until they closed the distance.
The first monk's fist cut through the air toward Arthur's chest. But Arthur's body fell back and flowed into a low spin as his legs outstretched like a whip. The punch sailed over his head, and he used his feet to glide right past the attack.
Before a second monk could help, Arthur kicked up and sent that monk stumbling backward.
Another monk took the opportunity to charge from the side like a spring. But Arthur had already anticipated him. As the monk's leg swept toward him, Arthur dropped lower and caught the monk's kick with his own sweeping leg. He then twisted and sent the monk flying across the floor.
The other monks now hesitated for just a moment before regrouping. Arthur, however, didn't give them time to think. He pushed off the ground, flipping backward into a handstand. Then his legs whipped through the air as he spun, catching two monks in the chest with an unexpected roundhouse kick.
Four left.
Arthur didn't wait for them to act. His feet hit the floor again, and just as quickly, he was back in motion, flowing into the rhythm of his fight.
A monk lunged at him, aiming to catch him in the ribs. Arthur didn't even look. He dropped into a low backspin, twisting and turning as the monk's blow passed harmlessly over him. Before the monk could even recover, Arthur's feet shot up fast like lightning and connected with the monk's chest, sending him toppling backward with a grunt.
Three left.
Two monks came together with synchronized movements to try and box him in. But he was never where they thought he would be once he made a move.
One monk threw a punch, but Arthur was already spinning and ducking as he darted under the strike. Then his legs shot out in a low arc, catching one monk square in the jaw, which knocked him into the air.
Arthur's feet barely touched the ground before he was back up again. He twisted and used the momentum to snap into another roundhouse that took the second monk down in a single strike.
One left.
The final monk, slower now, was left in fear. He hadn't known what he was up against.
Out of desperation, he lunged with an open palm at Arthur's chest. But Arthur dropped into another windmill spin, and, in the span of a heartbeat, he was already behind the monk. The attacker turned too slow, allowing Arthur to give one last spin kick that sent him sprawling to the floor.
"How pathetic of you things," he said, standing there alone.
More monks rushed onto the scene in a tide of white-robed figures. Their numbers more than tripled this time. A young monk boldly declared to him, "Give up! Thou art outnumbered!"
Arthur's face remained stoic. Without warning, he smacked his palm on the ground.
'Ice style: wolf fang avalanche jutsu…'
A ripple of cold chakra radiated outward as a dozen wolves were summoned from the surrounding ice and snow. The creatures materialized in a swirling flurry of frost and fur, forming a perfect circle around him. Then they howled loudly, which sent chills up and down the monks' spines.
"Doesn't look like it to me now," Arthur said, pointing forward with two fingers. "Do it…"
The wolves lunged at their prey with coordinated ferocity, causing the monks to scatter. They tried their best to defend against their ravenous attacks. But these wolves weren't ordinary. Their teeth delivered frostbite quickly.
Healing techniques struggled to keep pace with the damage as frost spread rapidly through their skin. Some monks fell to the ground with two wolves on top of them at once. Others trembled as their bodies turned stiff.
Arthur just watched with his arms crossed.
One would think these monks were indeed strong with powerful enough bodies to shield them from anything. They were right to believe this. But these same monks were going up against Arthur, who was using the chilling environment in his favour.
He knew that this part of the land didn't know what true cold felt like. He owned this land, after all, and understood that the residents didn't thrive well in the winter. That's why he was using the ice to his advantage. The longer they fought, the quicker the temperatures dropped, making it harder to move.
Arthur continued watching as his wolves fought with intelligence. They circled, darted, and struck accordingly. Yet he could see that they weren't doing a quick enough job since more monks kept gathering into the area.
He considered his options. Entering his Angelic Sage Mode would make him even more powerful, but he lacked the rainbow-coloured food pill that fueled that transformation. Still, he had more than one trick up his sleeve.
After about ten minutes, the last wolf was finally destroyed.
The ground was littered with icy remnants. Only half of the first set of monks had been taken down. The newcomers were already exhausted and battered, despite holding their ground.
"You monks are much more cunning than I gave you credit for," Arthur said, forgetting to speak their language. But that didn't matter now because he was ready to end things. They watched as black streaks appeared down his face, and his hair lengthened, flowing as if caught in an unseen wind. Now he was in his Simian Sage Mode. "So entertain me more…"