"Inoiki…" he muttered. "No wonder we lost so many men. And so cleanly."
His fingers trembled slightly as he broke the seal and read the letter. It confirmed everything: Inoiki was operating under a covert alliance. His objective was Kurotsuchi. But there was one more directive tacked on—a secondary mission: stall Inoiki's escape for as long as possible.
The commander exhaled slowly, lips curling into a bitter smile.
"So that's it. They're sending us to die."
He looked to the horizon, where the last flickers of the explosion still lit up the sky. The truth was inescapable. He didn't stand a chance. Not against the Silent Reaper. Inoiki didn't leave survivors—not when he was on a mission. And if, by some miracle, they managed to escape the village, Iwagakure's army was already lying in wait beyond its borders. An ambush they would not survive.
Trapped between certain death and suicidal orders, the commander's mind raced.
Then—like a crack of thunder—an idea struck. Ruthless. Desperate. But maybe... effective.
His eyes narrowed.
"If they want to live," he said, turning to his subordinate, "tell everyone—start taking hostages. Prioritize women and children."
It wasn't a strategy. It was a gamble. A shield of innocence to slow the blade that was coming for them. He knew exactly what it meant.
But survival had replaced honor a long time ago.
----
Inoiki held Kurotsuchi close as they floated in the sky, wrapped in the silence that followed chaos. At the moment of escape, he hadn't given their closeness much thought—his focus had been survival. But now, with the danger behind them and the village below growing distant, a different kind of tension settled in.
His cheeks flushed with a faint blush. He was never one to fumble with emotions, but being this close to her—safely held in his arms—felt strangely intimate. And judging by the warmth rising in Kurotsuchi's face, she felt it too.
It was the first time she'd ever been in the arms of a man who wasn't just a comrade. More than that, this man was her crush. Her heartbeat betrayed her calm exterior.
As soon as they reached solid ground, Inoiki gently set her down. The swirl of short swords around him loosened from their drill formation and began rotating in a slower, more rhythmic pattern—still alert, still controlled.
Kurotsuchi looked up at him and spoke quietly, her voice sincere.
"Thank you... for coming to save me."
Inoiki gave a small nod, his tone clipped but honest.
"I was just following orders."
Before she could respond, his expression changed.
His gaze grew distant, sharp. Observation Haki flared.
Kurotsuchi noticed it instantly.
"What is it?" she asked, concern rising in her voice.
Inoiki didn't answer. He couldn't waste time.
He lifted off the ground in an instant, his swords following in formation, slicing upward through the air. But even as he disappeared, his voice echoed in her mind.
"They've started taking civilians. They're trying to use them as hostages to shield themselves from me. They know I'm here."
Kurotsuchi's eyes flared with anger as the message settled in her mind.
"Damn it!" she shouted, fists clenching.
Luckily, before leaving, Inoiki had already unsealed her chakra. If he hadn't, she would've been as helpless as a civilian. But now—now she was ready to fight.
Without hesitation, she turned and sprinted toward the compound. Along the perimeter, the bodies of fallen rogue ninjas littered the ground. From one of them, she pulled a kunai and a short sword, gripping them tight.
Then she took off in the direction Inoiki had flown—rage in her eyes, resolve in her steps.
----
Inoiki tore through the sky like a streak of light. His body moved fast—but the short swords orbiting him moved faster. Guided by his psychokinesis and now crackling with lightning chakra, they shimmered like bolts of living electricity, slicing through the air ahead of him.
The swords weren't just moving—they were hunting.
As he neared the cluster of rogue ninjas, Inoiki didn't slow down. He didn't call out. He didn't offer warnings. There would be no negotiations.
These men had crossed a line.
The moment he saw weapons raised against civilians—kunai at throats, blades drawn against children—he acted. His swords rained down with ruthless precision, each one targeting a ninja who dared use an innocent as a shield. There was no wasted motion. No hesitation. Steel pierced flesh. Hands severed from wrists. Throats opened before a cry could escape. The air filled with the sudden, sharp silence of death.
Then the commander appeared—desperate and cornered.
"Stop!" he shouted, stepping into view, a small girl clutched in his arm, a kunai pressed to her neck. "Stop, or I'll kill her!"
Madness in his eyes.
But Inoiki didn't stop. His swords didn't falter. They kept moving, weaving and slicing, cutting down rogue after rogue with surgical exactness.
The commander's voice rose, frantic.
"Didn't you hear me? Look! I'll kill her right now if you don't stop!"
Inoiki's sky-blue eyes glowed in the darkness, casting an eerie light that cut through the night like a blade. He turned his gaze on the commander—unblinking, absolute.
Then he spoke.
"Quiet."
The word wasn't loud, but it hit like a shockwave.
As soon as it left his lips, a crushing wave of mental pressure spread outward—his will made manifest. Within a hundred-meter radius, every rogue ninja buckled under the weight. Weaker Genin and Chunin were slammed to the ground, unable to lift their heads. Even the more seasoned Jonin could only manage to remain on one knee, their bodies trembling as they struggled against the invisible force pinning them down.
No one moved. No one could.
(AI generated image in the comments.)
And in that moment of paralysis, the short swords under Inoiki's control swept through the battlefield like the hand of death. Silent, elegant, unstoppable—cutting down rogue after rogue with merciless precision. They moved like the blades of the Grim Reaper himself, reaping lives as if harvesting wheat from a field.
Then, calmly, Inoiki walked forward.
He stopped in front of the rogue commander, who now knelt before him—partly under the weight of Inoiki's mental pressure, and partly under the weight of something deeper: resignation.
The commander looked up, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his brow.
"In front of absolute power, everything else is meaningless," he said quietly. "An old friend once told me that. And now… I've seen the truth of it twice."
His voice was steady, but hollow.
"I was never going to stop you. I knew it the moment I saw that light in the sky. I'm not your equal... never was. The one who forced me into this mission, the one who made me take this village... he too made me kneel with just a look."
He chuckled bitterly.
"Just like you."
----
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