The caravan crawled through the narrow valley, and Raizen's instincts went on full alert. The gorge was barely wide enough for the convoy—perfect terrain for an ambush. One wrong step here, and the entire caravan could be wiped out.
Not that the guards didn't know this; the tension among them was tangible. Khaki, the merchant leader, sent a scout ahead. The scout returned quickly, reporting no signs of danger.
"Keep going!" Khaki waved them on, relief written all over his round, trusting face.
Raizen let out a quiet sigh. Sure, keep trusting the guy who's basically advertising a perfect ambush spot. Giant-mouth gorge, anyone? With no choice, he leapt ahead, sliding in front of the convoy.
"Stop. I'll check it out."
Khaki hesitated, glancing at Raizen, then reluctantly obeyed. The guards bristled at the interruption—one had even headed forward to scout—but dared not question Raizen's authority as a ninja.
"I'll be back soon. Guard the convoy," Raizen said calmly, shooting a glance at the nearest guard before sprinting into the canyon.
At first, the gorge seemed empty, but as Raizen moved deeper, he noticed subtle signs: grass bent unnaturally, like something heavy had trampled it. His eyes scanned the jagged rock walls, spotting fresh fractures and fallen stones—a climbing route someone had used recently.
"Climbed straight up the canyon wall, huh?" Raizen muttered. Without hesitation, he leapt and scaled the cliff with precise chakra control, moving like a shadow across stone.
Above, five bandits huddled in a hidden cave. One of them froze when Raizen shot upward from below. "A ninja…!" he yelled, panic flaring.
"Got company, boss!" the younger bandit shouted, fear cracking his voice.
"Shut up! What if he hears you?" the leader hissed, smacking him down.
"But boss, a ninja is coming!"
The leader's frown deepened, but he forced calm. "How old is this ninja?"
"Five… maybe six," the younger bandit squeaked.
"Five years old?!" The boss laughed, half in disbelief, half in derision. These shinobi are insane. Training a toddler to come robbing a caravan? Confidence returned, though—it was hard to imagine such a tiny figure being dangerous. His plan was simple: kill the child and continue the heist.
Then, a gentle, almost melodic voice cut through the tension, rippling across the cave walls. The bandits froze. A small figure stepped into view, walking slowly toward them, coins in hand as if strolling through a village square.
Raizen, five years old in appearance but a deadly predator in reality, raised his hand.
Before the boss could even react, Raizen moved. A blur of motion. Sharp Kuwu, his kunai, slashed across the leader's throat in a single, precise strike. Hot blood sprayed across the faces of the remaining four bandits, who screamed in terror, their confidence evaporating instantly.
The canyon echoed with the screams, the faint rustle of disturbed grass, and the quiet, deadly calm of a ninja who had turned a "kid" into a one-man execution squad.
Raizen grinned beneath his mask, a spark of cynicism flickering in his mind: Five years old? Sure. Let's see who survives next.