Raizen watched the trio—Pig, Deer, and Butterfly—squirm under his gaze. A twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. "Maybe… we've been misunderstanding each other," he said dryly, interrupting their panicked chatter.
The three froze. Nara Kimura tilted her head, suspicion flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I have no intention of killing you," Raizen replied evenly. But his tone sharpened immediately. "That said… I can't just let you walk away. Hand over everything you've got on you, and tell me what your mission is this time."
Shock crossed their faces. They hadn't expected such a request, but survival instincts are funny that way. Reluctantly, the trio surrendered their gear and revealed their task.
The mission was far from ordinary. Rumors spoke of a terrifying entity known as a sprite master, a being capable of controlling the world's monsters. Whoever could harness its power would rule the entire ninja world—or so the legends said.
The creature was uncontrollable by humans, and could only be sealed. Whoever performed the sealing gained recognition as a witch—a figure respected, feared, and envied. This caravan, they explained, wasn't merely transporting goods; it carried an artifact left behind by such a witch. The artifact supposedly allowed its wielder to manipulate sprites.
Khaki, the businessman, had dressed the caravan as an ordinary convoy, employing a small family of ninja—like the Amamiya—to escort the treasure and keep it secret. He hoped the layers of protection would prevent the information from leaking. But somehow… it had leaked.
Now, a secretive organization had issued an open employment task. The Pig-Deer-Butterfly trio were only the first to attempt it. Anyone with ambition could intercept the mission: shadow-level shinobi, rival ninja families, even Jōnin-level operatives.
Raizen's face darkened at the thought. Great. A simple C-level escort turned into a potential Jōnin-level war zone. Classic.
But he allowed himself a small smirk. The artifact was tribute to the Land of Fire itself; no one in their right mind would risk open theft. And anyone who thought they could control the sprites themselves would soon learn how lethal they could be. If sprites were that easy to control, witches wouldn't exist, would they?
Relieved slightly, Raizen started planning. Flying Thunder God was already in place at five strategic locations. If things escalated—Jōnin or shadow-level enemies appeared—he could vanish in an instant, abandoning the mission if necessary. He might be a reincarnated cynic, but he wasn't about to die for someone else's political gossip.
Just another day in the Warring States ninja life.