"Cough… cough, cough…"
The biting winter night wind stung Hane Genma's weary spirit. Before him lay an enemy deader than dead, prompting a long, relieved exhale.
He owed this victory, objectively speaking, to the "cooperation" of this formidable foe.
Had it not been for Jigo Yurei's many hearts serving as external chakra nodes, Genma wouldn't have had a steady chakra supply during the battle. Without that, even awakening Boil Release would've left him drained and defeated.
The battlefield they left behind was a ghastly sight. The tenshu, Kikyo Castle's central keep, was essentially obliterated.
When the fiercest fighting finally subsided, five or six shinobi climbed up to the tenshu. But upon seeing the ruined structure and Jigo Yurei's corpse, they felt their scalps prickle with dread.
Forget the upper half of the tenshu, now reduced to rubble—the platform itself looked nothing like the aftermath of an ordinary battle. The floor and remaining walls resembled a stalactite cave, eroded in layers and coated with a greasy film. In higher spots, semi-gelatinous globs, like drooling saliva, hung down. Murky droplets fell slowly to the floor, sizzling with white smoke.
Peeling lacquer from the structure pooled in the pitted ground, forming vibrant, multicolored stains. Clumps of half-dissolved "black hair" lay scattered, emitting a pungent stench. And Jigo Yurei's corpse? It looked like it had taken a hundred-meter freestyle swim in an acid bath—utterly gruesome.
This bizarre, oppressive battlefield left the arriving shinobi frozen in place. The enemy was right there, yet they dared not take a step forward.
Everything about the scene was too overwhelming.
Genma, blood-soaked and limping, looked like he'd collapse at a touch. Yet none of these shinobi dared to strike. When he noticed the arrival of the daimyo's other ninja, he showed no particular emotion. He merely turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over each of them.
His calm eyes seemed to brim with infinite menace. The surrounding shinobi couldn't meet his stare; some even backed away instinctively.
Unless absolutely necessary, Genma had no intention of attacking these shinobi. With some effort, he raised his hands, mimicking the motion of playing an accordion, and said to them, "You're all fired."
The gesture was abstract, but the meaning was clear.
The shinobi exchanged glances, then wordlessly began retreating cautiously. They turned, leapt off the tenshu, and fled the scene at top speed.
The strongest of Kikyo Castle's daimyo's guardian shinobi had been defeated head-on. With that, their group crumbled.
Some in their ranks were willing to sacrifice themselves, proving that even shinobi occasionally showed a shred of honor and loyalty. The rest, however, demonstrated what it meant to be "human."
Flee when you must, retreat when you can. Life was theirs to keep, and there was no need to fight a losing battle. Was that cowardice? No, they'd call it "rationality."
Genma had been cannon fodder for a long time. He understood their mindset well.
He shifted his gaze from the fleeing shinobi back to Jigo Yurei's corpse. Though unintentional, this enemy had indeed helped him master his kekkei genkai. Genma almost wanted to thank him.
Then, recalling the Fuma Clan's "thrifty" traditions, he pulled out a scroll and sealed the corpse inside.
The battle was over, but Kikyo Castle grew ever more chaotic.
Genma's objective remained unfulfilled. Despite his severe injuries, he wasn't about to abandon tonight's critical mission—better to act now than risk complications later.
Jigo Yurei had anticipated an attack and chosen the tenshu as his battleground, so the daimyo of Kikyo Castle, Date Toyosaka, seemed to have gone into hiding. But Genma wasn't entirely clueless about the daimyo's whereabouts. As he watched the shinobi flee, a fleeting glance downward revealed a familiar figure.
Using the Mayfly Technique, he swiftly left the tenshu. Within a minute or two, he appeared abruptly before that person.
Date Kengoku, seeing his side's shinobi scattering, realized the situation was beyond salvage. He was about to hide when he found it was already too late.
Genma looked half-dead. With a bit of makeup and a quick hairstyle tweak, he could've pulled off the "beautiful, strong, tragic" archetype. Kengoku vaguely recognized Genma's face. He'd once thought Genma was just a lackey of the Fuma Clan's leader, but now it was clear that wasn't the case.
Blocked by Genma, Kengoku seemed to realize something. His legs began trembling uncontrollably. To him, Genma wasn't a shinobi anymore—he was death itself.
Even thinking with his backside, Kengoku knew he was on Genma's revenge list.
"Cough. Lord Deputy, I much preferred your old, defiant self. Can you bring that back?" Genma's mood was surprisingly good, enough to tease the man.
Kengoku had no idea how to respond, managing only a smile uglier than a sob.
"Honestly, I'm the one who feels like crying right now. Not out of grief, but… well, a kind of joy from reaping what I've sown." Genma paused. "Standing here proves my efforts haven't been in vain. Looking back, it wasn't easy."
He spoke with conviction, but deep down, he felt a twinge of guilt. What effort? He'd barely done anything. His current strength—wasn't that mostly thanks to White Zetsu's contributions? It had little to do with him.
Kengoku didn't understand a word and grew more terrified by Genma's "friendly" demeanor. A guy nearly killed by their shinobi was now smiling and acting like he wanted to chat. Who wouldn't be scared? Kengoku began to suspect Genma's sanity.
"Date… what was it again? I mean, Lord Daimyo. Where is he now?"
Seeing his acquaintance too tense, Genma dropped the small talk and got to the point. He was certain Kengoku knew the daimyo's location. The daimyo was in hiding, so Kengoku had stepped up—someone had to manage the city temporarily.
"D-Daimyo… he's… he's at…"
"Forget it. Can you lead the way?"
Kengoku nodded frantically, nearly sparking from the speed.
But just then, before Kengoku could play guide, a shinobi hidden at the corner of a nearby street suddenly charged at Genma.
It was a perfectly timed assassination attempt.
A shinobi's creed: strike when the moment demands it.
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