Gravel, barren rocks, wild grass, and cacti. The oppressive climate made the landscape monotonous and boring. The occasional migratory bird passing through could cause a stir.
A group of masked individuals, swords at their waists, walked silently along the road. Behind them were carts loaded with supplies, all covered with yellow tarps, bulging and uneven.
The man in the lead was tall, with a long scar across his face, giving him a distinctive look.
"Lord Ibiki, according to the map, we'll reach our destination after crossing this desert. We should arrive at the master's stronghold in about half a day."
"Mm," Ibiki Morino responded silently. Following him were none other than ninja skilled in swordsmanship, each assigned a Breathing Style according to their chakra nature affinity.
They were the Demon Slayer Corps, secretly founded by Hatake Kusuo!
Their sole purpose was to handle dirty work and private matters for Kusuo, with the collection of chakra sources being the most important. No one knew of Kusuo's ambition to achieve the Kekkai Mora; Ibiki knew too little to even guess. Everyone silently obeyed. Whatever their master commanded, they did.
Their lives had all been saved by Ibiki, on Kusuo's orders. They were carefully selected from various underground organizations, war orphans, and scavengers. Every single one had the Cursed Tongue Eradication Seal placed on them, and every one of them was grateful and fiercely loyal to Hatake Kusuo.
Just like Haku and Zabuza Momochi once were.
The equipment in the carts was the result of years of research by the Konoha Anbu: chakra detectors and amplifiers. With these items, no minute chakra source would be missed. Along the way, they had already filled the carts with all sorts of rare and strange treasures from across the ninja world. Things like the Ketsuryugan, the Red Eye, and even high-purity Byakugan and Sharingan that had been lost to the world were among their collection.
"Kuroko, stay alert. We absolutely cannot lose these things," Ibiki said to a teenage boy with purple hair, a war orphan he had rescued from Kirigakure. He was a child of the Yuki clan. When he was saved, he was in a daze and couldn't remember his old name. Seeing his face smeared with black, Ibiki had given him the name "Kuroko."
"Rest assured, my lord. I have everything recorded, and I've dispatched sensory ninja to guard the vicinity," Kuroko replied dutifully. He only started grumbling after Ibiki had walked away.
"In such a remote place, who would possibly come here to rob us...?"
The words had barely left his mouth when a cloud of sand suddenly rose in the distance. A thick yellow smoke billowed up. "Enemies—!"
In an instant, all the Demon Slayer Corps members went on high alert, immediately throwing off their cloaks and drawing their swords. The glint of blades flashed in the light. Streamlined currents of air began to flow around their bodies—lightning, water, wind, earth...
But there was no Moon or Sun Breathing.
"Who goes there?!" Kuroko stepped forward, sword in hand, and shouted.
Ibiki remained behind, unmoving.
"Hehe, we've been following you for over half a month, and we finally found the perfect time and place!"
The ground suddenly split open, revealing two grinning ninja holding large swords, laughing wildly. More similar figures began to appear behind them, all staring greedily at the supplies the Demon Slayer Corps was escorting, their avarice like that of foolish villagers.
"Don't waste time talking to them. We have orders from above to make this quick."
Amidst the swirling sand and wind, a figure wearing a bamboo hat emerged. His attire was clearly different from the others. After coldly uttering his words, he transformed into a gale, howling as he swept toward the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Wind Breathing, First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter!"
The Demon Slayer at the forefront smirked, his expression a mixture of confidence and pity for the attacker. A green light glowed from his blade. He then charged at high speed toward these uninvited guests, leaving a trail of spiraling wind blades in his wake.
The whistling wind testified to the sharpness of his blade.
"Wind Breathing, Second Form: Claws-Purifying Wind!"
Perhaps because those with the same attribute worked better together, three more comrades stood with the Wind-Breathing Demon Slayer. Wielding their green blades, each slash unleashed four claw-shaped wind blades into the air. The power was immense. Clang! Clang! Clang! The sound of slashes hitting metal rang out continuously. This technique had a strange rhythm, a wind that blew away all nameless sins.
"These guys are strange!"
The man who had first transformed into a gale, the suspected enemy leader, was forced back by the sword qi of the four Wind-Breathing Demon Slayers. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead; he had been a hair's breadth away from being hit by that sword qi. The half-meter-deep gouges in the ground showed the power of their attacks. If a human body were hit directly, it would be instantly dismembered!
"Boss!"
"Sir!" his companions called out anxiously.
They were panicking too. They had never seen such an incredible technique. To be able to use a sword to unleash ninjutsu of various elements—was this a legacy only preserved by a few remaining great clans? And now, here was a group of them, uniformly dressed, disciplined, each with a sword at their waist, indicating that all of them had mastered this powerful form of jutsu!
"Looks like we've run into some tough customers..." The leader's face grew solemn.
They were mercenaries hired by a major black market merchant. Their skills were varied, with no true masters among them. He himself was only a Special Jonin. Although their motley crew was numerically superior, creating a significant psychological advantage against the mere twenty or thirty Demon Slayers, it was a four or five-to-one advantage—not something to be taken lightly! In a real ninja war, it would be a one-sided slaughter! Even if the enemy had a true Jonin, they wouldn't be afraid!
But now, they had been completely outmatched from the very beginning.
"Retreat!" Flashing through his options, he immediately made the most advantageous decision.
Before he could even finish saying the word "retreat," his companions behind him had already dropped their weapons with cries of alarm. The greedy, arrogant, and invincible expressions they wore at the beginning were now discarded on the ground as they fled like stray dogs.
"Sir, should we pursue?" Kuroko asked, coming to Ibiki's side and looking disdainfully at the fleeing cowards.
Ibiki calmly waved his hand. From the way they appeared, he had a good idea of their origins. They were likely a mercenary group composed of rogue ninja from Sunagakure and Iwagakure. They usually committed crimes for unscrupulous merchants. It was probably a coincidence that they had targeted his team, coveting the goods they were transporting.
"Let them go. Tangling with them is just a waste of time. Completing Lord Kusuo's orders is our top priority."
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