"Stop!"
At the front of the formation, Mizu halted. His footsteps sank deep into the gravel. The fifty ninjas of the trap squad stopped in unison behind him.
Their eyes fixed ahead.
In the middle of the boundless desert, bizarre-shaped heads jutted out from the sand. These heads were scattered chaotically, without any discernible pattern. At the far end of this strange forest of protrusions was a gorge of the Land of Wind.
A white bird flying in the sky slowly descended beside him. He took a scroll from the operations pack on his back. He unrolled it, revealing a map of the Land of Wind.
"We're still one kilometer away from our destination. Our traps will be set along this final stretch."
His gaze swept over the ninjas of the trap squad before him.
"We are now officially at war with Suna. It's highly likely that their forces, stationed at the gorge, have set up ambushes somewhere along this path."
"That's why we need three people to scout ahead."
As he finished speaking, the trap squad fell into dead silence. Everyone understood just how dangerous a scouting mission was.
It was almost certain death.
"I'll go!"
Suddenly, a ninja stepped forward from the group.
"I'll go too!"
"I'll go! Sanryu, your wife's still waiting for you, let those of us with nothing to lose take the risk!"
More and more people stepped forward, smiling as they competed for the three scouting slots.
Mizu felt heavy-hearted.
Though everyone was smiling, they all understood deep down what this mission truly meant.
"Let me go!"
The clear, childlike voice of Shiratori rang out crisply.
Mizu frowned and rejected it without hesitation. "No! You can't go!"
The trap squad couldn't help but smile at Shiratori.
He looked at Mizu seriously and said, "I can fly high in the sky and observe. My puppets can test for traps on the ground."
Mizu paused. He had to admit, it was a viable plan.
Shiratori continued, "This way, no one has to be in danger."
[Gratitude detected]
[Multiple sources: +3000 points each]
[Total accumulated: 150,000 points]
[Energy transferred to Smallpox Deity]
[Development progress: 91.3%]
"But…"
Mizu looked at him, still somewhat hesitant.
Shiratori immediately interrupted him and promised, "Don't worry. If I sense any danger, I'll fly right back!"
Mizu glanced at the broom in his hand. Flying high, it would indeed be difficult for the Suna ninjas to catch him.
"Leave it to me!"
"You all wait here for me!"
With that, Shiratori gave Mizu no time to object, hopped onto his broom, and shot into the sky.
Number One, seeing him flying forward, followed without hesitation, charging toward the strange forest.
They moved fast. In the eyes of Mizu and the others, the two soon became nothing more than black dots in the distance.
Before long, even the black dots vanished.
"I believe in him. He'll be fine."
A ninja behind Mizu tried to reassure him.
Mizu looked out into the distance, nodded firmly, though the worry in his eyes lingered and would not fade.
---
One thousand meters… eight hundred… six hundred… The distance between Shiratori and the Suna forward camp was getting shorter and shorter.
For safety, he flew extremely high, making sure those on the ground had little chance of spotting him before proceeding with peace of mind.
Below, his puppet moved carefully through the grotesque forest of protruding heads, guided precisely by his instructions.
Surrounding the puppet, several crows darted through the air like streaks of black lightning. Their eyes scanned in all directions, relaying everything they saw directly to his mind.
The wind rushing past his ears grew louder. In the distance, the canyon came into view.
The gorge looked as if it had been cleaved open by a giant axe, forming a massive natural scar across the desert.
The wind howled through the gorge, producing sharp, weeping wails.
Sheer, jagged cliff walls loomed on both sides, and Suna's camp clung precariously to the edge of this massive wound in the earth.
The camp was built against a relatively gentle cliffside, carved and expanded from natural caves. The entrances were camouflaged with materials matching the surrounding rock, making them nearly invisible, only discernible when his crows flew up close for a detailed inspection.
Several watchtowers rose from the most prominent rocky outcroppings with the best visibility. The crows skimmed silently over their peaks.
"A crow?"
Inside one of the watchtowers, a Suna ninja looked up, watching the crows circling above.
"No chakra signature detected. Just normal crows."
The ninja beside him lowered his hand and let out a breath of relief.
Through the crows' vision, Shiratori carefully scanned every inch of the Suna camp's layout.
"Relax. If any Ame ninjas show up, they'll be walking straight to their death."
One of the ninjas in the watchtower slapped his comrade's shoulder, a cold smirk curling beneath his mask.
"You're not wrong."
The guards exchanged a laugh.
The crows circled above them once more, then gradually flew away.
Meanwhile, in the grotesque forest of wind-eroded rock formations, the intense heat shimmered and warped the air. In the middle of the scorching waves, a lone figure appeared.
The wind stirred the fine sand, casting a layer of mystery over the silhouette.
Beneath the endless sea of yellow sand, pairs of eyes emerged.
"Who is that?"
They stared at the figure in the distance, partially obscured by the swirling dust.
"Ame only sent one person to scout?"
Their whispered words were swallowed by the wailing winds.
"That means they must be confident in this one's strength."
"Let's strike first."
The figure gradually emerged from the surface of the rocks.
At that moment, the sands exploded skyward. Multiple shadows burst forth from beneath the sand.
Their hands moved rapidly in front of their chests, forming hand seals in the blink of an eye.
A deep roar burst from their throats: "Wind Release: Gale Palm!"
Ten ninjas cast the jutsu simultaneously, the result was devastating.
And in a desert like this, already dominated by fierce winds, Gale Palm could unleash even greater destructive power.
Violent winds surged from the ground, forming walls of air that rushed in from all directions, closing in on the black silhouette at the center.
The pressure was overwhelming, as if the wind itself sought to crush the figure into dust.