Forest of Death
"This childish endeavor of yours is illogical," Akatsuki scolded coldly.
Ryu smirked as he leapt from branch to branch, his movements fluid but not flawless. He'd learned the hard way that inheritance didn't mean instant mastery. His bruised body was a constant reminder of that painful truth.
"Haha. Come on, spoil-sport," he replied amiably.
"Explain to me why you must act in such a manner?" Akatsuki asked, exasperated.
Ryu had gotten the idea shortly after leaving the Everglade, where he'd awakened. Once the Inheritance had settled, he couldn't shake the thought—he had the Kidōmaru template now, so why not roleplay it to the fullest?
Kidōmaru, after all, was a natural-born archer—an elite long-range combatant who also excelled in stealth and had a reputation for competent taijutsu, even according to Shikamaru Nara.
"I'm in a magical forest, beasts roaming about, and I have these abilities… Skills I could only dream about on Earth," he said as he landed lightly on a thick branch. "Back there, I was just a guy—stuck in my body, with no prospects. Watching others ascend, take to the skies with their spirit roots while mine writhed uselessly inside me… it was demoralizing."
He paused, his voice softer now.
"My life wasn't peaches and cream on either world. I was borderline an otaku on Earth, but had a few friends. A social life. Some joy."
Here, he exhaled, the sound heavy.
"Here… it was hell. Locked away from everything. Not physically abused, but emotionally?" His voice hitched. "Ten times worse. I was close to breaking."
Akatsuki remained silent.
Ryu crouched low, balanced ninja-style on the branch. Upon awakening, basic shinobi techniques like tree walking and water walking came instinctively, as if his muscles remembered what his mind hadn't learned. With the Kidōmaru inheritance overlaying his chakra pathways, the skills were budding, not mastered, but imprinted.
The landscape fascinated him. He had left behind the Everglade and was now deep in what could only be described as a mythical rainforest, complete with triple canopies and towering trees that dwarfed even the Eiffel Tower. If the Empire State Building stood here, it would feel… small.
He hung upside-down by a chakra-infused thread, a wide grin stretching across his face.
To complete the roleplay, Ryu had transformed himself using the Henge Jutsu, appearing exactly like Kidōmaru from the anime, minus the Sound Village forehead protector. His allegiance, if any, leaned more toward Amegakure than Konoha.
When Akatsuki teased him about his cosplay, he didn't retaliate. That initial resistance had been Ryu of Earth—a boy clinging to pride, not potential. But now? He wasn't that boy. Nor was he truly Aido.
The Kidōmaru kekkei genkai fascinated him. He could produce sticky, durable, and elastic spider-like webs by infusing his saliva or sweat with chakra. Powered by constant chakra flow, these threads were akin to live wires, pulsing with his intent.
In testing, he found that even a standard kunai couldn't sever them. Only techniques like Neji's Gentle Fist, which targeted chakra directly, could slice through them. Akatsuki speculated that Battle Qi warriors could achieve a similar effect as magic attacks, particularly elemental ones.
That had deflated some of his pride, but not all. He still marveled at the webbing. Kidōmaru was essentially Spider-Man with lethal intent in the world of Elemental Nations.
He followed the trail of magical beasts through the treetops with practiced ease, noting hoof-shaped indentations below. With knowledge drawn from Aido's Magical Beast Encyclopedia—a mandatory noble education—he quickly identified the prints as those of an Iron-Tusk Boar.
"Low-class magical beast," he muttered. "Slow, but its defense is top-tier. Earth-element affinity, and those tusks…"
The Iron-Tusk was dangerous not because of its speed, but because its hide was like living armor. They could destroy ecosystems with their voracious appetites and iron-hard tusks if left unchecked outside their beast territories. Hence, frequent extermination quests.
The prints told him that this wasn't a stray but a herd.
Akatsuki snorted at his detective work. He just shrugged and moved on, hopping to a higher perch to continue tracking.
Then he spotted one—a lone boar, digging up roots below.
He crouched low and began chewing vigorously, preparing the next piece of his arsenal: the Kumo Nenkin, or Spider Sticky Gold. Akatsuki had once commented that he looked like a billy goat when creating it. He hadn't disagreed.
Kidōmaru used this kekkei genkai to create weapons, solidifying chakra-infused fluid from his mouth or skin. Once exposed to air, it hardened into a metal-like substance. Ryu found the texture odd, like Bubblicious gum—bland, chewy, and pliable for a moment before hardening.
He reached into his mouth, pulled the golden material out, and molded it into two kunai.
The Spider Sticky Gold was three times sturdier than his standard steel. Given the option, why bother with anything else?
"Tsk," Akatsuki groaned in disgust.
Ryu grinned as he readied his kunai, eyes locked on the Iron-Tusk below.
Let the hunt begin.