The bandit chief had just barked the order to retreat when Minato suddenly vanished from sight.
Clang!
Steel rang against steel. A huge blade stopped Minato's kunai inches from the man's throat.
"Hmph! You think I'm the same as those cowards? I'm a samurai," the giant snarled, eyes flashing.
Minato had tried to finish the fight in a single instant, but the leader's reflexes were sharp—far sharper than an ordinary bandit's. His swordsmanship forced Minato into a quick exchange, sparks flashing with every clash.
While Minato locked blades with the samurai, Lock and Kushina swept up the remaining thugs. Against shinobi, the raiders had no chance. Within minutes, most were either unconscious or bound by the disguised caravan guards.
Lock turned to watch Minato's duel—only for the hairs on his neck to prickle.
"Die, brat!"
A figure burst from the ground behind him, arm thrusting straight through Lock's chest—
—only for the body to collapse into mud.
The attacker froze. "What—?!"
Blood spattered across his mask as shuriken whistled toward him. He spun, barely deflecting half before Lock's own steel forced him back.
"You… you tricked me!" the masked man snarled.
Lock stepped from the trees, kunai in hand, eyes cold. "Honestly, I thought this was just a bandit hunt. Didn't expect a ninja. But your hiding technique? Too sloppy. I saw you coming."
The man's hands trembled in fury. "Arrogant brat!"
He flew through seals, breath swelling in his chest. "Water Release: Waterfall Burst!"
A torrent surged forward—only to smash harmlessly against the earthen wall Lock had raised in the same breath.
"Earth Release: Earth-Style Wall!"
The spray hissed off the barrier. Lock slid aside just in time as a spiked meteor hammer whipped past his head, chains cracking like thunder. The weapon struck him once—splintering wood. A substitution.
The real Lock appeared behind, driving a kick into the man's ribs that sent him staggering, wheezing.
But before Lock could press the attack—
"Lock, move!"
A sudden gale roared past him, Kushina's wind jutsu exploding forward. The blast caught the masked ninja full force, hurling him into the dirt with a scream.
Lock whirled on her, scowling. "Kushina! You nearly hit me!"
She puffed out her chest proudly. "Details, details! The point is—I got him, didn't I?"
Lock bit back his frustration. He'd almost had the fight finished himself, but Kushina had swooped in at the last moment, stealing the kill.
The masked man lay broken, barely conscious but alive. At the same time, Minato finally disarmed the bandit chief, sending his sword clattering into the dust. For all his raw strength, the samurai couldn't match Konoha's Yellow Flash-in-the-making.
Jiraiya stepped forward at last, eyes narrowing on the fallen ninja. His easy smile faded; thifoughtnary a bandit raid.
The truth came quickly under questioning. The "ninja" wasn't from any hidden village. He had once been a bandit, until the chaos of the Second Shinobi War left him with the belongings of a dead Kirigakure shinobi—scrolls, notes, scraps of ninjutsu. With some talent and dangerous ambition, he had taught himself enough to wield chakra and simple techniques. Gathering other criminals, he had built this gang into a terror along the trade routes.
But arrogance had drawn Konoha's eye. And now, his reign was over.
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