"Now," Satoru said.
Ren and Mariko moved as one body, their training overriding every instinct that screamed for hesitation. The buried chakra signatures beneath the sand surged; the proctors had heard the signal too, and they knew, in that crystalline moment, that their trap had been discovered. But discovery was not the same as escape.
Satoru activated his Sharingan mid-stride. He saw them; they were emerging now, too late, their carefully laid ambush unravelling because a genin had seen through their genjutsu and turned their own deception against them.
The first proctor erupted from the sand directly in front of Satoru; a tall man with a scarred forearm and a kunai already swinging toward Satoru's throat.
Satoru did not retreat. He stepped into the strike, his body twisting, his left hand catching the proctor's wrist while his right drove a palm into the man's elbow.
The joint cracked; not broken, but hyperextended, the kunai clattering to the sand. The proctor's eyes widened behind his breath guard; he had not expected a genin to close the distance instead of fleeing.
Satoru released the wrist and pivoted, his Sharingan tracking the other three proctors. Ren's short sword shinged against a proctor's kunai, the impact spraying sparks.
Mariko's kunai was flashing. She was not trying to overwhelm her opponent; she was disrupting. Every strike was aimed at the proctor's hands, his wrists, the delicate tendons that controlled his grip.
The two remaining proctors hesitated; a fatal mistake.
Satoru's Sharingan traced the chakra threads that powered the oasis illusion. The false water, the false trees, the false shade; all of it was anchored to a single point: a small, black stone buried beneath the largest palm. He crossed the distance in three strides, his sandals crunching on the sand, and drove his kunai into the stone.
The crack was sharp, almost musical; the oasis shuddered, and the genjutsu dissolved like paint washed from canvas. The pool of clear water became a shallow pit of dry sand; the palm trees became weathered posts driven into the ground; the cool breeze became the hot, dry wind that had been blowing all along.
The proctors froze; not from a genjutsu, but from genuine surprise. The boy had not only identified the trap; he had disabled it. He had destroyed their illusion anchor, their primary tool for luring exhausted teams into the kill zone.
One of the proctors, a woman with a long braid and cold eyes, turned toward Satoru, her hand reaching for a wire trigger that would collapse the quicksand pit beneath his feet. Mariko was there first; her kunai thunked into the proctor's wrist, not deep enough to cripple, but deep enough to make her drop the trigger. The woman hissed in pain and fury, but she did not pursue; Mariko was already retreating, repositioning, denying the proctor any clean angle of attack.
Ren had forced his opponent to the ground, his sword at the man's throat. The proctor's breath guard had been knocked askew, revealing a weathered face and a grudging respect in his eyes.
The lead proctor; raised a hand. "Stand down."
His teammates froze. The woman with the braid lowered her kunai. The man pinned by Ren relaxed his muscles, signalling surrender. The fourth proctor, who had been circling toward Mariko's blind spot, stopped mid-stride.
The lead proctor pulled down his breath guard, revealing a face that was more tired than angry. "You identified the genjutsu. You identified our positions. You disabled the illusion anchor. And you coordinated a counter-ambush without verbal communication." He shook his head slowly.
"Most teams walk straight into the oasis. They see water, they see shade, and they stop thinking. You three noticed too much."
Satoru deactivated his Sharingan, "The oasis was too perfect. No birds, no insects, no signs of life. The reflections in the water did not distort. The shadows fell at the wrong angles." He paused. "And your chakra signatures were buried too shallowly. If you had gone another meter deeper, I might not have sensed you."
The proctor's eyes narrowed. "You sensed us? From that distance?"
"Sensed is not the right word. I felt the absence of something that should have been there." Satoru gestured at the sand. "The desert is empty. Your chakra created a void. Voids are noticeable."
The proctor was silent for a long moment. Then he laughed; a short, sharp sound that was almost admiring. "You pass this encounter. Congratulations, Team from Konoha. You are the first team to successfully counter-ambush a proctor squad."
He reached into his vest and pulled out a small metal token; a disc stamped with the Suna sandfall. "This proves you engaged and overcame a proctor. Show it at the checkpoint, and you will be credited with a successful encounter."
Ren's eyes flicked to the token, then to the proctor. "What about scrolls? Do you have an extra scroll?"
The proctor shook his head. "We are eliminators, not participants. We do not carry scrolls. You want a second scroll; you will have to take it from another team."
He tossed the token to Satoru, who caught it without looking. "You have a long way to go. The Demon Desert is not kind to those who celebrate too early."
He turned and walked away, his team following. Within moments, they had vanished over a dune, swallowed by the desert.
Ren let out a long, shaky breath, "That was... close. If you had not sensed them, we would have walked right into the quicksand."
Mariko was already checking her cuts; the kunai wound on her forearm was shallow, already clotting. "We burned more energy than I wanted. We need to rest before we move again."
Satoru nodded, "Fifteen minutes. Find shade if you can; there is a rock formation about two hundred meters east. We will reassess water levels there."
They walked in silence; not the awkward silence of fractured trust, but the comfortable silence of a team that had just survived a trial together.
The rock formation was a cluster of weathered sandstone slabs, tilted at odd angles, their surfaces hot to the touch but their shadows cool. They settled into the shade, pulled out their canteens, and took measured sips.
Mariko studied the map, her finger tracing their route. "We have made good time. If we maintain this pace, we should reach the checkpoint with twelve hours to spare. But we still need a second scroll." She looked at Satoru. "Any thoughts on where to find one?"
Satoru's gaze drifted across the desert, his Sharingan dormant but his senses alert. "As you said, we let the aggressive teams wear each other down. We avoid the fights, conserve our energy, and pick off the survivors."
Mariko rolled up the map and tucked it into her vest. "We should move before the sun sets. Night travel is safer; cooler, less visibility, easier to avoid detection."
They rose, checked their gear, and resumed walking. They had travelled for another hour when Satoru felt it; a faint disturbance in the chakra landscape, like ripples in still water. He raised a hand, and Ren and Mariko froze instantly, their bodies dropping into defensive stances.
"Someone is ahead," Satoru murmured. "Maybe two hundred meters. Chakra signatures are... agitated. Not proctors; too uneven, too uncontrolled. Genin."
Ren's hand went to his sword. "One team? Two?"
"One. Three signatures." Satoru's Sharingan flickered to life, the red field sharpening the distant shapes. "They are not moving. They might be resting, or they might be setting a trap."
Mariko's eyes narrowed. "Do we engage or avoid?"
Satoru considered. They needed a second scroll. The team ahead was likely exhausted, possibly wounded, and probably vulnerable. But they were also unknown; their capabilities, their specialities, their willingness to fight to the death. Engaging was a gamble. Avoiding was safe.
Safe does not win the Exams, he reminded himself. Safe does not promote.
"We take them," Satoru said. "Quickly. No unnecessary violence. We only need one scroll."
Ren nodded. Mariko's jaw tightened. They moved.
=====
Your Reviews, Comments and Powerstones about my work are welcome
If you can, then please support me on Patreon.
Link - www.patreon.com/P4lindrome
You Can read more chapters ahead on Patreon.
Latest Chapter: Chapter 173-Lucky Bastard