An ambush was, without question, an efficient way to kill.
But to keep relying on trickery and sneak attacks—it almost felt a little dishonorable.
Fortunately, among shinobi, there was no such thing as honor.
On the battlefield, victory—not virtue—was the only measure that mattered.
At this point, Hagumi Genshin's strength already far surpassed that of the lone surviving enemy.
With Isagawa's cooperation, the outcome was obvious.
Two against one—
As he'd said himself, the enemy's fate was sealed.
Now the man's corpse lay at Genshin's feet, his face still frozen in defiance.
Beside him, Isagawa crouched, rummaging through the body for usable tools and weapons to replenish his own supply.
"Two-thirds done," Genshin muttered. "That means we've wiped out more than half of them. Next, we go help Ryunosuke's unit… if we're lucky, maybe we'll even get the chance to finish them all."
But he knew the answer was most likely no.
"Yes, Clan Leader."
Isagawa stood stiffly, his face tight and unreadable. Inside, however, his thoughts were in turmoil—caught somewhere between the clarity of surviving a near-death ordeal and the dazed confusion of witnessing the impossible.
He couldn't understand how Genshin's strength had suddenly increased so dramatically.
Nor could he make sense of how the man had annihilated their foes so easily.
Was it really just that Transformation Technique ambush?
Since when was the Transformation Technique such a high-grade, high-efficiency tool for killing?
It defied all logic.
But whatever his doubts, he fell in step behind Genshin as they moved—one in front, one behind—toward the third battlefield.
Unfortunately, their enemies were not mindless automatons.
A battlefield was never static; the moment one side's chakra signatures began disappearing en masse, the other side adapted.
The last remaining enemy squad had a sensory ninja with them, capable of gathering long-distance intel.
They had already realized that both of their allied teams had been completely wiped out.
By the time Genshin and Isagawa reached Ryunosuke's position, the remaining five enemy shinobi had already retreated.
They didn't know what had happened, but the rapid disappearance of ten chakra signals was undeniable—
—and the fact that even their commander's signature vanished first told them everything.
They were outmatched, outclassed, and out of time.
You don't need intellect to make the right call in that situation—just instinct.
If you can't win, you run.
Abandoning the mission and retreating was the only sane decision left.
When Genshin finally reached Ryunosuke, he found him gravely injured—
several deep puncture wounds through his left leg, blood loss critical.
If they'd arrived even a few minutes later, the man would've died where he lay.
Ryunosuke's face was a portrait of disbelief.
He'd already resigned himself to death, yet somehow, the enemy had retreated on their own.
Genshin and Isagawa's arrival confirmed that their leader had indeed completed the earlier plan and annihilated his targets.
But… how?
"Clan Leader!" Isagawa shouted from a tree branch, voice urgent. "Should we pursue? I can still see them—barely!"
A complete wipeout would've been ideal—no survivors meant no leaks, no risk of their location being exposed.
If any of the enemy escaped, retaliation would be inevitable.
Even after killing ten of them, the opposing clan still held overwhelming superiority.
Genshin paused, considering.
Then he shook his head.
"Forget it. We're in no condition to chase."
All of them were injured—one of them critically—and the enemy had already fled.
Tracking them by sight alone was pointless, especially with a sensory ninja guiding their retreat.
"They might bring reinforcements," Isagawa said quietly, unable to keep the worry from his voice.
"I know," Genshin replied evenly. "And yes, they'll probably strike back harder next time. But think about it—this was their best chance to finish us off. They failed. They won't get another."
He glanced toward the trees, the forest mist curling around his words.
"We move again. As long as we keep relocating, catching us will be nearly impossible. All we need is a moment's rest—and they'll no longer be worth fearing."
There was something in his tone—a calm, unshakable confidence—that settled the others.
Even if doubt still lingered, they could do nothing but follow.
They knew, deep down, that they lacked the strength or resources to pursue.
Still, watching the enemy slip away after such a costly battle left a bitter taste—so close to total victory, yet forced to let it go.
But Genshin wasn't truly worried.
For the first time, he realized he had surpassed them—not just in strength, but in momentum.
Time, now, was on his side.
It was ironic, really.
The Hagumi clan had suffered near-extinction precisely because they'd once tried to hold their ground.
Now, reduced to wandering exiles, stripped of their home, they'd become something else—
unbound, elusive, impossible to pin down.
By repelling this assault, they'd forced the enemy to lose their trail entirely.
Finding the remnants of the Hagumi clan again would not be easy.
"Don't be too pessimistic," Genshin said as he dressed Ryunosuke's wounds, his tone even.
"Even if we cross paths with the Tsugawa clan again—if battle becomes unavoidable—who's to say the outcome will be the same?"
Isagawa came closer, hearing that, and chuckled faintly.
"You're right. Maybe we shouldn't worry so much. For all we know, the Tsugawa clan could be wiped out by someone else before we meet again."
Genshin turned to look at him, expression unreadable, biting back the urge to retort.
That's not what I meant, he thought. I said we'll survive by our own strength—not by luck.
Still… he couldn't deny the possibility.
In this era, the fall of a clan was a daily occurrence.
A mid-sized shinobi family could thrive one day, and be nothing but ashes the next.
Once he'd stopped Ryunosuke's bleeding, Genshin tended to his own shoulder wound.
After a short rest, the three of them regrouped and set out to find the rest of their kin.
Truth be told, the remaining Hagumi shinobi were in no state to defend themselves.
Forget enemy ninjas—even a wild beast could wipe them out at this point.
Fortunately, luck hadn't turned that cruel yet.
They soon found the others hidden deep within the forest, shaken but alive.
After a brief explanation of what had transpired, the group moved out once again—
heading away from this place, in whatever direction fate allowed.
The exact path didn't matter.
What mattered was leaving—and living to see another day.