Chapter 36: Thorns in the Night
Swish!
A figure blurred through the canopy, leaping from branch to branch with desperate speed.
Yamato—Root operative 'A'—had barely returned to base after the 'assisted defection of Orochimaru' mission before Danzo's new orders sent him back into the field. Exhaustion was a constant companion, but complaint was not in his vocabulary.
He skidded to a halt on a thick branch, scanning the surrounding gloom. Satisfied he was alone, he unrolled a map. "Should be… here."
The sky above was streaked with the fiery red of dusk. He felt for the signal flare at his belt. Aiming for a gap in the leaves, he fired.
Whoosh—BANG!
Orange smoke streaked into the sky, exploding in a bright, silent flower of light.
In the distance, several Root ninja, lying in wait in the last known location of their target, saw the bloom. One responded in kind, firing his own flare to mark their position.
After confirming the direction, Yamato adjusted his animal mask and set off.
By the time he linked up with the other Root operatives, full night had fallen, a velvet blackness broken only by slivers of starlight.
Hidden in that same darkness, Momiji opened his golden eyes. He hadn't moved. He wasn't deaf.
The two signal flares hadn't escaped his notice. Trouble. Previously, he'd sensed two separate tracking parties: the Hokage's Anbu, and another, more shadowy group in similar but distinct attire. This new flare felt like the second group calling in reinforcements.
Based on his earth-sense through the Blood Thorns he'd pre-buried at dawn—a standard precaution—he counted four chunin-level signatures nearby. And now… a fifth. The new arrival's life-force didn't feel overwhelmingly powerful, but it was distinct. The four chunin had repositioned, forming a protective perimeter around the fifth.
Strange. Their mission is to capture me, isn't it?
He'd been careful. He'd only shown a fraction of his power—the thorns—to the few Konoha ninja he'd encountered, and he'd always chosen battles he could end quickly. His immortality remained a secret. He had no prior connection to Konoha.
So why send a 'specialist'? What did they know, or think they knew?
Curiosity warred with caution. To find out… he had to engage.
A decision crystallized.
"Blood Demon Art: Crimson Bramble."
It was as if a silent engine roared to life. The vast network of Blood Thorns he'd seeded deep in the soil during the day suddenly moved. They churned, expanded, surged upward like crimson serpents awakening from a long slumber.
On the trees, the four Root chunin felt the trunks beneath them tremble. Not the wind. The ground.
"Below! Watch the ground!" one hissed.
Too late.
Thick, barbed vines of living blood erupted from the forest floor. In seconds, the earth was a seething, crimson carpet. Worse, the thorns began coiling up the tree trunks, climbing with terrifying purpose toward the hidden ninja.
"It's an ambush! He knew we were here!" Another operative was aghast. They'd detected no chakra, no preparation.
What they didn't realize was this wasn't a trap laid specifically for them. It was Momiji's standard operating procedure—burying a vast, dormant thorn-field each dawn to serve as both an early warning sensor and, when needed, an instant weapon.
One of the faster Root ninja reacted. Hands flew through seals. "Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
A roaring sphere of flame shot from his mouth, engulfing a wide swath of the thorns below. The intense heat liquefied them instantly, clearing a charred circle.
But the victory was brief. From the edges of the scorched earth, new thorns wriggled forth, beginning to reclaim the space. The regrowth was slower, though—noticeably hampered.
Fire Release. Annoying, Momiji thought, his lips thinning. The sheer mass and speed of his thorns could overwhelm these chunin. But if they systematically burned through his pre-positioned reserves… his advantage would evaporate.
He had to end this fast. Target the specialist first, the one they were protecting. Break their coordination.
His golden eyes narrowed, fixing on the life-signature at the center of the protective ring. The thorns responded to his will, surging with renewed ferocity toward the trees holding the fire-wielder and his comrades, while a separate, thicker wave arrowed directly toward the heart of the formation—where Yamato stood, calmly assessing the chaos.
The hunt had flipped. The prey was now the hunter, and the forest itself had become his weapon. The night air filled with the wet, tearing sound of growing thorns and the sharp cries of ambushed shinobi.
✨Enjoying the story? You can support me on Patreon —
Patreon.com/MizuSan
✨ Patreon members get early chapter access, bonus content! 🥰
🎉 Plus, I'll release 1 extra chapter for every 5 reviews!💎 Or grab 1 bonus chapter for every 50 Power Stones you send my way! 🥳
🌊 Let's reach 20 Patreon members to unlock 5 extra chapters together!