Samaru walked silently to Benta's side, a look of shared sorrow in his eyes, and pressed his hand firmly on the other party's shoulder—a form of understanding that needed no words. He understood his experience and his current feelings.
"S-so that's what happened... Truly... truly..."
The other three companions who hadn't suffered such persecution looked at each other, speechless, but secretly felt lucky that they were average-looking. They would never admit they were ugly, after all, someone like their boss Shichikon was the true ugly man.
From this perspective, Yako's criteria for picking 'targets' probably had a lot to do with appearance.
If that were the case, the victims were likely far more than just these two.
In this bandit group, many others had probably fallen victim to him.
The scene fell into a strange silence for a moment, with awkwardness and oppression filling the air. The few who hadn't experienced it didn't know how to comfort these two poor young men and could only silently look away.
Just at the moment when this silence almost solidified—
Boom!
A dull thud suddenly sounded from the thick wall, followed by the ear-piercing noise of stone walls cracking.
"Reinforce it, quickly! There's something outside..."
Gobta reacted extremely quickly, but his roar was completely swallowed by a series of deafening booms.
The thick wall shattered under an invisible force, and in the blink of an eye, a hideous crack was torn open in the wall.
Splintered wood and dust scattered, and Gobta and the others instinctively raised their hands to shield themselves.
Everything happened too fast, giving them no time to form hand seals and perform techniques.
A mass of wreckage wrapped in a faint blue halo smashed violently into the densest part of the crowd inside the fortress, immediately triggering a wave of shrill screams.
Thick dust surged like a tide, instantly swallowing more than half of the fortress.
"Cough, cough..."
Bursts of suppressed coughing sounded from the dust.
But the chaos did not last long. As the dust settled and vision cleared, Konoha ninjas had already entered one after another through the breach like ghosts.
The moment the ninjas from both sides met, Kunai and blades flashed with cold light. Without any nonsense, the slaughter broke out instantly.
However, the difference in the number of ninjas was simply too great. Even if Gobta and the others fought to the death, even performing beyond their usual abilities, they still couldn't turn the tide of defeat.
After just a few exchanges, they were suppressed, their heads pinned firmly into the cold mud, unable to move.
Mamoru stood outside the combat circle with his arms crossed from beginning to end, watching coldly with no intention of intervening.
The battle here started suddenly and ended quickly. By the time the surviving ordinary bandits finally noticed something was wrong, everything had already settled.
There were still a few fierce bandits who refused to accept their fate and tried to resist, but they were powerless before the absolute strength of the ninjas and were quickly and cleanly suppressed.
—
Dawn was just breaking, the sun had not yet risen, and the eastern horizon was already turning pale.
Muomu Mountain was shrouded in the early morning mist, the air in the forest was moist and cold, and the dewdrops hanging on the tree branches were crystal clear, occasionally dripping to the ground with a faint sound.
In the open space of the fortress, a dark mass of ragged bandits crouched. They were all dejected, some with scars on their faces, shivering in the morning mist.
"Slowly! Walk faster!" A Konoha Chunin shouted sternly.
"I'm talking to you, stay down!" Another Chunin lightly kicked a restless bandit. "If you move again, see how I deal with you."
"What are you two whispering about?" Another shout rang out. "Both of you shut up, do you hear me?"
The Chunin of Konoha patrolled warily. The moment they spotted bandits acting up, they barked a warning.
"We're dragging all of them back?" Mamoru yawned, rubbing sleep-starved eyes.
One sleepless night was nothing to him, but fatigue still nipped at his bones.
Yuya said, gaze sweeping the bandits, "Mm. Every last one marches back. Not one missing."
Mamoru's lips curved in a ghost of a smile. "Why bother? Kill the lot and be done."
His voice was soft, the chill in it sharp enough to cut. "They deserve death, why leave them breathing?"
Yuya blinked, turning to Mamoru. In the pale dawn, Mamoru's icy stare held a cruelty far beyond his years, and a shiver crawled up Yuya's spine.
Yuya said carefully, "If we can help it, take them alive. Once they're back, the daimyo will pass sentence and the law will carry out the rest."
Mamoru only curled his lip.
What a pain.
If the Anbu handled this, they'd have slaughtered them all without a second thought.
"You've room in Konoha's prison for this many?" He asked, surveying the dark mass of captives.
"No." Yuya rubbed his chin.
"The village cells are for ninja criminals. Common felons go to the daimyo's people."
"Got it."
A familiar shout drifted down the mountain road.
"Oi! Mamoru!"
Daichi, Teruhito and Yoko appeared on the winding path, hurrying forward, their steps sending birds bursting into the brightening sky.
Behind them came more figures. A Chunin supported a wounded man, pale but alert, limping along.
Teruhito bustled up, round face creased with worry. "Where'd you vanish to? We thought the bandits nabbed you."
Yoko elbowed past him, gesticulating wildly, "Yeah. You disappeared without a word, we were scared stiff."
Daichi stood aloof, arms folded, apparently indifferent, yet his eyes lingered on Mamoru longer than usual.
Mamoru arched a brow, grinning. "You think some scruffy thugs could catch me? I'd be the one catching them."
Miki stepped up, studying him. "The corpse you brought back is Shichikon, right?"
He hesitated. "You took him on alone, what of his men? Was he the only ninja among them?"
"One more—Genjutsu user." Mamoru's tone was flat. "I killed them all."
"K-killed them all?" Miki froze, then blurted, "Every last one?"
Mamoru nodded, breeze stirring his fringe, eyes unblinking.
"How many? How'd you wipe them out at once?" Miki's voice rose.
Mamoru glanced at the crouching prisoners. "Never counted—plenty. About as many as we've got here."
He hadn't counted—too many to count.
Such bloodlust!
Miki gulped.
Mamoru spoke of slaughter as if it were nothing, his steel-cold resolve was far from ordinary.
Dawn light slid across Mamoru's calm profile, and Miki thought, 'The Anbu will want him.'
Miki ordered his men to bind the bandits' arms behind them with hemp rope, knotting it cruelly tight.
The cords bit deep and muffled groans rose as the last knot cinched. Ready at last, the party started down the slope.