The gates of Sunagakure slowly closed behind them, cutting off the unease and hope within. Leading this force of fewer than a hundred—yet carrying the entire Village's hopes—Sayo plunged into the endless sea of sand.
A scorching sun hung overhead, roasting the desert; the air shimmered with heat. The column marched in silence, broken only by footfalls, the mechanical clatter of camel-puppets, and the hiss of sand against ninja gear.
Sayo stood at the front, ramrod-straight. Barely thirteen, tempered by war and the ceaseless forging of the body tempering furnace, he had shed all boyish softness. Though not bulky, his frame was balanced and iron-hard, exuding a quiet, honed power. Continuous battles and grueling hospital shifts hadn't broken him; under the pocket body cultivation furnace's gentle 24-hour nourishment, his condition edged toward its peak.
He closed his eyes slightly, feeling the torrent within. Elite-Jonin-level Chakra surged like a mighty river, ready at a thought. The mysteries of wind and earth natures, of form and flow, were engraved in his mind; with a flick he could unleash A-rank Ninjutsu. Magnet Release obeyed him like an arm, every metallic grain beneath the sand singing in resonance. And the Puppet Technique, honed for ten relentless years, was no longer mere skill but an extension of body and will.
Such was his power now. The defeat at Kikyō Mountain had been the Village's shame, not his personal end; rather, that rout had hammered him tougher than ever.
"Speed up!" Sayo's voice wasn't loud, yet reached every ear. "Those Kirigakure bastards won't wait for us to form ranks!"
The column surged faster.
With a thought, Sayo summoned his newest full-scale humanoid puppet—mirage—from a storage scroll.
"Bzzt—"
A deep hum unlike any traditional puppet gears sounded. The sleek, silver-grey humanoid rose, wing-like magnetic levitation arrays on its back glowing softly with Chakra. Refined after the Kikyō carnage, mirage now looked calmer, deadlier; shoulder weapon ports and massive puppet arms glinted coldly.
Sayo leapt lightly onto mirage's shoulder. Ten Chakra Threads flashed into place—not physical strings but denser, invisible conduits fused with his vast mental force, letting him guide the puppet as deftly as his own limbs.
mirage accelerated without sound, overtaking the column to become its spear-tip. Gliding a few meters above ground, it served as command center and strongest striking point. Sayo stood atop, black hair whipping, gaze sharp as a hawk's, sweeping for any enemy sign.
His perception spread to the limit. Bolstered by two lifetimes of mental strength and a budding sense of Natural Energy—thanks to the god tree fragment-upgraded core—an invisible sphere formed around him. The drift of grains, distant eddies of air, even faint reactions from buried metal veins, all fed back into his mind.
"Three kilometers left-front, behind the dune: faint Chakra signature, roughly one squad, hiding." His words pulsed through minor Chakra vibrations straight to the Vice-Captain's ear.
The Vice-Captain started—he'd sensed nothing—but trust in Sayo was absolute. Hand signs flashed, and a five-man Scout Team peeled away to circle in silence.
Moments later brief screams and clashing jutsu rang out, then silence. The scouts returned, signing "cleared" toward mirage.
The column pressed on; every gaze toward Sayo carried deeper awe. Their young commander's strength, perception, and recon were all terrifying.
Sayo's face stayed calm. He knew this was only the appetizer; the real battle waited on the eastern shoreline.
He lifted his head, as if piercing the sand-curtains to the far east. There, Pakura should already be clashing with the Kirigakure's Ao Unit.
A two-front war, ringed by powerful foes—Sunagakure could not afford another loss.
mirage adjusted course slightly; the platform's Chakra glow brightened. Sayo's eyes were resolute.
This time, he would not let the Village behind him be disgraced. This desert would become the grave of every invader.
"Full speed! Target: East Sea Bay!"