The ANBU shinobi stiffened in surprise.
Hagoromo had detected the enemy—but the ANBU themselves hadn't noticed anything at all. Still, they didn't doubt his words in the slightest. Every shinobi had their own strengths, and as an ANBU operative, he would never underestimate another ninja simply because of age.
Never underestimate any shinobi.
That was the ANBU's first creed. Those who failed to live by it had long since vanished from this world.
"I'll take care of them," the ANBU squad leader said, making a quick judgment.
"No."
Hagoromo continued communicating through hand signs.
"You maintain vigilance. There may be enemies we haven't detected yet. The ones in the forest… I'll handle them."
The ANBU hesitated briefly, then nodded in agreement.
He hadn't forgotten his mission priorities:
First—protect the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki.
Second—protect the medical-nin.
Eliminating enemies wasn't part of his direct orders.
Leaving the attack to Hagoromo alone wasn't because he trusted his combat strength—it was because even if Hagoromo died, it wouldn't matter.
That was the reality.
Unaware of the ANBU's thoughts, Hagoromo swiftly melted into the darkness and moved toward the enemies' position.
In his perception, the four enemies weren't clustered together. Clearly, they were highly cautious while operating within enemy territory—each had hidden in a different location.
That gave Hagoromo the opportunity to eliminate them one by one.
As he advanced, he pulled the white mask down over his face.
It truly was a blank mask—featureless except for two holes for the eyes.
As he walked, Hagoromo began speaking softly.
The night was deep. His voice was low, but with the wind blowing toward the Konoha camp, his words carried clearly.
"The bells of the Gion Monastery toll…"
"Proclaiming the impermanence of all things…"
"The blossoms of the twin sal trees fade…"
"A warning to us—to cut down treachery and tyranny…"
"Good evening, everyone."
"Leaf Village genin—Kamishiro Hagoromo—now entering the battlefield."
Shadows filled the forest, but Hagoromo's eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness.
Silently, he closed to within twenty meters of his first target.
The enemy apparently hadn't realized they were exposed. The shinobi remained completely still in hiding.
"As expected. Not Leaf shinobi."
By the faint moonlight, Hagoromo confirmed that the forehead protector bore no Konoha symbol. That was enough.
He continued to move, carefully widening the angle between himself and the target. Once he reached the base of a tree, he reached into his ninja pouch and withdrew one kunai and three shuriken.
Without hesitation, his wrist snapped.
The three shuriken flew.
In the quiet night, the slicing sound of projectiles was unmistakable—but the darkness itself provided perfect cover. Before the enemy could even determine the direction of the attack, it was already too late.
One shuriken pierced his face.
One severed his throat.
The last buried itself in his chest.
"First," Hagoromo counted silently.
After killing the first enemy, he didn't even look up—he flicked the kunai straight upward.
The second enemy had been hiding in the tree above him.
Drawn by the disturbance, the shinobi instinctively pushed aside branches to check on his comrade. The moment his head emerged, the kunai ended his life.
An inexperienced one.
A veteran would never have acted so rashly.
Hagoromo shifted slightly to the side as—
Thud.
The corpse fell heavily beside him.
"Second."
From their reactions alone, it was clear—these two had been genin. Experienced chūnin or jōnin wouldn't fall so predictably.
That meant among the remaining two, at least one was a jōnin.
Without a jōnin leading them, a team like this could never infiltrate the Land of Fire. A squad made up only of chūnin and genin wouldn't be infiltration—it would be suicide.
"One jōnin… or two?"
In Hagoromo's perception, despite hearing the commotion that suggested their comrades were already dead, the remaining two didn't move.
They stayed put.
"Good judgment," Hagoromo thought.
"In situations like this, reckless movement gets you killed. Darkness favors both sides…"
"…But only when there's no sensory-type ninja involved."
At this point, Hagoromo no longer bothered to conceal himself.
Brilliant lightning chakra erupted in his palm, accompanied by a piercing screech that instantly exposed his position.
In the darkness, he stood out like a target.
Almost simultaneously, several shuriken flew toward him—
Too late.
The moment he activated Chidori Current, his speed surged to four or five times its normal level.
Hagoromo's body left behind afterimages as he dashed to another tree. His lightning-charged hand slammed straight into the trunk!
The Lightning Release pierced effortlessly through the tree—over forty centimeters in diameter—and continued straight through the heart of the shinobi hiding behind it.
Hagoromo's entire arm sank into the trunk. The lightning scorched the wood into charcoal, yet his fingertips felt something wet.
The air filled with the smell of blood.
He knew his hand had pierced through the enemy's body.
But he wasn't satisfied.
"…Missed?"
Hagoromo frowned.
He had intended that lightning strike to take out the enemy jōnin. But judging by the minimal displacement—only a few centimeters—this wasn't the reaction of a jōnin. A true jōnin should have been able to shift enough to avoid a fatal hit, even in that split second.
In a flash like lightning, a jōnin could manage that much.
Two genin.
One chūnin.
Hagoromo didn't relax in the slightest.
He knew—the enemy jōnin was about to move.
Seeing Hagoromo's arm embedded in the tree, temporarily unable to withdraw, the jōnin would seize this moment without hesitation.
And sure enough—
A long blade stabbed down from above, aiming straight for Hagoromo's head!
Perhaps the jōnin had deliberately allowed the chūnin to die in exchange for killing this unknown enemy.
This opening was intentionally created by Hagoromo.
How could he not seize it?
To be honest, he had no confidence in fighting a jōnin head-on.
But within a trap of his own making…
Killing a jōnin was not impossible.
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