Chapter 63: After the Battle
Whoosh...
Ryuzen didn't even have the energy to reflect on the slash he had just unleashed.
Instead, he collapsed onto the bone forest—now reduced to white rubble resembling snow—and closed his eyes, consciousness already fading.
That single sword stroke had transcended his limits.
The Breath of All Things didn't consume physical energy. It wasn't like chakra that drained with use. But capturing the breath required something else entirely—intense concentration, extreme focus, the kind of mental effort that exhausted the spirit itself.
A swordsman could hear the breath of all things. But that breath shifted constantly, changing positions every second. To cut, one had to seize the exact moment, strike the precise point where breath manifested.
That required total concentration.
The slash he had just performed—the one that carved through bone forest, grassland, forest, and mountain—had demanded everything from him. His mind felt hollowed out. His body trembled uncontrollably, the aftermath of death's proximity leaving him shaking. Even raising his right hand seemed impossible; his nerves refused to respond, and if he somehow managed to lift it, it would feel weighted down by boulders.
All Ryuzen wanted now was to sleep.
If someone came to kill him at this moment, their success rate would be absolute. One hundred percent.
His eyes closed. He couldn't tell if he was truly asleep or somewhere in between. His consciousness felt locked in a dark space where images flashed continuously—memories of his childhood, of learning the sword.
Coming to this strange world. Rejecting everything at first.
No excitement at discovering superpowers. No confidence from knowing the plot. Only ordinary panic and despair.
Until that day. Walking dejectedly through the woods. Three children bullying a little girl. Rushing out, venting his resentment at fate—and finally, the darkness that had enveloped him broke apart, illuminated by belated dawn.
Training. Day after day. Sword practice without end.
At first, training to survive. Then training with determination to become strong. Finally... falling in love with the sword itself. Becoming obsessed with the power of the slash.
He loved the feeling of swinging a blade.
He loved the feeling of hearing everything breathe.
He loved the feeling of cutting.
He loved the feeling of severing all things—including the human body.
How wonderful that feeling was.
"Ryuzen-kun... Ryuzen-kun..."
He didn't know how long he had slept. The familiar gentle voice broke through his consciousness, and slowly, he opened his eyes.
"Hinata..."
Her beautiful face filled his vision, tired but relieved. A gentle smile touched his lips.
Hinata cradled his head lovingly, her small hands gently caressing his face. "Ryuzen-kun... are you alright?"
Behind her, a large group had gathered—led by Nara Shikamaru.
Shikamaru carried the severely injured Akimichi Chōji. Aburame Shino carried the badly wounded Hyūga Neji. Inuzuka Kiba supported an exhausted Uzumaki Naruto. Gaara's team stood nearby.
All of them stared at the bone forest reduced to snow-like rubble. At the flattened forest beyond the grassland. At the mountain in the distance, now bearing a massive scar across its face.
Shock filled every expression.
This terrain hadn't been formed naturally. It had been cut. As if a hundred-meter giant had swung a hundred-meter blade.
They didn't believe in gods. This was obviously the aftermath of large-scale ninjutsu. Sword techniques with power reaching S-rank forbidden levels.
And among them, only one person could have done this.
For the first time, Nara Shikamaru and the others—who had been classmates with Ryuzen for six years—saw the top student in such a pathetic state. Collapsed. Exhausted. Unable to move.
What kind of enemy did he fight?
The question echoed silently in their minds.
"Hinata... carry me."
Ryuzen's arms wrapped around her waist. Without any trace of masculine pride, he rested his head against her chest, voice lazy and worn.
Hinata's heart swelled at his dependence. "Of course, Ryuzen-kun. Rest now."
He cooperated as she shifted him onto her back, breathing in her natural fragrance. "Please, Hinata."
"Shino. Let's go."
Hinata straightened with Ryuzen on her back, nodded to Shikamaru and the others, then looked at Aburame Shino.
Shino nodded silently, Neji secured on his own back. Together, the two of them started back along the path they had come.
Shikamaru organized the others to follow.
But their expressions all carried shadows.
Shikamaru blamed himself for the injuries his teammates had suffered. Naruto blamed himself for failing to bring Sasuke back.
The mission had failed.
The group of eleven began their return journey.
Partway there, Gaara's team said their goodbyes to Naruto and departed on their own path.
Half a day later, the remaining nine encountered Kakashi coming to meet them.
The jōnin's usually lazy eyes showed genuine distress as he took in their low morale and battered bodies.
After returning to the village, Ryuzen, Neji, and Chōji remained unconscious.
Kakashi and Shikamaru first delivered Neji and Chōji to the hospital. Others with minor injuries received treatment there as well.
Hinata carried Ryuzen home.
She laid him gently on the bed, her fingers tracing his brow with concern. Then she went to the bathroom, fetched a basin of warm water, and began gently wiping his body with a towel.
Ryuzen's kimono had its self-cleaning property, so the work was simple. But when she reached certain areas, her hands touched things that made her face flush crimson.
Suppressing her shyness and the strange ache that accompanied it, she finished her task, disposed of the water, and returned to his side.
Sitting beside him, she activated her Gentle Fist training—not to attack, but to heal. Her fingers pressed and kneaded his hands and feet, working to relieve his physical fatigue.
Time passed. Outside, night deepened.
Hinata didn't know how many hours she continued. Eventually, her eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. She lay down beside Ryuzen and fell asleep.
Seventeen-day moonlight streamed through the window, falling like silver sand across their faces.
Handsome features. Beautiful features. Both peaceful in slumber.
Their breathing and heartbeats seemed to synchronize in the quiet night.
The atmosphere was still and warm.
For this moment, nothing else mattered.
✨If you're enjoying this story, consider supporting me on Patreon —
Patreon.com/TofuChan
Where you can read Extra Advance Chaters
Bonus Chapter For Every 100 Power Stones
Lets hit the goal of 300 Patreon Members now for 5 Extra Chapters 💕