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Konoha, Year 48, March 15th.
Early morning, 5:20 AM.
The Hidden Mist civil war erupted.
The first places to engage were several granaries located on the outskirts of Hidden Mist Village, followed by the armory, and then the steel factory.
Looking down from a high altitude, Ninja leaped from the eaves like crows, forming an orderly counter-current with the civilians on the streets who were either forcibly or voluntarily fleeing from their homes to various underground shelters.
Neither the Reformist Faction nor the Bloodline Faction laid a hand on these ordinary villagers—even if some of them included members of their enemy's clans.
Most of the bewildered civilians hadn't yet realized what was happening in the Village; many still thought it was another war, or an attack from outside the Village.
Only the more well-informed merchant teams frantically pushed through the crowds towards the Village's outskirts, only to be slaughtered by the Hidden Mist Ninja guarding each exit.
On the empty streets, only shattered horse carriages with missing wheels and steam trucks were left behind, with black smoke rising into the sky visible everywhere, and occasional explosions echoing.
However, all of this was eventually shrouded by the thick mist that perpetually hung over the Village, making everything unclear.
A child, abandoned at a street corner by who knows whom, let out a sharp cry, his small body curled up in front of a cluttered doorway, his eyes swollen and red.
Only when one or two figures swiftly darted across the center of the street would he suddenly stop crying, watching them disappear into the distance.
Then, from afar, he would hear a few short wails, or the suppressed groans of the injured collapsing to the ground.
All of this instilled an instinctive fear in the young, naive child, causing even his initially high-pitched, sharp cries to gradually cease.
It wasn't until several Ninja, clearly dressed in clan-specific attire, leaped over the eaves and saw the child, dressed like a civilian, that a deep-seated loathing inadvertently showed in their eyes.
With just a casual Kunai.
After a dull thud, even that faint breath was extinguished.
"Damn bastard."
Ordinary people living in peaceful times often find it difficult to imagine the extent to which war, even a short-term internal conflict, can warp a person's social role.
Fellow villagers, normally seen everywhere, suddenly change roles; kind and benevolent faces abruptly turn hideous and terrifying; the immediate slaughter, initiated upon sight, proceeds rapidly amidst the dull thuds of cold weapons piercing flesh and blood. Often, in just a few seconds, once-close companions and relatives, during your brief hesitation, transform from lively beings into cold, rigid corpses.
The vast majority of people were passively swept along.
They were engulfed by hatred, by social contradictions, by the threat of life and death, dragged into these crimson battlefields.
The entire Hidden Mist Village, in this short span of time, transformed into a chaotic Asura's realm where you were in me, and I was in you.
"Die!"
A piercing whistle tore through the mist, like a black streak cutting through several meters, outlining a perfect arc, horizontally slicing through the torso of the Terumi Clan Ninja in front.
The Kunai, briefly used to intercept, struggled to resist, but in front of the hard Samehada, it couldn't even hold for a moment.
The refined Kunai, forged from Konoha high-carbon steel, along with his body, was cut into two pieces with a cry of "Nani?!" The spilled blood splattered into the deep white mist, and his intestines, along with a string of organs, were thrown across the ground by the inertia of his upper body.
However, this sudden sound did alarm the two clan companions on the other side. Their nerves taut, they turned their heads back, and one of them decisively threw an explosive tag Kunai.
But Biwa Jūzō's speed was far greater than theirs.
As the user of 'Samehada' among the first generation of 'Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist', he was already a well-known elite Jonin throughout the Hidden Mist Village even before being selected into this assassin group, capable of suppressing most Bloodline Ninja with just his taijutsu.
At this moment, he lightly swatted the Samehada to the side, and the explosive tag Kunai flying through the air was smashed to the other side, exploding in a burst of light and fire in the corner of the warehouse.
As for his figure, he had already approached the second person with a silent step, moving at a speed too fast for an ordinary person to react.
However, that person had already completed the hand signs.
"Boil Release: Steam Melting."
Special Chakra was brewing in his puffed cheeks, but before he could spit it out, Biwa Jūzō had already delivered a kick, smashing into his abdomen with a 'bang', cutting off his voice and causing him to double over.
This perfectly timed action allowed the Samehada, which happened to sweep through the air, to directly cut into the side of his neck.
To an observer, it looked as if he had voluntarily offered his head.
That person's still-puffed head, propelled by internal pressure and spurting blood, flew several meters, and the large splattering of blood briefly obscured the vision of the other two.
But his 'companion' behind him had a ruthless gaze. Even before the other party's Boil Release could be unleashed, the bone blade extending from his arm had already reached his back, clearly intending to eliminate both the Terumi Clan member and Biwa Jūzō at once.
Judging by the bone blade extending from that arm, this was clearly one of the Kaguya remnants who had miraculously escaped last night.
"Pay for my clansmen's lives!!"
He roared like a Lunatic, but was directly splashed crimson by the sudden surge of blood.
However, this certain-kill strike lacked follow-through, and he stumbled, crashing into the headless corpse opposite him.
When the other party looked down, he saw Biwa Jūzō, who had rolled to the ground and swung his blade, his body like a willow leaf, sweeping horizontally along the ground with the Samehada, directly severing his two lower legs.
At this moment, his body unconsciously tilted forward under the impetus of inertia, and intense pain suddenly pierced through his nerves into his mind.
But before the ferocity on his face could turn into fear, the clothing on his back was already pulled up by a great force, and his entire body was flung like a shuriken by this peerless fiend, spinning and smashing into the last companion opposite him.
"Secret Art: Demonic Mirror Ice Shields!"
But compared to the other useless members of his squad, this Yuki clan Ninja was clearly much more composed.
The moment Biwa Jūzō appeared, he had already cast his Ice Release secret art, surrounding the narrow area with mirror-like ice surfaces, and his figure disappeared into the mirrors.
The half-body crashed with a bang, only shattering a few of the foremost mirrors.
Biwa Jūzō was very fast; almost at the same instant that body crashed into the ice, he was about to rush out through the opening—no one would be foolish enough to fight within another person's advantageous range.
However, what that Yuki clan Ninja captured was precisely such a fleeting moment.
"Secret Art: Thousand Flying Water Needles of Death!"
It was but an instant, yet it was also like a trap already set, waiting for the prey to step in.
The moment Biwa Jūzō's figure passed through the opening, he was suddenly enveloped from all directions by dozens of ice needles condensed from water vapor, which rapidly shot into his body.
"Puff, puff, puff—"
That tall, strong body was immediately riddled like a porcupine.
It was only at this moment that the Yuki clan Jonin slowly emerged from within the mirror, sneering as he looked at his corpse:
"The Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist are nothing special."
However, as soon as the corpse fell to the ground, it suddenly turned into a puddle of water.
The Yuki clan Jonin was startled.
Water Clone?!
Almost the instant he realized this, he didn't even turn his head, rushing directly into the nearest mirror.
Then, a large blade was seen quietly blocking his path.
"Puff."
Another two halves of a body fell to the ground.
Biwa Jūzō turned his head, looking towards the armory behind him.
As soon as he had slain the first person, his squad behind him had already rushed through the main gate, engaging in a fierce battle with the clan Ninja stationed inside.
At this moment, inside, there was a continuous clamor of shouts and explosions, and the sounds of shocked and angry roars were rapidly diminishing.
By the time he quickly walked into the armory, more than half of the Bloodline Faction Ninja inside had already been killed.
However, Biwa Jūzō's relaxed expression suddenly became a few shades more serious as he saw the situation inside the armory.
He abruptly pulled up a Bloodline Faction Ninja who was still clinging to life, and shouted, demanding:
"Where are the explosive tags and Kunai here?!"
The Terumi Ninja, who had lost a leg and an arm, was already pale from excessive blood loss.
However, upon hearing his question, a mocking smile slowly appeared on his face.
"Spit!"
He weakly spat a mouthful of blood-laced saliva at the fiend's face.
He missed.
Then, his head was smashed onto the ground, turning into a rotten watermelon mixed with white and red.
"Lord Jūzō!"
Instead, a sensory Ninja beside him gasped and shouted, "Many, many targets are moving towards the Village center!"
"We...?"
Hearing his words, Biwa Jūzō's face instantly darkened further.
Without a word, he immediately turned and headed out the door.
"Go!"
Yagura Karatachi stood on the rooftop of the Mizukage Building, quietly gazing at the smoke rising from various parts of the Village, his expression one of deathly indifference.
Several 'Hidden Mist Anbu' wearing white robes and masks were closely following behind him, also quietly awaiting orders.
Most of his forces had already been dispatched.
At this moment, only he, the highest combat power, remained in the Mizukage Building.
Solely by judging the plumes of explosive smoke rising from the Village's outskirts, Yagura Karatachi could determine that the military factories, steel factories, and warehouses, which were the lifeblood of Hidden Mist Village's military industry, were being desperately contested by both the Reformist Faction and the Bloodline Faction.
They were fighting head-on like samurai and foot soldiers, in a manner completely violating the Ninja's principles of stealth operations.
From early morning until this afternoon, every minute and every second that passed in Hidden Mist Village saw the flowing of a large amount of Mist Ninja blood—the very foundation and potential of this Village.
But at this very moment, Yagura Karatachi calmly watched this viscous blood flow meaninglessly in the civil war with such a cold attitude.
In this short half-day, how many people had already died?
Five thousand? Seven thousand?
Or even more?
He looked at the empty streets, suddenly lost in thought.
Even if he had made countless psychological preparations before this, what did it matter?
Witnessing the scene of him burying Hidden Mist with his own eyes, even a heart as strong as steel would be melted into molten iron by this raging fire.
Suddenly, everyone heard him ask without any preamble:
"Even like this, it's still not enough?"
"Of course."
The next moment, in the 'blank space' that no one around could perceive, a gentle and calm voice entered the ears of everyone present out of thin air.
Uchiha Fugaku's expression suddenly tensed, like a gray rabbit targeted by a hawk.
Only after his brain registered the owner of this voice did a subtle sense of relief inadvertently appear on his face beneath the mask, even looking with a hint of fortune at the figure that had abruptly appeared.
The slender young man stood beside Yagura Karatachi, shoulder to shoulder with him, gazing at the Village shrouded in thin mist, his gentle and indifferent voice sounding incredibly harsh to the Fourth Mizukage.
Sawara Kiri also looked out at the empty streetscape of Hidden Mist Village, saying softly:
"You know very well, Yagura."
"Even for Konoha, swallowing tens of thousands of Ninja in one go is simply too difficult."
"In Konoha's intelligence room, five thousand is considered a relatively suitable number."
Yagura Karatachi jolted as if pricked by a needle, turning his head sharply and growling, "Do you know how many Ninja Hidden Mist has?"
"Around twenty-three thousand two hundred." Sawara Kiri's tone remained flat and unperturbed, "Now it should have dropped to over seventeen thousand."
"The Bloodline Faction's killing efficiency is much higher than yours."
Listening to the rapidly decreasing numbers, even Yagura Karatachi, the willing traitor, felt as if his entire body was on fire, suddenly turning around, taking a step towards him, and standing on tiptoe to grab his collar.
"Let go!"
"What do you want to do?!"
"Yagura!"
Almost the instant he made that move.
All the Hidden Mist Anbu behind Yagura Karatachi moved, pointing their various weapons at him in unison.
However, they stopped in front of Sawara Kiri's raised palm.
Sawara Kiri looked down at him from above, meeting Yagura Karatachi's reddened eyes.
"What do you want to say, Yagura?"
The small young man stared at him intently, every word like weeping blood, suppressing a roar:
"You damned bastard!"
"You clearly have such great power!"
"Why did you do this?!"
"If it were Senju Hashirama back then…"
Sawara Kiri merely looked at him, doing nothing, yet Yagura Karatachi's hand, clutching his collar, was abruptly pushed away by an invisible force, causing him to take a step back.
He still stood there, his gaze soft as he looked at Yagura:
"So Senju Hashirama died."
"His foolish will, along with his dead power, vanished, leaving only this war relic named Konoha."
When his words fell, Yagura Karatachi seemed to be stunned, silently looking at him.
Sawara Kiri had already withdrawn his gaze, taking a step towards the edge of the rooftop, looking at the dense crowd surging like a tide along the central street, and let out a faint sigh.
"Yagura."
"My willingness to place the Hidden Mist's problems in your hands is not out of malice, but rather—"
His voice paused, and when he turned his head again, his originally gentle and soft gaze had transformed into a dead stillness, his voice striking deep into the heart:
"My mercy."
As his words fell, the forms of the dense crowd in the distance gradually became clear.
The ultimate weapon, personally escorted by the Terumi Clan, Hozuki Clan Leader, and Water Moon clan leaders, was pushed to the front of the crowd.
Following them were the most elite troops of the entire Bloodline Faction, who had retreated from the outskirts of Hidden Mist Village.
Everyone eyed the building, which symbolized Hidden Mist's highest authority, with covetous gazes.
"Come out! Yagura!"
The Hozuki Clan Leader stood at the very front, shouting in a nearly contemptuous tone:
"Do you think you can still hide?"
"Now, it's time to end this war!"
Listening to the roar of one of the Bloodline Faction leaders at the front, the Bloodline Ninja behind him all revealed ferocious and savage smiles.
Their entire war strategy was actually quite simple.
First, quickly occupy the surrounding armories to gather weapons, then abandon the option of a long-term battle, quickly gather forces, take advantage of the Innovation Faction's empty center, and with the greatest advantage, first eliminate Yagura Karatachi, the leader, and then take down the entire Hidden Mist in one fell swoop.
The civilian Ninja were merely a disorganized mob united by a few strong individuals; without a leader, they would immediately expose their fragile nature.
Furthermore, just as Yagura Karatachi worried about the excessive depletion of Hidden Mist Village's strength.
While these Bloodline Faction clan leaders didn't care about the lives of civilian Ninja, they cared greatly about their own clansmen; even they couldn't withstand the huge losses brought by a long-term war—especially a head-on confrontation in an open area.
That was simply using lives as bullets to be expended.
Outside Hidden Mist Village, there were still the other four Great Ninja Villages coveting this country.
However, just as he was thinking this, attempting to eliminate the fool Yagura Karatachi as quickly as possible.
The Hozuki Clan Leader's expression, which had originally carried a sneer, suddenly cooled down in an extremely difficult state, his entire facial muscle pattern freezing in place, causing his facial muscles to twitch slightly.
"Tap, tap, tap"
The light footsteps of Ninja shoes on the concrete ground echoed in the ears of the Bloodline Ninja.
More and more people stood frozen, looking at the figure that appeared before them with confusion—this was completely different from the damned dwarf they had expected.
The Hozuki Clan Leader, standing at the very front, watched the figure before him, his pupils involuntarily trembling, and even his voice began to become hoarse.
"You, you, how could…?"
It wasn't just him.
Several high-ranking Bloodline Faction members standing by the cage were all stunned, staring fixedly at that damned, unforgettable face.
"Creak—!"
Instead, Kimimaro, who was confined in the Sealing Technique cage, suddenly looked up, staring intently at the figure with a gaze that was either terrified or threatening.
Sawara Kiri stopped directly in front of them, playing with a metal coin in his hand.
"Clink."
The silvery coin spun in mid-air and fell back into his palm.
Sawara Kiri looked up at them, the corners of his lips curving into a perfect arc, his smile devoid of warmth.
"My apologies."
"This war must continue for a while longer."
"So, would you mind all disappearing for a bit?"
As he spoke, he flicked his thumb, and the coin in his hand spun countless times in mid-air again.
However, unlike before.
At this moment, Sawara Kiri had already turned his body, straightened his arm, and poised his finger to flick.
Fierce, surging, and violent Lightning Release burst forth from his body like a scorching sun, the rapidly rising high temperature and high-density Chakra suddenly condensed into a single point, and a line of bloody and brilliant radiance flashed in his azure eyes.
"Lightning Release: Super Electromagnetic Cannon!"
The Hozuki Clan Leader's pupils almost condensed into a single point, his body moving faster than his brain as he dodged to one side, while simultaneously letting out a sharp shriek, like a crying crow.
"Get out of the way—!!"
His fingertip flicked.
"Boom!!!"
Unimaginable high temperatures erupted instantaneously in the short distance between the young man's fingertip and the silver coin, and the soundless vibration spread in rings, creating a series of continuous vacuum zones in front of his slender figure, as if circles of condensed clouds had suddenly appeared in a straight line for hundreds of meters in front of him.
The dazzling, incandescent metallic gaseous flow was constantly condensed at the center line by the accelerating coils formed by Lightning Release Chakra, yet merely the aftershock of this rapid explosion was enough to tear apart the Ninja's tempered bodies like a road roller over tofu.
Finally, in Yagura Karatachi's eyes, from his vantage point atop the Mizukage building, there remained only a white streak that traversed the entire street, a deep gully left by the tearing of the concrete road, and the red and white splattered along both sides of this gully, like a child spilling paint—even the corpses had been vaporized.
Even the deaths of his enemies, this extreme horror, made him instinctively avert his gaze.
The hundreds or thousands of elite Bloodline Faction Ninja who had been a surging, menacing black tide just a second ago, now only consisted of the lucky few who had been affected but not killed in the shattered ruins on either side.
Most of them hadn't even realized what had happened, merely staring blankly at this scene like a natural disaster, their entire beings seemingly momentarily losing their souls.
These scenes seemed to brand a sense of powerlessness deep into Yagura Karatachi's heart.
He leaned his hands on the rooftop railing, unconsciously murmuring:
"Mercy… is it?"
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