Qingshan Gorge stretched wide and jagged, a natural trap carved into the southeastern edge of the Fire Country. Amamiya Raizen led the convoy of supplies toward the Hana-shaped Clan, his eyes scanning every shadow and crevice. Even in peace, his instincts screamed that this canyon was too perfect—not for beauty, but for murder.
At both entrances, figures on horseback waited, dark cloaks billowing in the wind. One of them knelt sharply, head bowed.
"Master Sōjō, the Amamiya forces will enter the gorge soon," the ninja reported.
Sōjō's lips curved into a predatory grin, eyes gleaming like sharpened steel.
Sōjō was a Jōnin of the Kaguya Clan, part of their elite strike force. War ran in his veins, and today he was hungrier than ever. The alliance of the Amamiya, Daitō, and Hana-shaped Clans had lit a fire in him he couldn't ignore. "The Amamiya fools think they can challenge Kaguya? Let them come," he muttered, his voice low but lethal. "We'll take everything—supplies, pride, and lives."
A junior Kaguya ninja hesitated. "Master Sōjō… should we at least hide our identity?"
Sōjō laughed, a sharp sound that cut through the canyon wind. "Hide? No. Let them see us. Let them know the cost of defiance."
A woman at his side, mid-forties but still formidable, winked at Sōjō and nodded. "He knows what he's doing. Don't argue, Yosuke."
Yosuke gritted his teeth but said nothing. Sōjō's reputation as a bloodthirsty genius left little room for debate.
Meanwhile, Raizen's convoy crawled into the gorge. He halted the carts and dismounted, scanning the sheer rock faces and winding paths. Ambush written all over it.
"Check ahead," he told Amamiya Qingxin, who shot forward like a bolt of black lightning. But before she could go far, shadows moved—the Kaguya force had arrived.
"Hold position! Protect the supplies!" Raizen barked, his hand already forming seals. These weren't just crates of food or armor; they were the fragile backbone of an alliance that could resist the Kaguya clan's domination.
A cold, bloodthirsty voice called out: "Who dares enter Kaguya territory?"
"Who are we? You'll see soon enough!" Sōjō stepped forward, the epitome of lethal calm. "I am Sōjō of the Kaguya Clan. And you… are about to die."
Raizen's smirk was faint, almost amused. He reached into his bag, pulled out Flying Thunder God Kunai, and vanished into a blur.
"Huh!" Sōjō sneered, stretching a palm to summon bone spurs that shot up like deadly arrows, intercepting the thrown kunai. "Pathetic!"
Before he could celebrate, a black figure materialized beside him—Raizen, who had just teleported with the kunai, now reappearing behind Sōjō, hand twisting into a Rasengan.
Sōjō roared, summoning a bone shield in front and behind him, spines bristling like a living hedgehog. Raizen adjusted midair, retracting the Rasengan, disappearing again.
"Coward," Sōjō muttered, disdain flickering across his features. But then Raizen reappeared—this time bigger, faster, the Rasengan spinning violently in his palm.
"Master Sōjō, watch out!" the surrounding Kaguya ninjas cried in alarm.
Before Sōjō could react, Raizen slammed the Rasengan into him from behind. The impact sent Sōjō flying, crashing to the canyon floor, twitching before finally lying still.
Raizen stood over him, a grin of sharp amusement cutting across his face. "Thought you were untouchable, huh? Guess not."
The remaining Kaguya ninjas froze, fear rippling through the elite strike force. One thing was clear: today, Raizen wasn't just escorting supplies—he was rewriting the rules of engagement.