Up to this point, the system's civilian-related reward option still hadn't triggered for Arata.
And before that reward landed in his hands, he couldn't let any civilians under his command die—
otherwise, that guaranteed Uchiha Madara bloodline reward would go up in smoke.
...
Far ahead, Shiyan—the jonin rushing toward Arata's last known position—felt his chest tighten with worry.
A massive explosion had erupted earlier. He had no idea who caused it, but the scale alone was enough to make him fear the worst.
If it came from Arata's enemies, then Arata might already be dead.
And if Arata had fallen, no matter how fast Ishigane ran, he'd only arrive to find a corpse.
For the first time, he resented being born a civilian. His speed could never compare to that of clan-raised shinobi.
"Arata-sama… please, don't let anything happen to you…"
Suddenly—
A shadow flickered across the path ahead.
A masked shinobi dressed in a black hooded cloak landed directly in front of him.
The Konoha forehead protector was unmistakable.
Shiyan's eyes lit up.
"An ANBU elite! Perfect timing! Arata-sama is fighting just ahead—please alert the Hokage for reinforcements!"
He still didn't realize what was actually happening.
Seeing ANBU usually meant the Hokage was nearby—they were his personal guard, especially during wartime.
The masked ANBU ninja looked at Shiyan's earnest, clueless face.
Given his behavior and gear, he was clearly a civilian-born jonin serving under Arata.
And the ANBU had been given one simple order:
No one—enemy or ally—is allowed to approach. Anyone resisting may be killed on sight.
"There's no Arata ahead," the ANBU replied coolly.
"That fight has nothing to do with your unit. Return."
He showed mercy only because Shiyan was from the same village.
But Shiyan instantly panicked.
"What are you talking about?! Arata-sama is right there on the battlefield! What are you ANBU even thinking!?"
He tried to push past the ANBU.
The masked ninja merely shook his head.
"Seeking death…"
He unsheathed the blade on his back and vanished in a blur—
a Body Flicker so fast Shiyan couldn't track it.
The Body Flicker was a high-grade speed technique, usually only mastered by major clans.
Civilians needed years of war achievements to even purchase the training scroll.
Against such speed, a civilian jonin stood no chance.
Shiyan attempted a substitution jutsu, but the ANBU's blade was already touching his chest before the last seal formed—
—and then, in that split second of life and death—
A thunderclap cracked across the sky.
A flash of lightning shredded the air.
By the time Shiyan's vision refocused, the ANBU who had been about to kill him…
was gone.
Instead, a tall, imposing figure now stood between him and death.
Even though they had only known each other for a few days, Shiyan recognized him instantly.
"Arata-sama!"
He spun around—
And saw the ANBU operative nailed to a tree trunk, his chest blown clean through.
Lightning still danced across his twitching body as blood and foam dripped from his mouth.
He was unmistakably, thoroughly dead—
no one survives a destroyed heart.
Shiyan shuddered.
He had experienced that man's speed firsthand; he hadn't even had the chance to release a proper substitution.
He should've died moments ago.
Yet before Arata, that same ANBU elite hadn't lasted even half a heartbeat.
Arata turned toward him, a sharp glint in his eyes—
one filled with irritation.
Under that terrifying gaze, Shiyan swallowed hard, unable to stop himself from trembling.
People had always said Arata was powerful—
Konoha's "Blue Lightning."
But witnessing it this close…
He finally understood what those words meant.
"Why did you come here?" Arata demanded.
"I told all of you to stay put."
Shiyan straightened up in panic.
"A-Arata-sama! We saw the explosions earlier and feared for your safety! I'm the fastest among the ten jonin, so I came to check your condition!"
Arata stared at him for a moment—
the man's sincerity was obvious.
And to be fair, the battlefield noise earlier had shaken half the region.
Other nations' scouts were probably already on their way.
Still, Shiyan meant well.
Loyalty like that deserved acknowledgment.
"…Fine. Come with me. The battle is over."
Arata absolutely couldn't allow him to approach the former battlefield.
The area would soon be taken over by Sarutobi loyalists, and foreign spies would gather soon enough.
If Shiyan wandered in by mistake, odds were high he'd be killed on the spot.
Arata wasn't about to lose his reward over someone else's recklessness.
"Already over…?" Shiyan muttered, stunned.
"But it sounded like a world-ending fight… that fast?"
He had always heard that Kage-level battles could last days.
And Kumogakure had marched with ten thousand troops—
what could've forced them to retreat so suddenly?
"Arata-sama… did something happen on the Kumogakure side?"
This wasn't exactly a secret; by tomorrow the entire shinobi world would be buzzing with the news.
So Arata didn't bother hiding it.
"Retreat? Yes, they retreated. I took down the Raikage—left him unconscious and bleeding. The Eight-Tails died. If they didn't retreat, they'd be lining up for the afterlife."
Shiyan froze.
He genuinely wondered whether he had misheard.
Arata had faced the Raikage, the Eight-Tails jinchūriki, and the Two-Tails jinchūriki—
three of the strongest fighters in the modern shinobi world.
And Arata casually said:
one dead, one crippled.
Arata noticed his disbelief but didn't bother explaining.
"You'll know tomorrow. Let's move."
He headed toward the temporary encampment.
Shiyan hurried after him, still shaken—
and terrified another ANBU might appear.
But along the way, he couldn't stop staring at Arata's back.
If even half of what Arata said was true…
Then the entire shinobi world was about to be turned upside down.