At the same time, in another stretch of ruined ground not far from Kiyohara's group, two Mist squads were moving quietly under cover of the sea fog.
One of those squads was quite special: it included Terumi Mei—and a young man whose sickly pale face couldn't hide the feverish light in his eyes.
A member of the Kaguya clan: Kaguya Masaru.
"Cough… kh… kh…"
Masaru suddenly covered his mouth, suppressing a rough cough. A faint smear of dark red seeped between his fingers.
He had the characteristic white hair and handsome features of the Kaguya clan, but his eye sockets were sunken and his breathing uneven. It was obvious his body wasn't in good shape.
"Masaru, are you okay?" Mei frowned and asked quietly.
Even in the "Village of the Bloody Mist," she still cared about her comrades.
Masaru waved a hand dismissively, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, a near-manic smile on his lips.
"It's nothing, Mei. Just a small price for gaining power."
His gaze turned toward the thick fog, burning with anticipation.
"Before my life burns out completely, I just want to see how brilliant this world can be. I heard last time you ran into a Konoha shinobi named Kiyohara—and even Ao-senpai went down to him?"
He paused, glancing at Mei with clear interest.
"I couldn't help noticing… after you came back, you barely mentioned the White Fang's son, Kakashi, but you brought up this Kiyohara several times. For you to remember him that strongly… he must be quite an interesting opponent, no?"
His tone was full of a warrior's longing—he wanted nothing more than to burn as brightly as possible in a short life.
Mei saw the fire in his eyes and let out a faint sigh in her heart.
She knew the Kaguya were battle-maniacs. And for those with stronger Shikotsumyaku, the "bloodline disease" was usually worse.
"Enemies ahead. No Byakugan users," their sensory shinobi called out.
As always in shinobi battles: the sensors on both sides found each other first, and decisions followed.
"Use Hiding in Mist Technique," Masaru said.
The sea fog here was already thick. Layering Hidden Mist on top of it would give them even more of an edge.
Two Mist shinobi stepped forward, formed seals, and expelled dense fog.
Whoosh!
It was as if an invisible hand stirred the mist, making it thicker and heavier, cutting visibility down even further.
The disturbance immediately caught Kiyohara's group's attention.
"Damn it, this again!"
On the Konoha side, Genma's brows locked in a frown; his face was all unease.
Last time they'd fought in this kind of fog against Mist-nin, they'd eaten a lot of pain.
"This is trouble," Kakashi muttered, his dead-fish eye tightening.
The Sharingan could see something in the mist—but nowhere near the clarity of a Byakugan. Its effectiveness was sharply reduced.
As everyone's hearts sank, Kiyohara stepped forward.
"Let me handle this."
He walked toward the fog, his back looking small against the swirling white—but impossibly steady.
"Kiyohara!" Rin called out, worry in her voice.
He didn't turn around. He just said loudly:
"My ninja way… is to charge straight ahead."
With that, he reached into his tool pouch.
Ever since last time, he'd been thinking about how not to fight Mist shinobi in their fog on their terms.
Even with future selves at his back, it wouldn't always be convenient.
"Oh? You brought that?" Magnet Kiyohara's spirit floated behind him, chuckling when he saw what Kiyohara pulled out.
In the fog, Masaru used the Kaguya's sensitivity to terrain and killing intent to lock onto Kiyohara's general position.
A flicker of admiration passed through his eyes.
He leaned toward Mei and whispered:
"There are countless so-called 'heroes' in the world, but to walk forward alone at a time like this… is he trying to take us all on by himself? That kind of courage—that's worthy of being my opponent."
He could feel his blood boiling.
Mei, however, frowned even more.
Something about it didn't feel right.
That Kiyohara was absolutely not just some hot-blooded idiot charging in blindly.
"Masaru, be careful. That one probably has a trick up his sleeve—"
Before she could finish, Kiyohara moved.
He didn't do what Masaru had expected—no powerful ninjutsu, no straight charge with his sword.
Instead, he took several dull grey pouches out of his pouch.
Then he swung his arm and hurled the powder inside into the fog around them.
An instant later, his hands flashed through seals.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
The gust he spat out wasn't exceptionally strong—but its range was huge, precisely timed to catch and spread the powder.
It roared forward like a gray dragon, smashing into and swirling through a wide swath of fog.
The grey-white powder mixed with the mist, turning that entire patch into an even more choking, painful zone.
Quicklime.
"Cough! My eyes!"
"What the hell is this?!"
"Careful—that powder's corrosive—no, it's lime! Don't you dare use Water Release on it!"
The fog erupted with panicked shouts, curses, and screams from the Mist shinobi.
Quicklime plus water meant heat and strong alkali.
One careless breath and you paid for it.
"What…?"
Masaru's admiration and excitement froze on his face, replaced by pure bafflement.
He'd heard Mei describe the man as a genius. Strong, tricky, dangerous.
But this…
He was this strong and still used such dirty tricks? What about ninja honor?
Where was the dignity of a genius?
Mei threw up a Water Formation Wall just in time, blocking most of the rolling lime storm.
Even so, seeing the chaos in front of her, she clenched her fists.
That bastard.
On the Konoha side, Kurenai stared wide-eyed.
"…Again… this move again…"
It reminded her immediately of how Kiyohara had dealt with an Iwa jōnin before—same dirty trick.
If Kiyohara ever got a title like Minato's "Yellow Flash," she was pretty sure "Lime Ninja" would fit.
Kakashi's eye narrowed.
The tactic was… not very orthodox. But in this situation, he couldn't deny its effectiveness.
He jumped on the opening at once.
"Now—move!" he shouted.
Genma curled his lip, eyes flicking to Kiyohara's back with a tangled expression.
"This bastard… really is a damn… talented," he muttered.
Rin just let out a breath of relief.
As long as it helped everyone, the methods… well, Kiyohara must have his reasons.
Kiyohara stood at the edge of his own manufactured "lime fog" and listened to the chaos within, eyes calm.
To him, shinobi were assassins—hidden, deceptive, ruthless. Clinging to ideas of "proper" one-on-one duels was just foolishness.
Living—and completing the mission—were what mattered.
He slowly drew his sword, then pulled on a mask like Kakashi's.
The difference was his covered even his eyes, leaving only two lenses to see through.
Alright then.
Time to make money—
No, time to hunt.
~~~
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— Currently You can Read 70 Chapters Ahead of Others!