Perched silently in the shadows of the treetops, a Hidden Cloud chūnin scout stood watch, lulled into complacency by the uneventful nights that had come before. For just a moment, his attention wavered.
That fleeting lapse was all it took.
One of the Root jōnin assigned to this operation emerged from the darkness behind him without a sound.
With surgical precision, the Root shinobi drew his kunai across the Cloud ninja's throat, muffling his cry with a hand as warm blood spilled. He silently noted the kill.
"One."
Where there was one, more followed. Within moments, the entire network of Hidden Cloud sentries around the encampment had been eliminated by the Root assassins.
When it came to silent takedowns, no one rivaled the operatives under Danzo Shimura's direct command. They were trained killers—efficient, disciplined, and utterly untraceable.
Eliminating the Cloud scouts without raising a single alarm was routine for them.
Inside the Hidden Cloud encampment, seated by a flickering fire, Renchi Furuyama peered into the encroaching blackness. A growing sense of unease gnawed at him. Finally, he broke the silence.
"Laki... do you feel it too?"
Renchi wasn't alone in sensing the shift in the air. Laki, along with three other Cloud jōnin, shared the same instinct: something was watching them. Something was coming.
Just as Laki turned to answer, his eyes caught the unmistakable glint of steel hurtling toward them from the darkness.
"Enemy attack—!" he shouted, horror lacing his voice.
Shff! Shff! Shff! Shff!
A torrent of shuriken whistled out of the shadows, showering the fire-lit camp in a deadly storm of steel.
It was a wide-area assault, indiscriminate in its target. Survival depended solely on reflexes, skill, or sheer luck.
Laki reacted instantly, drawing a kunai to deflect and evade the incoming barrage. Renchi and the other jōnin mirrored his movements, narrowly avoiding the rain of steel.
Nearby, Roy and Darui had also acted fast, diving behind a cart that shielded them from the worst of the attack.
But not everyone was so fortunate.
Near the perimeter bonfires, Cloud shinobi and prestigious figures from the Land of Lightning—along with their common retainers—were less prepared. Screams pierced the night as Root's shuriken found their marks. Many fell before they could even stand.
"Aaaah!"
"No—ahhh!"
And that was only the beginning.
The initial shuriken volley was merely the first wave of the Root attack. What followed was coordinated ninjutsu bombardment.
"Fire Release: Great Flame Bullet!"
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
Wind fueled the fire.
Already deadly, the Great Flame Bullet amplified by Wind Release tore through the camp with heightened speed and ferocity.
BOOM!
BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions lit up the encampment, engulfing tents, carts, and anyone unfortunate enough to be near them. The combined jutsu decimated the remaining nobles and guards, leaving nothing but scorched earth in their wake.
Of what had been a contingent of nearly a hundred, only fourteen Hidden Cloud shinobi remained standing—five jōnin, including Renchi Furuyama and Laki, and nine chūnin.
The genin had either perished, fallen unconscious, or were lying on the ground moaning in pain. Roy and Darui were among those rendered unconscious, buried beneath the flaming wreckage of the very cart that had saved them from the first attack.
They had narrowly survived the shuriken volley—only to be caught in the blast radius of the fire-enhanced ninjutsu.
Then came the third wave.
From the veil of darkness, a squad of Root shinobi emerged, each wielding a ninjatō, their faces hidden behind emotionless masks.
At the head of the charge: Chitora, a wind-style specialist whose code name meant Earth Tiger.
With swift, silent brutality, they surged toward the surviving Cloud shinobi.
"Who are you?! How dare you attack the Hidden Cloud!" Laki barked, eyes narrowing as he struggled to identify their assailants beneath their masks.
No answer came.
Only cold steel.
"That's Wind Release chakra—this is bad…" Renchi muttered, eyes locking on the chakra-wrapped blade in Chitora's grip. The edge shimmered with lethal intent.
Of the Five Basic Natures, Wind Release held a natural advantage over Lightning Release—Renchi knew this. And it confirmed his worst fear:
They came prepared.
He wasn't wrong.
Each of the 150 Root shinobi in this operation had been personally selected by Danzo Shimura. All were adept in Wind, Fire, or Lightning Release.
And by design, Wind-style specialists made up the majority. There wasn't a single Earth-style user among them—Danzo had deliberately excluded any who would be weak to Lightning Release. Even Water-style users had been left out.
This was a tactical, premeditated ambush.
And Chitora was one of their deadliest—an elite among Root's Wind-style swordmasters.
"Swish!"
"Poof!"
Chitora's blade slashed through Renchi's form—but it was only a log, a result of the Substitution Jutsu.
"Lightning Release: False Darkness!"
Revealing himself in the aftermath, Renchi launched a devastating spear of lightning from his fingertips. Chitora's eyes narrowed.
That jutsu… He leapt aside just in time, the blast exploding behind him.
But what he saw in that moment confirmed his suspicions.
Renchi Furuyama was the one who had killed three Root operatives in Konoha.
The expression on Renchi's face shifted as he realized too late: Chitora was merely the vanguard. His real purpose had been to force them out of cover—so that the real kill squad, still hidden in the shadows, could finish the job.
"Fire Release: Great Flame Bullet!"
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
From the darkness, a second wave of fire and wind-enhanced jutsu tore through the battlefield.
Root operatives never relied on fair fights or duels.
They didn't fight to test strength.
They fought to complete the mission—by any means necessary.
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