Next, Asuma Sarutobi let Kawaki Aoba witness what true recklessness looked like.
After downing a bottle of red medicine, Asuma forcibly opened the first five gates of the Eight Inner Gates.
Kawaki Aoba could have sworn he heard bones cracking from the sudden strain.
With the release of the first five gates, Asuma's speed surged to a level surpassing that of an average jōnin.
In just a few breaths, he caught up to the three Xuanyuan Crowd shinobi.
Kawaki Aoba assumed Asuma would rely on explosive tags again—after all, that had been his go-to method for inflicting heavy damage quickly.
And truthfully, they weren't short on explosive tags.
But what Asuma did next caught him completely off guard.
After closing the distance, Asuma's arm morphed into smoke. But unlike the typical white smoke produced by the Smoke Technique he inherited from the Sarutobi Clan, this smoke had darkened to a gray-black hue, flickering with embers and sparks.
Fire Release chakra transformation—Asuma had fused his clan's smoke jutsu with Fire Release nature transformation.
A risky maneuver. It significantly increased the lethality of his smoke-based techniques. But the truth was, Asuma hadn't fully mastered Fire Release chakra transformation. Without the red medicine, the backlash from this technique could've killed him.
Despite the cost, the effect was devastating.
The gray-black smoke, now laced with searing heat, clung to everything it touched. Unlike traditional Fire Release, it could change shape freely, and its range exceeded most jutsu of similar rank.
The swirling, burning smoke enveloped the three Xuanyuan shinobi.
The moment it touched them, the smoke's burning properties ignited. Screams echoed—brief, horrifying wails that were abruptly cut off.
But it wasn't because they had died—yet.
As the smoke engulfed them, it funneled into their bodies through their mouths and noses. Had it been regular smoke, it might've caused temporary suffocation at best.
But this was not ordinary smoke.
This was fire-infused chakra smoke. From within, their bodies were seared. Not "crispy on the outside, tender on the inside"—they were charred inside and out.
Just when it seemed the battle was over, a violent gust tore through the black smoke.
Whoosh!
"A Wind Release technique?!" Asuma gasped.
Before he could react, a spiraling vortex of wind detonated inside the smoke cloud, ripping it apart.
A scorched figure was hurled from within the smoke—the leader of the Xuanyuan Crowd. His face was mostly unrecognizable, burned and blistered beyond recognition.
Only someone at his level could have survived even that much.
Asuma tried to give chase, but his body froze. The smoke retreated, re-condensing into his form. The surging chakra on his body faded—he had released the Eight Gates.
His legs buckled.
Kawaki Aoba dashed forward and caught him, pouring another bottle of red medicine into his mouth just in time.
Asuma had pulled back at the last possible moment. Had he maintained both the unstable Fire chakra transformation and the Five Gates, he wouldn't just be exhausted—he'd be dead.
That form of weaponized smoke was potent, but until Asuma fully mastered Fire Release transformation, he would need to carry more red medicine at all times.
Asuma tried to rise again and pursue the enemy leader, but Kawaki Aoba held him back.
"That's enough, Asuma. You've done more than enough. Don't worry—he's not getting away."
Almost as if to affirm his words, a blur appeared in front of the fleeing enemy.
A whirlwind kick struck the charred leader dead-on. Bones crunched audibly as the man was slammed into the earth, his chest caved in—lifeless.
The one who delivered the finishing blow was none other than their team leader—Yūhi Kurenai.
It was evident she had gone all out. The chakra surge around her hinted at a brief activation of the Eight Inner Gates, a feat few ever attempted.
Kawaki Aoba blinked in disbelief. "Honestly, that guy was already on his last legs… Kurenai-sensei didn't even need to open the Gates."
But he kept that comment to himself.
With that final blow, the remaining threat of the Xuanyuan Crowd was eliminated.
Not long after, other Konoha ninjas arrived—alarmed by the earlier commotion.
Well, they thought they were late. But from Kawaki Aoba's perspective, they showed up just in time.
Had they arrived earlier, one of them might've been infected by the explosive insects. That would've been a nightmare.
"Hiss... these burns... This is worse than being hit by a Fire Release jutsu," one shinobi muttered after examining the remains of the three victims, now charcoal-black.
His eyes flicked toward Asuma—no longer with doubt, but awe.
If he remembered correctly, only Asuma from the so-called "Legendary Squad" had ever shown interest in mastering Fire Release chakra transformation.
Word had already spread—Asuma spent every night with medical-nin, nursing the backlash from his self-destructive training. His progress was no longer a secret.
Some once whispered that Asuma, the Hokage's son, lacked real merit in the Legendary Squad.
But after witnessing the devastation he caused... no one would say that again.
And then there was the last member of the Legendary Squad—Yūhi Kurenai.
If even Asuma wasn't riding on nepotism, then what of her?
Though the Kurama Clan had declined, those who remembered their unique genjutsu feared them still.
Perhaps that's why Kurenai rarely demonstrated her true power around other Leaf ninjas.
Unless necessary... she wouldn't need to.
Whether it was sensory manipulation or the illusion of life, if one paid enough attention, the truth behind it wasn't too hard to uncover.
Unless Yuhi Kurenai's genjutsu became powerful enough to control an entire battlefield—or unless her clan gained undeniable political influence—there would be no need to publicly reveal the Kurama clan's bloodline limit.
Although the ninja of the Xuanyuan lineage were formidable, their reputation in the bounty world hadn't yet reached its peak.
Thus, their ambush would ultimately be remembered as nothing more than a footnote—aside from making the night guards of Konoha more alert, it would not bring any lasting consequence.
Early the next morning, the ninja company continued their journey back to Konoha. No further threats emerged on the final leg of the return.
Before noon, a message arrived ahead of them: the Hokage had summoned the village to gather at the front gate to welcome the returning heroes.
The announcement had been made rather hastily, likely the result of a recent decision among Konoha's higher-ups.
To accommodate the reception, the group slowed their pace, not arriving until just before dusk.
Despite the short notice, the welcoming preparations were thorough. Villagers lined both sides of the main gate, eagerly awaiting the return of their protectors. Even the top officials of the village and representatives of the major clans stood in formal dress, assembled before the gate to receive them.
As Yuhi Shinko led the unit into Konoha, the crowd erupted into cheers.
Through the jubilant shouts, Kawaki Aoba could make out cries of "heroes!", and even vague mentions of "the war is over!" and "a peace agreement!"
Though he knew it had all been orchestrated in advance, Kawaki Aoba couldn't help but feel moved. For the first time in a long while, his efforts on the battlefield seemed to have been recognized.
Then, from amidst the official ranks, Hiruzen Sarutobi stepped forward, flanked by the elders and clan leaders. As the crowd quieted, he approached Yuhi Shinko with a smile that held a trace of sentiment.
"Shinko," Hiruzen said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "your leadership on the frontlines was vital in securing the ceasefire with Iwagakure. Konoha will not forget your contribution."
He then looked out over the assembled ninjas, his gaze steady and proud.
"And all of you—each of you who fought on the battlefield—your efforts will never be forgotten. You are all heroes of this village."
Just then, a voice rose from the crowd.
"Lord Hokage! If we've signed a ceasefire with Iwagakure, why hasn't Commander Shinnosuke returned with you?"
Hiruzen's expression didn't shift. He smiled lightly, replying with practiced ease:
"Though a ceasefire has been reached, the war is not truly over. Two other battlefronts remain active, and caution is still required. Commander Shinnosuke chose to remain—at his own request."
Kawaki Aoba: "…"
He quietly wished the festive atmosphere could've lasted longer. The weight of reality returned too quickly.
Beside him, Asuma hesitated, clearly wanting to speak but ultimately keeping silent. Kawaki Aoba gave his shoulder a comforting pat, his thoughts briefly drifting to Asuma's future.
He now understood why, in the original timeline, Asuma had left Konoha in frustration—seeking a true "King" to serve and eventually becoming one of the Twelve Guardian Ninja.
Their Third Hokage may once have stood as a shining example of a leader during the early years of the war. But now… now he had become something else entirely: a politician. Skilled, experienced—but cautious and bound by bureaucracy.
Perhaps it was this realization that made him choose to nominate a successor after the Third War. But old habits, and old alliances—especially with a certain shadowy elder—prevented him from truly letting go.
He had become a paradox of ideals and compromises.
Another voice rang out from the crowd.
"Lord Hokage! The heroes have returned—but when will the Golden Flash come back?"
The Golden Flash.
Just hearing that title made Kawaki Aoba focus. Clearly, a lot had happened on the other battlefronts while they were away.
Minato Namikaze's reputation had exploded during this war, his terrifying speed turning the tide in multiple engagements. His legend was now common knowledge.
It meant one thing: Minato's path to becoming Hokage had truly begun. It might happen next year—or the year after.
So Aoba had been mistaken before. Shinnosuke Sarutobi—mediocre at best—was merely a placeholder. The real star of this generation was Minato Namikaze. Hiruzen was already laying the groundwork for his rise.
And then… there was Orochimaru.
"So many things have changed…" Aoba muttered.
But then, a sudden chill crawled up his spine.
Someone was watching him—intensely.
He turned slightly and met the piercing gaze of Danzo Shimura.
There was no attempt to hide it. Danzo's one exposed eye bore down on him like a hawk sizing up prey.
Kawaki Aoba frowned. This man's thoughts ran too deep, and his surface expressions revealed nothing.
The intensity of Danzo's focus made it impossible for Aoba to concentrate on Hiruzen's speech. That gaze lingered until the very end of the ceremony.
If he didn't know better, he'd think he'd killed Danzo's entire family in a past life.
With Aoba's current power level, Danzo wasn't a direct threat. But being on his radar was never a good sign.
Aoba made a mental note—when the opportunity came, he needed to figure out what Danzo wanted.
As if fate had heard him, the chance came far sooner than expected.
That same night, after a quiet dinner at the Yuhi residence, Kawaki Aoba returned home—only to find an uninvited guest waiting in the shadows of his courtyard.
One eye. Face wrapped in bandages. Scarred chin. Leaning on a cane.
There was no mistaking him.
Shimura Danzo.
"Elder Danzo," Aoba said, stepping forward calmly. "To what do I owe the honor of a late-night visit to a lowly war hero's home?"
Just one sentence—and Danzo, who had opened his mouth to speak, paused.
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