Suddenly, a sharp whistle echoed through the air, and masked figures emerged swiftly and silently from the shadowed trees. Before the villagers could react, one figure raised his hands, rapidly forming intricate seals. "Earth Release: Mud Binding!" he called sharply.
The ground erupted around the snarling beast, thick coils of mud and stone rising rapidly to encircle it, tightening until the creature's roars were muffled into strained, furious snarls. It fought against its restraints, muscles rippling beneath its hide, but the bindings held firm, encasing it tightly and immobilizing its formidable strength.
The villagers stood frozen in shock, exhaustion and confusion written plainly across their faces. Jiro lowered his spear slowly, his eyes narrowing at the unexpected intruders. His wounds throbbed, blood soaking through his bandages, but adrenaline kept him upright. Around him, Masato and Kenji exchanged wary, uncertain glances, gripping their weapons tightly but making no move.
The masked figure who had cast the binding stepped forward, his stance composed, movements deliberate. Even beneath his mask, his presence radiated authority and danger. He stopped a short distance from Jiro, assessing him silently before speaking.
"Your village is safe now," the shinobi stated curtly, his voice muffled slightly by the mask, devoid of any warmth. "We'll handle it from here."
Jiro felt anger ignite in his chest, burning away his exhaustion. He took a deliberate step forward, voice strained yet forceful. "Who are you? And why didn't you come sooner? We lost good men because of that beast!"
The masked shinobi regarded Jiro impassively, unmoved by the accusation. "We arrived precisely when needed. The creature is our concern now."
Masato stepped beside Jiro, eyes blazing with suppressed rage. "Your concern? We've fought this thing for days, watched our friends die! And now you just appear and claim it like some stray dog?"
The masked figure turned slightly, eyes hidden behind the featureless mask. "Your losses are unfortunate but unavoidable. This beast was never yours to defeat."
"What does that mean?" Kenji demanded, his voice breaking with frustration and grief. "People we cared about are dead. Tell us why this thing attacked us, at least!"
The masked shinobi shook his head slightly, unmoved. "That information is unnecessary for you. Forget this encounter. Resume your lives."
Jiro's fists clenched tightly, knuckles turning white. His voice rose, strong despite his injuries. "Unnecessary? Who are you to decide what's necessary for us? People we loved died because you failed your responsibilities! You think you can just appear and take this monster without explanation?"
The masked figure stood motionless, unreadable. Another shinobi stepped forward, his mask bearing a different design, voice colder. "We don't owe you explanations, villager. Return home now."
Jiro's eyes narrowed further, anger overtaking caution. "We have a right to know what attacked our homes and killed our people. You don't get to walk away like heroes. You're responsible for this disaster!"
A tense silence hung heavily in the air, villagers and shinobi locked in mutual animosity. Finally, the first masked shinobi sighed quietly, a subtle gesture of impatience. "You misunderstand your position."
Jiro took another determined step forward, voice shaking with emotion. "We understand well enough. You shinobi play your games, and innocent people suffer. Explain yourselves, or we'll find someone who will."
Without hesitation, the second masked figure moved suddenly, his hand flashing forward almost too quickly to follow. Before anyone could react, a gleaming blade appeared in his grip, and with lethal precision, it plunged into Jiro's chest.
Jiro's eyes widened in shock, his voice cut off abruptly. He staggered back, blood welling rapidly from the fatal wound. Masato and Kenji cried out, rushing to his side, catching him as he collapsed to the muddy earth. Masato knelt quickly, holding Jiro, desperation filling his eyes.
"No, no," Masato whispered urgently, hands shaking as he tried futilely to stop the bleeding. "Hold on, Jiro. Please..."
Jiro's breathing grew shallow, eyes glazing slightly, yet they remained locked defiantly on the masked shinobi. "Cowards," he rasped, voice weakening but full of rage. "You'll never escape this shame."
The masked figure withdrew his blade calmly, wiping it clean with cold indifference. "Your emotions cloud your judgment."
Masato raised grief-stricken eyes, burning with rage. "You murderers!"
The shinobi turned away dismissively, gesturing sharply to his companions. "Secure the beast. Our mission here is complete."
Kenji rose to his feet, grief quickly shifting to fury. "Who are you? Who do you serve?"
The shinobi paused only briefly, glancing over his shoulder. "Who we are is irrelevant. If you value your lives and village, you will not pursue this further. Consider this your final warning."
The villagers stood frozen, trapped between sorrow and fury as the shinobi efficiently secured the beast, wrapping it tightly in additional sealing techniques. Each movement precise, swift, betraying no hesitation or remorse.
With one last glance at the villagers, the masked shinobi spoke clearly, his voice devoid of empathy. "Forget today. Live your lives as if this never occurred."
In an instant, the shinobi vanished, melting into the darkness of the surrounding forest, leaving behind only a haunting silence punctuated by the crackling of dying torches and the uneven, broken breathing of the villagers.
For a long moment, no one moved, stunned by what had just unfolded. Then Masato sank heavily to his knees beside Jiro's fallen body, his hands hovering uncertainly above his friend's lifeless form. The realization settled over him like a crushing weight pressing deep into his chest. His hands trembled as he reached out to close Jiro's wide, unseeing eyes, the final act of respect for a man who had stood so bravely for them all.
Kenji stood frozen a few feet away, his face pale, eyes wide and staring dumbfounded at the space where the shinobi had vanished. He trembled , emotions warring within him, grief, fury, disbelief, and a bitter helplessness.