š HEAR YE, HEAR YE, BRAVE SOULS! šāØ
š„ Let the drums of destiny roar as we welcome our newest LEGENDARY adventurersā¦ āļø Buddyschlym! āļø and āļø Moran! āļøšā”ļø Our journey just leveled UP with their arrival!
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The Kumogakure base camp near the border of the Land of Fire was alive with activity, even as the night deepened. Bonfires crackled, their flickering flames casting long shadows across the makeshift camp. Groups of Kumogakure ninjas sat around the fires, their voices carrying over the sound of crackling wood as they chatted, laughed, and mocked their enemy, Konoha.
"Did you see those Konoha ninjas today?" One of them jeered, his voice dripping with mockery. "They're nothing compared to us. Weaklings pretending to be soldiers."
Another laughed loudly, taking a swig from a canteen. "It's no surprise. After all, their village is barely holding together after what happened. They're lucky we haven't crushed them already."
The group erupted into laughter, their tone filled with confidence and disdain. The camp's atmosphere was casual, with most of the ninjas either relaxing or taking turns keeping watch.
After all, they had no reason to fear. Konoha's forces had been scattered and disorganized, and their strength diminished.
But amidst the laughter and bravado, none of them noticed the silent figure sitting at the edge of the group, his presence hidden in plain sight. Draped in a long robe and wearing a mask, he sat quietly, his gloved hands resting on his knees as he gazed into the fire.
It wasn't until one of the ninjas, a sharp-eyed young man, glanced his way that the air shifted. The man's eyes widened, his body tensing as he realized that the masked figure was not one of their own.
"Who the hell are you?!" The ninja shouted, leaping to his feet and throwing a handful of shuriken at the stranger. His voice echoed across the camp, immediately drawing the attention of the others.
The masked figure didn't move. With a slight tilt of his head, a subtle aura of disdain radiated from him, rippling like a silent shockwave. The approaching shuriken seemed to freeze mid-air, their lethal momentum vanishing as though caught in the grip of an unseen force.
One by one, they clattered harmlessly to the ground, the sound echoing like a defeated symphony.
His presence alone had turned their attack into a futile spectacle, and for a fleeting moment, the air itself seemed to hold its breath, awed by his quiet dominance.
Before the attacking ninja could take another step, his head was severed cleanly from his shoulders, spinning through the air in a grotesque display.
The moonlight illuminated the scene, making the blood splatter glisten like rubies in the night. The man's lifeless body collapsed to the ground, a fountain of blood staining the dirt beneath him.
The camp fell silent for a moment, the Kumogakure ninjas frozen in shock.
"Enemy attack!" one of them roared, breaking the silence.
With a battle cry, the group charged at the masked figure, their weapons drawn and ninjutsu blazing.
The masked man raised his head slightly, the firelight glinting off the smooth surface of his mask. As the attackers closed in, a sudden burst of energy exploded outward from him.
Conqueror's Haki.
The force of it stopped the ninjas in their tracks, their bodies trembling as an overwhelming pressure bore down on them. Some fell to their knees, their weapons slipping from their hands as sweat poured down their faces.
The masked man's voice cut through the silence, calm and unyielding. "I didn't come here to kill all of you. Return to your homes. Go back to your families, who are waiting for you. This is your one and only chance."
He paused, his tone growing colder. "I killed him because he attacked first. If you choose the same path, you'll meet the same fate."
For a moment, the Kumogakure ninjas hesitated. The pressure of his Haki was unlike anything they had ever felt, a suffocating weight that made their instincts scream at them to flee.
But their pride, their training, and their orders wouldn't allow them to back down.
"Kill him!" One of the ninjas that seemed like the leader of this group shouted, rallying the others. "He's just one man! Overwhelm him!"
The ninjas roared in unison, launching their attacksāshuriken, kunai, fire, and lightning jutsus, all aimed at the masked figure.
The masked man sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "So be it."
From thin air, he summoned two massive axes, their blades gleaming ominously in the firelight. The weapons were large and heavy, yet he wielded them effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise.
As the first wave of ninjas closed in, the axes moved.
With a single swing, he cleaved through three enemies, their bodies crumpling to the ground in a spray of blood. Another ninja leaped at him from behind, kunai in hand, but the masked man twisted, his axe slicing through the attacker's arm before burying itself in his chest.
The camp descended into chaos as the mysterious figure tore through the Kumogakure forces like a whirlwind of death.
His strikes were precise, his movements unrelenting. Limbs were severed, necks were snapped, and bodies were thrown like ragdolls. The ground became slick with blood, the once-crackling bonfire now overshadowed by the screams of the dying.
The ninjas tried to regroup, launching coordinated attacks in an attempt to overwhelm him. But no matter how many came at him, he remained untouchable.
Minutes later, the camp was silent once more.
The masked man stood in the center of the carnage, his axes dripping with blood. Around him lay the lifeless bodies of over fifty Kumogakure ninjas, their faces frozen in expressions of shock and terror.
He raised his face to the sky, the moon casting its pale light over the gruesome scene.
From within his mind, Kurama's voice rumbled with disdain. "Humansā¦ arrogant, foolish, and so fragile. They act like gods, but they die like insects."
Naruto chuckled softly behind his mask, his breath visible in the cold night air. "You're not wrong, Kurama. But sometimes, they surprise you."
Kurama snorted. "I haven't seen much evidence of that tonight."
Naruto glanced down at his blood-soaked axes before dismissing them back into thin air. "Fair point."
Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of his fingers. He took a deep drag, the orange glow of the cigarette briefly illuminating his masked face.
"This is just the beginning," Naruto said quietly, exhaling a plume of smoke. "If they think they can take advantage of Konoha, they're in for a rude awakening."
With that, he turned and walked away, his figure blending into the darkness. Behind him, the Kumogakure camp was nothing more than a graveyard, a silent testament to his wrath.
That night, the same scene played out across the border camps of Sunagakure, Iwagakure, and Kumogakure.
The mysterious figure moved like a shadow, striking with precision and leaving no survivors. His overwhelming strength turned each camp into a massacre, the bodies of ninjas littering the battlefield by the time the sun rose.
The events of that night would go down in history as the Dark Night or the Night of Slaughter.
--- ā¦ ā¦ ā¦ ---
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