At the Border of Rain Country – Near the Grass Country, Southeast Sector
The terrain stretched wide and ravaged—scarred by endless warfare. Along the edge of a battlefield spanning dozens of kilometers, a Rain Village supply convoy moved with methodical discipline. Though their pace was measured, every step spoke of military precision.
This was a vital supply line: food, water, medical tools, weaponry—mostly food—destined for Rain's forces on the front lines against the Leaf.
The convoy's protection was formidable. Two Jonin spearheaded the escort, backed by three squads of Genin—a deployment rarely seen for such missions. The Rain Village could afford few Jonin on any single front. Their presence here meant only one thing: this convoy could not fail.
Despite the strength on display, unease clung to the procession like a fog. No one spoke. No idle chatter. Only silence and the rhythm of movement.
"Tch… cowards," Jonin Fukai Heisaburo muttered under his breath, then snapped sharply at the younger shinobi, "What are you afraid of? You think you're real ninja, trembling like this?"
His glare swept over the Genin like a drawn blade. None met his eyes. Faces clenched in tension, fists balled, steps uncertain—they looked less like soldiers and more like children marching to their deaths.
"This is just an escort mission. If you fall apart now, what happens when you're face-to-face with a Leaf Jonin? Piss yourselves and die?"
"Enough," said the second Jonin, Akikage Hata, stepping beside him. His voice was low and calm, like rain falling on still water. "Fear on the battlefield… is natural. That fear can sharpen the will to survive."
Heisaburo scoffed. "Hah. You and your soft ideals, Hata. This isn't a classroom. It's war. And war forges warriors through blood, not feelings."
But Hata didn't react. He merely looked ahead, steady as ever.
"Lord Hanzo is invincible," Hata said, with the quiet conviction of someone who'd seen it firsthand. "Under his command, we'll rise above these great nations."
"Damn right," Heisaburo said, fire burning in his eyes. "The other villages mock us, but we'll show them. With Lord Hanzo leading, Rain will carve its name into history."
Watching from a shadowed ridge a few hundred meters away, Itoshiki observed the convoy in silence.
Two Jonin. Finally…
He crouched among the high grass, the breeze barely brushing his cloak. His eyes never left the caravan below.
They've started reinforcing their supply lines. About time.
For days, Itoshiki had haunted these war-torn lands like a ghost—striking down Rain patrols and supply units with ruthless precision. Most had no Jonin. He had carved through them with ease, but none offered a true challenge.
Until now.
He narrowed his eyes. Rain Village is getting desperate. This close to their front lines, they can't afford another loss. That's why they're sending high-level protection.
His mind moved quickly, calculating risks. On the open battlefield, reinforcements could arrive within minutes. If he engaged both Jonin head-on and got pinned down, even his agility and instincts might not save him from being overwhelmed.
I have to take one out fast. Clean. Surgical. Then disappear.
Itoshiki was no berserker. He was an executioner with purpose.
No more small fry. It's time I claim a Jonin's head.
The Rain convoy picked up its pace. Some tension in the ranks seemed to ease as they neared their destination. Distance bred confidence. The Genin, finally daring to breathe, started to murmur among themselves.
"Fire Style: Fire Dragon Flame Bullet!"
Chakra surged violently through Itoshiki's body as he expelled a colossal fire dragon, its form wreathed in blistering heat. The beast of flame roared across the battlefield, coiling through the air with a savage grace. Its burning body twisted like a serpent of destruction, distorting the atmosphere and leaving a trail of molten wind in its wake.
The sonic boom that followed was deafening—a sound more beast than blast—as the dragon barreled toward the supply caravan.
"Hata! Guard the supplies—I'll handle him!" Jonin Fukai Heisaburo barked, already moving. With a flash of steel, he drew his ninja blade, his expression fierce with conviction.
"Don't underestimate me, brat!"
BOOM!
The air cracked as Itoshiki's form blinked forward—his movement so swift it was like space folded around him. In a blur of motion, he was already inches from Heisaburo before the Rain Jonin could fully react.
"So fast!" Heisaburo's eyes widened. Gritting his teeth, he surged chakra into his blade, encasing it in a shimmering aura of blue energy. The weapon hummed with lethal intent as he swung it to intercept the attacker.
"Steel Fist!" Itoshiki's voice was low and cold, the words spoken like a sentence of death.
He didn't dodge. He didn't block.
He struck.
Chakra exploded from his fist, forming a visible shell of condensed energy—dense and unyielding like armor. Itoshiki's infamous strength and mastery of Konoha's orthodox Steel Fist style ignited in full force.
His punch collided directly with the blade.
CRACK!
The sword shattered. Metal fragments scattered like shrapnel as the devastating force drove straight through the weapon and into Heisaburo's chest. The Jonin was launched backward like a broken doll, crashing through tree after tree before finally slamming into the ground, unconscious and bloodied. Only the brief moment of defense saved him from death.
"Heisaburo!" Akikage Hata's voice rose, his usually composed expression breaking with shock. One strike. One strike had felled a Jonin.
Without hesitation, Hata issued sharp, calm orders. "Signal the front line—call for reinforcements. We're under attack. Stay with the convoy. I'll hold him off."
Though urgency bled into his tone, he didn't falter. The Rain Village's front-line camp was close—help would come. All he had to do was delay the enemy.
Across from him, Itoshiki stood unfazed, flexing his fist as flames flickered in his wake.
A grin ghosted across his lips.
"What gave you the illusion you could stop me?"
Without warning, he vanished again—racing toward Hata with deadly intent, faster than a falling blade.
They didn't know they were already being hunted.
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