Fear The Name

Arthur, his body racked with exhaustion, had chosen a new location—a hidden cave tucked away deep within the woods.

There, he popped a chakra pill to restore himself. He'd secured the unconscious man in the cave, a strip of cloth stuffed in his mouth to muffle any potential screams.

With steady hands, Arthur unfurled the summoning scroll once more. He couldn't afford to let this attempt fail as well.

Like before, black spirals writhed across the stone's surface.

'Summoning jutsu: reanimation.'

Suddenly, the man on the floor jerked awake, his eyes wide with terror. He tried to scream again, but his sounds were inaudible.

Arthur ignored the man's struggle.

Then, with a crack, ash, thick and grey, erupted from the ground, engulfing him whole. As the dust settled, Arthur watched with considerate eyes. Where the man had been lay a woman from before, her body marred by a network of cracks!

Her eyes were vacant, staring forward. Yet Arthur hadn't finished.

He retrieved a small charm from his pouch—a tool he had crafted before while residing in the Leaf Village. And its purpose: to suppress free will.

Without it, the woman's body wouldn't be fully controlled, allowing her to resist Arthur's commands.

He attached the charm to a kunai and slowly plunged it into the back of the woman's head. It gradually phased through, as if he were putting his hand through a pond.

The woman's body remained still, but a light stirred in her previously vacant eyes. Arthur stepped back. The moment of truth had arrived.

He focused inwardly on a single command: rise.

A tremor ran through the woman's body, followed by a hesitant twitch of her fingers. Then she pushed herself into a sitting position.

Her eyes, devoid of any recognition, stared blankly into the darkness. She looked around and frantically asked, "W-what happened? Where am I?"

Arthur willed her to close her mouth, and her lips were sealed shut with an almost robotic obedience. Now came the most crucial part—suppressing her free will.

He focused his chakra on the technique, channeling it into the command to surrender control. A silent mental struggle ensued, a battle for dominance between Arthur's will and the woman's fading consciousness.

In just a few seconds, there was a change in the woman's eyes. They were replaced by a white emptiness with a dim glow.

It had worked. He had a puppet—a reanimated body devoid of its own will!

Cancelling the technique was an easier process. Arthur reversed the hand signs, and the woman's body shuddered slightly.

Dust erupted from her, swirling around the cave before dissipating into the air. When it settled, the woman was gone, replaced by the lifeless form of the man.

Evidence needed to be erased.

With the technique ended, he dragged both bodies out of the cave. Outside, he found a secluded spot beneath an oak tree, the earth soft enough to dig with his bare hands.

Sweat trickled down his face as he carved a shallow grave. He then laid both bodies side by side to say a silent prayer.

"Forgive me, Lord Jesus," he began, clasping his hands while on his knees. "I know that I am a sinner, so I ask for forgiveness. Whatsoever reason I am trapped here, I will believe that thou art the Lord and will follow thee always and forever. Please, Lord, save me from damnation. Amen."

Filling the grave, he patted down the earth, leaving no trace of his macabre work.

He needed a new location, a new target. But fatigue was setting in again, and the journey back to town seemed insurmountable.

As he rested against the rough bark of the oak, he heard something from afar.

On a faint path through the trees, a lone figure emerged. The man wore a tattered uniform. Clearly a bandit due to his mouth being covered like one.

An idea began to take root in Arthur's mind. He sat there patiently.

The bandit walked closer and closer in his direction. Once he was in range, like a serpent, Arthur launched himself forward. A well-placed blow to the back of the neck sent the bandit sprawling, unconscious!

Dragging the limp body back to the cave, Arthur knew this was an opportunity he wouldn't let go of.

He popped another chakra pill and pulled out. From the scroll appeared the devil's mask. Without hesitating, he pulled the mask over his head.

Immediately, he felt a cold shiver down his spine. He couldn't see the evil spirit, but the oppressive aura, like a shroud of death, was undeniable. It was cold, a suffocating sensation that threatened to steal his breath.

Ignoring the dread, Arthur reached into his pouch and extracted a kunai. He slammed the tip into his stomach; the pain was like a white-hot shock that momentarily paralyzed him.

Using his strength, he ripped open his own belly!

The process was difficult due to the sharp pang of self-inflicted pain that continued to shoot through him. It hurt; it really hurt!

In the throes of agony, there were only so few options he could do to survive. Hands trembling, he peeled back the kunai and let it drop. His vision blurred, and his knees threatened to give way at any moment.

"Regenerative healing jutsu."

While he was attempting to heal himself, he could hear the cries of death from behind. It was a horrifying screech that struck his ears from behind—the confirmation that the Reaper had mimicked Arthur's movements, slicing open its own belly.

As his vision swam with exertion, Arthur saw it—a dark red stain blooming on his shirt. It was a ghastly sight, but one of hope.

If the blood flowed, then the healing technique was working, mending the damage.

Each passing second was agonizing. Sweat beaded on his brow, stinging his eyes. The pain, though slowly dulling, remained a relentless anchor, pulling him into the darkness.

Through gritted teeth, he focused, pouring every ounce of chakra into the healing process.

He didn't dare look behind; he couldn't afford the distraction. He had to believe the release technique had worked.

Finally, after almost losing consciousness, the agonizing sensation in his abdomen began to subside. He ripped the mask from his face, gasping for breath. His own recovery was far from complete, but a small sliver of victory helped him push onward.

He collapsed onto his hands and knees, his vision momentarily blacking out.

When the world righted itself, he saw it—a single, translucent orb of light escaping the cave. It was a soul that was freed from the Reaper's grasp.

A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Yet something was off: why was there only one soul? If Arthur recalled, there should have been three.

Then it hit him. Hiruzen hadn't died for a reason. For him to have died, he had to use the Reaper Death Seal on the reanimated first and second Hokages and on Orochimaru's arms.

Arthur allowed himself to relax, doubling his efforts on his own healing.

There was no doubt in his mind now that Hiruzen wasn't dead. So who or what could have had the power to take on the likes of characters like the reanimated versions of the first and second Hokages, as well as Orochimaru?

Not wishing to dwell on the thought, he finally stood up after completely healing himself. His chakra was low, so he popped his last chakra pill to finish his task.

The Reanimation technique was going to be used again!

Only Arthur had the willingness and drive to continue pushing himself like this. He had to, for if he fell behind any more than he had, there was no telling who would try to sink him down further.

But that's what separated him from others—he was resilient, wise, and never able to give up on his own goals. No one in this game could compare to his tenacious efforts.

Smearing Minato's dead flesh on the summoning scroll, he channeled his chakra, causing the technique formula to snake its way toward the bandit's unconscious form.

Dust appeared on his body, then vanished as the ritual neared completion. Even though he screamed, Arthur had already taken precautions by gagging his mouth beforehand. The bandit's cries went unheard.

The man's body shuddered violently as cracks spread like spiderwebs across his skin before erupting into a shower of dust.

When the dust settled, Arthur calmed himself. Standing before him, clad in the iconic Hokage's cloak, was Minato Namikaze!

Arthur didn't hesitate to place a charm attached to a kunai in the back of Minato's head.

But he had to be careful. He didn't have enough chakra to fully suppress Minato. Much like Orochimaru had to limit the first two Hokages he summoned, Arthur had to do the same.

At best, Minato was at fifty percent of his full power, and even that was not going to be easy to fully control. Arthur just needed enough to ensure the fourth Hokage wouldn't break the technique.

The reanimated figure tilted its head and rasped, "Who are you?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. Was this all it was? A pale imitation—the shell of the man who bore the other half of the Nine-Tails?

Yet the resemblance was undeniable. Or rather, the feeling was paramount. Arthur could sense the looming dark chakra from the Tailed Beast inside the reanimation.

"You will serve me well," Arthur answered.

He slammed his hand down on the summoning scroll, the symbols fading as quickly as they appeared. A moment later, the earth beneath the reanimated figure broke open, causing a stone coffin to erupt from the ground.

Minato's body drifted inside, its lid snapping shut with a thud.

This coffin is what would hold him until Arthur was ready to unleash him when he pleased. Minato, even as a puppet, was far too powerful to leave unconfined. Especially as the Jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails.

Arthur surveyed the cave, and the stench of death started to fill the air.

All his actions were necessary. Whoever or whatever he needed to sacrifice would help bring him closer to his goals.

Picking up the kunai he dropped earlier, he cleaned up the blood with a cloth in his pouch.

There was no telling how long he could keep Minato under control. The amount of chakra required to just maintain the random woman, who wasn't even a ninja, was already taxing.

Regardless of the pedantic, one thing was certain: Arthur had secured a mindless puppet to dance to his tune.

He glanced at the coffin, watching it slowly descend into an unknown void. One prize was secured. And the rest of the world? Well, the rest of the world would soon learn to fear the name Arthur.

Stepping out of the cave, Arthur took a relaxing breath of fresh air. He was all out of chakra and had used up the remaining chakra pills he'd saved.

Dawn's light was near.

He surveyed the scene, searching for any trace of his activities. Satisfied with the lack of evidence, he set about erasing his time here.

He brushed away any blood and footprints near the cave entrance, as well as scattered leaves to mask any disturbed earth.

With all things hidden, he turned his attention to the days to come.

He needed to restock his dwindling supplies and create a footstool to support his foundation. Things like enhancement pills were a necessity, weapons were crucial, and anything that could help boost his arsenal wouldn't be overlooked.

He also needed more resources, like sealing scrolls and charms. Maybe even another reanimation.

But acquiring such resources wouldn't be easy. The black market offered such items, but at exorbitant prices. He'd need to be creative, perhaps pulling off the impossible.

Arthur remained stoic. The thrill of survival almost rivaled the satisfaction of a successful reanimation.

However, resources were just one piece of the puzzle. He needed a new location—a place where he could continue his experiments undetected.

The hidden cave had served its purpose, but what if he had a place like one of Orochimaru's hideouts?

He considered various options, discarding each one as impractical.

The hidden villages were out of the question—too many watchful eyes. Bandit camps offered a temporary haven, but their nature posed a threat to his materials.

Then a plan sparked in his mind. There was one main country with an abundance of resources that he could prosper in—the Water Country!

It was a land where secrecy was almost a currency—a land ripe with opportunity.

With his plan thought of, Arthur's footsteps gradually disappeared into the forest.