Chapter | XXX |

After the chilling experience of witnessing the man's eerie chant before his abrupt transformation into ashes, Team 7 sought refuge near a massive boulder. Ashen grey clouds enveloped the area, shrouding them in gloom, as if the sun itself denied them its light. With Kakashi's signal to proceed, they cautiously approached the colossal stone and recited the mysterious chant. Miraculously, the boulder responded like a hidden mechanism, unveiling a narrow entrance that could barely accommodate them.

Recalling the cultist's haste when entering through the hole, Kakashi wasted no time. Rumi, Naruto, Asashi, and Kakashi entered the deep, ominous passageway without delay. To their surprise, the interior was mysteriously illuminated, revealing a vast staircase leading further downward. Concealed within the cave's shadows, they descended into the depths, their hearts pounding with both suspicion and curiosity.

As they delved deeper, they stumbled upon a grand underground structure, evoking a sense of ancient secrets concealed within its walls. The staircase ultimately led to a grand red gate. Towering before the gate were two guards cloaked in pitch-black garments, concealing their very flesh. Remaining stealthy in the shadows, the infiltrators observed. Kakashi nod to Rumi, who possessed the remarkable ability to see through darkness.

Drawing upon her mastery of the Shadow Style, Rumi retrieved her obsidian bow. The shadows seemed to bend at her command, and under her skillful control, a formidable arrow wove into existence. Steadying her aim, she summoned all her strength and released the steel-like string.

'Shadow Style; Netherite Arrow'

With a swift swish, the arrow tore through the air, piercing one guard's ear and exiting through the other side, leaving him lifeless in an instant. Before even a second could pass, the other guard met the same fate, succumbing to the deadly power of Rumi's Netherite Arrow. Both guards lay motionless on the ground, their lives extinguished.

***

within the majestic chambers of the towering castle, a young man knelt with unwavering reverence before a captivating statue. The sculpture depicted a legendary swordsman, his hands firmly clutching the resplendent Silver Blade. Near the statue's motionless feet rested a vast and profound cauldron, stretching deep into the earth's embrace.

A keen observer would immediately discern that this was no ordinary man, but rather a teenager. His striking crimson hair cascaded gracefully down to his shoulders, perfectly complementing his eyes that glimmered like pearls of ember. With profound humility, he bowed his head and began to chant:

"O Silversteel, graceless and divine,

Bestow upon me thy ancient might, bless me with thy powers,

For thou hast filled the cauldron with young blood, rich and crimson,

Drawn from the well of life's eternal flow, where destinies are woven.

In eons past, when stars aligned, thy name invoked with reverence,

A guardian of realms unseen, amidst the cosmos' luminescence.

From ancient altars, voices rise, chanting words of sacred lore,

To draw upon primordial strength, deep within the mystic core.

With moonlit incantations sung beneath the willow's gentle sway,

The threads of fate entwine and blend in night's ethereal display.

By realms forgotten, spirits throng, drawn to the power's bloom,

Partaking in wisdom's ancient fount and dancing in astral gloom.

O Silversteel, enigmatic force, your legacy transcends,

Through veils of time and ages past, your essence never ends.

Graceless yet divine, your touch imbues the chosen hearts,

With ancient secrets intertwined, the tapestry of cosmic arts.

As the cauldron bubbles fierce, and crimson currents churn,

Empower the seekers on their path, to learn and grow and yearn.

From young blood's vigor, strength renewed, a union bound in flame,

The echoes of this ancient chant, immortalize thy name."

With each word resonating in the hallowed space, the very air seemed to tremble with an otherworldly energy. As the final words of the ancient chant left the teenager's lips, an awe-inspiring transformation began. The formidable statue started to crumble, and the illustrious blade descended gracefully into the cauldron, now filled with the essence of young, innocent blood.

Filled with determination and courage, the young man closed his eyes and resolutely dove into the pool of blood, reaching out to grasp the divine blade.

A minute passed, then another. Soon, a figure covered in blood rose from the pool of blood, the teen stepped on the cold surface. On his hand a bloody blade, he took a glance, then brandished the blade of Silversteel, dying the room red.

***

A shiver ran down the trio's spine as they snuck into the castle, they exchanged worried glances.

"Did you feel it," Naruto asked, his voice barely audible. Kakashi and the others nodded, a chilling sense of dread filled their hearts.

"Yeah... and it doesn't feel like anything good." His grim voice was silent, however, his steel-like will persisted, ready to confront anyone and anything.

"Let's end this as quickly as possible."