Chapter 12: The Price of Blood

My blade cut through the air, leaving streaks of glowing blue chakra in its wake as I tore through the remaining bandits. Tsumetai Kinzoku hummed with power, feeding off my rage, moving faster and faster with each slash. Every time I swung, another life was taken, heads fell, bodies crumpled to the ground, and blood stained the dirt underfoot.

There was no hesitation. No mercy.

The bandits scattered, trying to flee or fight, but none of them were a match for me. I slashed in a wide arc, sending a wave of chakra flying through the air. The glowing energy rippled outward, cutting through the bandits like they were paper, their bodies falling before they even realized what had hit them.

But as I turned toward another group, something familiar caught my eye.

Lying in the dirt, motionless.

I froze.

No…

I rushed forward, my heart pounding in my chest, skidding to my knees as I reached the fallen figure. It was Ayako, the old herbalist who had taught me so much. She lay on the ground, her frail body crumpled and broken, her face pale and cold. Blood pooled beneath her, soaking into the dirt.

"Ayako-san…" I whispered, my voice breaking.

I knelt beside her, gently lifting her small frame into my arms. Her body was limp, her skin icy against my touch. She'd been dead for a while, too long for me to do anything. Tears welled up in my eyes, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. The village had been her home for decades, and these animals had taken it from her.

The tears came without warning, hot and bitter as they spilled down my cheeks. I clutched her closer, my hands trembling as I fought the wave of grief crashing over me.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered, choking on the words.

But there was no time for grief. No time for mourning. If I didn't stop these bastards, more people would die. I gently laid her back down, closing her eyes with a shaky hand. My vision blurred with tears, but I blinked them away, forcing myself to focus.

This wasn't over.

I stood, gripping Tsumetai Kinzoku tighter, the cold blade at my side now resonated more. The village still burned, and I could hear screams in the distance, the sound of civilians still fighting for their lives.

With a deep breath, I pushed my emotions down, burying them under the cold, hard resolve that had taken hold of me. I couldn't afford to feel anything right now. Not until this was done.

....

I moved through the burning streets like a shadow, my blade cutting through the bandits before they even had time to scream. Every step was calculated, every strike precise. These monsters had taken everything from this village, and now I was going to take everything from them.

As I reached the inn, I spotted the familiar face of the Hiroshi, a man I'd come to know well over the past month. His usually kind face was twisted in pain, clutching his arm, or rather, the stump where his arm used to be. Blood soaked the earth around him, but he still held a makeshift weapon in his remaining hand, standing between a bandit and his daughter.

The bandit sneered, raising his sword to strike, but I was already moving.

Before the blade could fall, Tsumetai Kinzoku flashed, and the bandit's head hit the ground with a sickening thud. Aiko screamed, tears streaming down her face as she rushed to her father, who collapsed to his knees, clutching his bleeding stump.

"Hold on!" I shouted, kneeling beside them.

I tore a piece of fabric from my cloak, tying it tightly around the innkeeper's arm to slow the bleeding. His face was pale, his breaths shallow, but he was alive, for now.

"Thanks" Aiko sobbed, her voice trembling.

"Stay here," I said, looking into her tear-filled eyes. "I'm going to stop this. I promise."

She nodded, her face streaked with tears, holding Hiroshi close as I stood. I had saved them, but there were others, more civilians still in danger. I couldn't rest until they were safe.

....

I tore through the village, cutting down every bandit I came across, each kill driving me deeper into my rage. I found more villagers, cowering in the ruins of their homes, hiding from the slaughter. I cut down the bandits threatening them, making sure they had a path to safety before moving on.

But as I neared the center of the village, something shifted. The bandits became more organized, more strategic. There were fewer of them now, but the ones that remained moved like trained soldiers, their movements precise, their attacks calculated.

Ninjas.

I leaped onto the roof of a building, crouching low as I observed the chaos below. The village square had become the center of the destruction, and in the middle of it all was a group of ninja, standing casually amidst the carnage as if this was just another mission.

I watched closely, analyzing their movements, my instincts telling me exactly what I was up against. Most of them were genin, I could tell by their lack of experience and the sloppiness of their movements. A few of them moved with more precision, chunin, likely, but my eyes were drawn to one figure standing in the center of it all.

A man, taller than the rest, wearing a dark robe. He stood out not just because of his size but because of his presence. He was calm, completely unfazed by the destruction around him, a bottle of sake in one hand as he laughed and counted money in the other. His chakra radiated power.

A jonin.

My grip tightened on my sword. This was going to be dangerous. One wrong move, and it would all be over. But I wasn't going to let them get away with this. Not after what they'd done.

I crouched lower, blending into the shadows as I surveyed the area. The genin and chunin were gathering women and children, tying them up and dragging them toward the jonin, who watched with a sadistic grin on his face.

I needed to be smart about this. I couldn't just charge in, not with that jonin overseeing everything. I had to take them out one by one, whittle their numbers down before I made my move.

I focused my chakra, letting it flow through my body, sharpening my senses. Every sound, every movement, became crystal clear as I watched the genin nearest to me move toward a group of children. I felt a surge of anger, but I forced it down. Now wasn't the time for rage. I had to be precise.

I moved silently, dropping down behind the nearest ninja. In one swift motion, I drew Tsumetai Kinzoku, the black blade whispering through the air as I slit his throat. He crumpled to the ground without a sound.

One down.

I moved quickly, dispatching the next two genin before they even realized what was happening. I was a shadow in the chaos, striking from the dark, my blade clean and precise. Each kill brought me closer to the center, closer to the jonin.

But I knew I couldn't rush this. The jonin was still laughing, completely unaware of the deaths around him. I wasn't ready to face him head-on yet. I needed to take out the others first, weaken their forces before making my move.

I crouched behind a burning building, my eyes locked on the group of chunin standing guard near the hostages. I would have to be even more careful with them, they were stronger, more experienced.

But that didn't matter. I had the element of surprise.

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