217-Swordsman
Instinct and training kicked in for Renjiro and his squad, and honed reflexes were taking over before conscious thought could intervene.
Without wasting a second, Renjiro created a shadow clone. The clone immediately dashed forward to Yutaka's fallen body.
Dropping to one knee, the clone's hands glowed with a soft, green light as it began applying medical ninjutsu, attempting to heal the gash that had so quickly drained Yutaka of life.
While the clone focused on the near-hopeless task of healing Yutaka, Renjiro's real self concentrated on locating the assailants.
Knowing that every second was precious, Renjiro closed his eyes and activated his chakra field, sending out a wave of his chakra to sense any unusual movements around them.
'They must still be close,' he thought, his brow furrowing as he extended his senses to the very edge of his range, a full kilometer around their position.
His chakra field picked up numerous signatures: the shinobi standing nearby, those within the village walls, and many others scattered throughout the surrounding area.
It took him a few agonizing seconds to filter through the multitude of chakra signatures, but then he noticed it—a cluster of ten distinct signatures moving swiftly away from the village, heading east.
"There they are!" Renjiro muttered to himself before shouting to the others,
"They're ten in number, heading east!"
With a flicker, he disappeared from his spot, racing toward the retreating enemies with his squad following close behind.
The other shinobi who had been with Yutaka hesitated only briefly before following suit, though one of them knelt beside Renjiro's shadow clone, who was still trying to save Yutaka.
The shinobi, seeing the situation, yelled out, "Follow them!" before aiding the clone in attending to their fallen clan head.
Meanwhile, the clone's efforts to save Yutaka were proving futile. The medical ninjutsu was potent, but the wound was too severe and too much time had already passed.
The clone's chakra pulsed through Yutaka's body, trying to stimulate his cells and regenerate the tissue, but the vital signs were too weak.
The blood loss had been catastrophic, and by the time the clone attempted to seal the wound, Yutaka's body had already begun to shut down. The glow of the healing chakra faded as the clone realized the harsh truth: Yutaka was beyond saving.
---
Renjiro moved through the snow-covered terrain with speed and precision, the white landscape blurring around him as he zeroed in on the fleeing attackers.
His Sharingan activated, and the world around him seemed to slow down as his eyes captured every detail, analyzing the movements of the figures ahead.
The attackers were quick, but with such a large group, they couldn't hope to maintain complete stealth or speed.
In a way, their numbers were their downfall; they couldn't move as efficiently or as quietly as a smaller unit might have.
The snow that blanketed the landscape was both a boon and a curse. It made tracking the enemies easier, as their footprints were clearly visible and the churned-up snow left a trail that was easy to follow.
But the same snow that aided in tracking also hampered speed, making it difficult for both sides to move quickly without slipping or losing their balance.
As Renjiro closed in, the attackers came into view, their dark uniforms stark against the white snow. The first thing Renjiro noticed was the distinctive pattern on their gear—the unmistakable symbols of Kirigakure. His eyes narrowed in recognition.
'Kirigakure shinobi… They attacked earlier than expected,' he thought, his mind racing.
The intel they had received suggested that the enemy would strike soon, but Renjiro hadn't anticipated that it would be this soon. Yet, here they were, deep in the Land of Frost, with enemy shinobi already causing chaos.
Renjiro's squad caught up with him, fanning out slightly as they prepared to engage. The other shinobi who had followed were right behind them, and Renjiro could sense their tension.
The group of attackers hadn't yet realized that their pursuers were that close—at least, not until it was too late.
The first strike came swift and deadly. Renjiro targeted the two rearmost shinobi, his Sharingan allowing him to predict their movements with chilling accuracy.
In a blur of motion, he closed the distance between them and lashed out with precise, lethal force.
His kunai found its mark, piercing the neck of the first shinobi, who barely had time to register the attack before crumpling to the ground, lifeless.
The second shinobi spun around, but Renjiro was already upon him. A swift strike to the chest drove the breath from the shinobi's lungs, followed by a sharp twist of the kunai that ended his life in an instant.
The two bodies fell into the snow, their blood quickly darkening the pristine white around them.
Renjiro's squad moved in next, with Tora and Shoda engaging two more of the fleeing shinobi. Tora's speed and precision were unmatched, his blade flashing through the air as he cut down his target with ruthless efficiency.
Shoda, cleaved through the enemy's defenses with sheer brute force, leaving his opponent with no chance to retaliate. Both shinobi fell, their lives extinguished in a matter of seconds.
The remaining attackers, realizing they were under assault, quickened their pace, but the weight of their numbers was against them.
It was impossible to escape cleanly with such a large group, and Renjiro and his team exploited this weakness mercilessly.
However, just as they closed in on the remaining six Kirigakure shinobi, Renjiro's Sharingan caught a glimpse of something unusual.
The lead figure, a taller man with a commanding presence, suddenly slowed down and stopped. Renjiro's instincts flared in warning, sensing that something was off.
The man turned to face them, and Renjiro finally got a clear view of his face—scarred, with eyes that gleamed with cold calculation.
But what drew Renjiro's attention most was the weapon the man was now holding. It was a massive sword, unlike any ordinary blade.
The weapon was a combination of a hammer and a sharp blade, with the blunt end designed to shatter defenses and the blade to cleave through anything that stood in its way.
'That sword… Kabutowari!'
Renjiro's mind raced as he recognized the weapon. The Kabutowari was one of the famous swords wielded by the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist.
If this man was carrying the Kabutowari, then there was no doubt about his identity.
The man's voice cut through the cold air, deep and resonant.
"I didn't want to use this," he said, his tone almost regretful, "but now I need to."
He hefted the massive sword, his grip firm and steady as he prepared to face Renjiro and his squad.
Turning his head slightly, the man called out to his remaining subordinates, who had paused in their retreat.
"Keep moving," he ordered, his voice brooking no argument.
"I'll buy you the time you need."
The Kirigakure shinobi hesitated for a moment, clearly unwilling to leave their leader behind, but they knew better than to disobey.
With a final glance back, they resumed their flight, leaving the man standing alone, ready to face the oncoming storm.
Renjiro came to a halt, his mind reeling as the full realization hit him.
'He's one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist?!'
The thought sent a chill down his spine. This was not just any shinobi they were dealing with—this was someone who had likely faced countless opponents and emerged victorious every time.
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