An Arrow Piercing the Clouds
A day later, Shirō and his team finally reached the Land of Demons.
"This number… it's truly astonishing." Nakamura leaned over the back of giant bird no. 2, staring down at the endless black tide below.
"Indeed." Miyue sighed beside him, her expression grim. "I really don't know how the shrine maiden's people have managed to hold out this long."
"It must be thanks to that purple barrier."
"Barrier? Shirō-ge, what barrier? We don't see anything," Miyue tilted her head curiously.
"Yeah, there's nothing there," Nakamura added with a frown.
"Huh? You really can't see it?" Shirō blinked in mild surprise.
"Shirō, are you saying there's an actual purple barrier?" Nakamura wasn't doubting him, but the others clearly saw nothing. If such a defense existed, it could be the shrine maiden's last line of resistance.
"Of course. Tai Yi, activate your Sharingan and check. Maybe only I can see it because of my Secret Skill."
"Alright, I'll try."
Tai Yi's eyes narrowed, the tomoe in his crimson Sharingan spinning to life. He stared hard at the horizon—then drew in a sharp breath.
"This… there really is a barrier!"
"There is?!" Miyue and Nakamura spoke at once.
"Yes. It surrounds the entire city like a dome. You can't tell from a distance, but it's there."
"Then that confirms it. Hold tight!"
No sooner had Shirō spoken than giant bird no. 2 suddenly banked upward, narrowly dodging several projectiles whistling toward them.
"Shirō, did you see where the attack came from?" Nakamura asked, his voice steady despite the jolt.
"I did." Shirō's tone hardened. "It came from that mass of puppets down there."
"Don't act rashly—we need to rendezvous first."
"Don't worry, Captain. It'll only take a moment. Let me give them a gift." With a sharp slap against his wrist, Shirō murmured:
"Projection—start."
A gleam of prana flashed as a longsword appeared in his hand. He set it against his bowstring.
Miyue blinked, then chuckled. "Shirō-ge, even I know bows don't fire swords…"
Her words trailed off as the blade in his hand began to shift. Under the pull of the bowstring, the steel warped, compressed, and reshaped until what rested against the string was no longer a sword, but an arrow of polished steel.
"That's why I said…" Shirō's mouth curled into a smirk. "…I'm an Archer."
Though he still couldn't perfectly project B-rank Noble Phantasms, Shirō had spent the past year refining his craft—altering their shapes, modifying appearances, and weaponizing his projections in ways only he could.
And so began the legend of the so-called Nuclear Sword Immortal.
With a whisper, he released the string.
The sword-turned-arrow streaked away like a shooting star, cutting through the clouds as it hurtled toward the puppet army's main encampment.
"Eh? Shirō-ge, what good will one arrow do?" Nai Guang frowned.
"Haha, you'll see soon enough. Just let it fly a little longer."
"…If you're thinking of using acceleration and distance to increase force, Shirō-ge, that's not how—"
"Stop, stop, stop!" Shirō groaned. "I didn't know you were such a scholar. Anyway, it should be about there."
With a casual snap of his fingers—
Snap.
—came a thunderous BOOM!
The ground below erupted in a blazing inferno, smoke billowing high into the sky. The force rattled even the giant bird's wings.
"!!!"
Every member of the squad gaped at him, disbelief etched on their faces.
"This… this power, from that distance?!" Nai Guang muttered, stunned.
"Don't overthink it, little scholar." Shirō rolled his eyes. "It's my Ninjutsu. Forget about formulas and just enjoy the show."
"Alright, descend a little," Tai Yi interjected. "There's something strange about those things. Let's confirm…"
Shirō angled the bird lower. As the smoke cleared, they all saw the impossible—
The puppets were reforming.
Fragments of shattered wood and metal twisted unnaturally, clattering together, until the constructs stood whole again.
"They're… recovering? So fast!" Shirō muttered, his brow furrowed.
Even at this altitude, everyone could see the puppets writhing back into formation.
Takeda, who rarely spoke, broke his silence. "Should we descend and gather more details?"
"No. Too risky." Nakamura shook his head firmly. "Shirō, can you send your Dragon Tooth Soldiers instead?"
"Not from this height—they'll shatter on impact. Let's head into the city first. They'll have better intel."
"Wait," Tai Yi cut in. "We should ascend first, observe their numbers, and look for weaknesses. They resemble puppets, which means they must have cores."
"It's a pity no Hyūga joined us this time," Miyue sighed. "With Byakugan, we'd already have found them."
"Well, life rarely goes as planned," Nakamura said flatly. "Strengthening ourselves is the only constant. Now hold on—they've noticed us. Ascend, now!"
The bird shot skyward, tilting sharply. Everyone swayed, clutching for balance, but no one fell.
"Are you all good?" Shirō asked.
Shikamaru steadied himself. "We're fine. Keep your eyes open, Shirō, and tell me their distribution."
"Understood."
"Hey, Tai Yi," Miyue whispered, "can Shirō really see from this high?"
Xiao Guang and the others pricked their ears, waiting for the answer.
"He can," Tai Yi confirmed. "He practices a Secret Skill that enhances his vision. From what I know, his current limit is three kilometers."
(Though in truth, Shirō had never given them the exact range. Tai Yi's estimate came from experience—but Shirō couldn't see nearly that far.)
"…That's amazing," Xiao Guang murmured.
Miyue, however, frowned. "But wait—didn't they say Shirō was just a commoner? How does he know so many Secret Skills?"
"Miyue!" Pingyi snapped, his tone sharp. "That's out of line. Ninja arts are secrets of the clan. Outside, you should know better than to pry."
"I… understand." Miyue bit her lip and bowed slightly. "I'll apologize to Shirō later."
"No need." Tai Yi waved it off. "Just remember not to make that mistake again. Curiosity isn't always safe."
Pingyi added firmly, "Outside the clan, keep such thoughts buried. We're comrades now, not rivals."
"…Yes."
Still, Tai Yi gave her an explanation to smooth things over. "Shirō may be a commoner, but his ancestors were part of a shinobi clan. Their techniques were lost over generations, but fragments remained in ancient texts. Shirō pieced them back together. He's a genius in that regard."
To outsiders, it sounded like a far-fetched tale. But among them, it was the most reasonable story they had.
Of course, within the village, the Third Hokage and others had long stopped believing that Shirō's talents came from nothing more than "ancient texts and natural genius."
Yet, just like Sakumo's White Fang, Shirō's edge only grew sharper…
Visit patreon.com/MexxyWave to get 30+ chapters