The ruined village once occupied by the Koeda Clan now received new, shadowy visitors. They hailed from the northern land encircled by rocky mountains. Wearing straw hats and cloaked in rain capes, they slipped into the empty village like phantoms, silent and unseen.
Led by their sensory ninja, the group arrived at one of the stone huts within the ruins.
"Akaishi-sama."
Inside the hut stood a masked Iwa-nin Anbu, clad in the standard black combat garb of the covert corps. The moment he saw the party enter, he quickly bowed to the man at their head.
"Slate?"
Akaishi's eyes narrowed as he studied the masked figure before him.
"Yes, Akaishi-sama. It's me."
Slate responded at once. In front of the man who had once held the office of Anbu Commander, he dared not show a trace of disrespect.
"Why are you alone? What about your squad? Did you send them out scouting?"
"...I'm the only one left."
Akaishi's eyes widened.
"Before your orders reached me, I took it upon myself to strike at the traitorous Koeda Clan..."
"And now you're the only survivor?"
"Yes!"
Slate lowered his head, burning with shame.
"Tell me carefully—how did you lose? Which of the Koeda jonin took the field? Did they use any unexpected techniques?" Akaishi's voice was firm, but without reproach. Assigning blame was no longer his responsibility; that was for the Tsuchikage and the current Anbu Commander. What mattered now was the intelligence Slate had brought back.
Troops move only after intelligence has moved first.
That was the axiom of small-unit shinobi warfare. With few numbers, supply demands were minimal, replenishment easy. Unlike armies, ninja squads survived not through sheer force but through precision—and in these clashes, where only elites took part, information was worth far more than rations or steel.
If you knew an enemy's techniques in advance, you could prepare counters. An opponent who used poisons could be thwarted with gas masks and antidotes. If they favored fire or lightning style, you could pit water and wind against them.
And against the Koeda Clan's hereditary auditory genjutsu—the Magic Flute Technique—both Slate's fallen squad and Akaishi's current team carried earplugs and muffling headgear.
By rights, the Koeda Clan should have no secrets from men like Akaishi and Slate. The clan had been one of the families that supported the First Tsuchikage in founding Iwagakure. In the decades since, their arts had been laid bare.
Still—caution was never wasted.
While the clan's arts were well-documented, the details of their elite jonin techniques remained sparse, unreliable, even contradictory. For example, Tsuchikage-sama had personally warned that Koeda Kyoichi, the young prodigy, wielded the secret Camouflage Concealment Technique, alongside advanced Earth Release hardening jutsu like the Stone Spear.
So Slate's failed operation was not a total loss. As long as he returned with new intelligence, there was value gained.
"It was... just one person who fought."
Slate's voice was thin, like a rooster strangled at the throat.
"One person?"
Akaishi's eyes bulged. "You mean a single shinobi destroyed your entire squad? You were leading a full combat unit, weren't you?"
"It was Koeda Kyoichi."
Slate's voice shrank even further, but still audible.
"His mastery of the Stone Spear was terrifying—our attacks couldn't break his defenses. He cut down our sensor-nin head-on, then slipped into his Camouflage Concealment. Without a sensor to track him, we couldn't follow his movements at all. I ordered a retreat, but... I was the only one who made it out alive."
Silence fell. Only the drumming of the rain outside filled the stone hut.
Akaishi found himself momentarily at a loss. From Slate's account, the only conclusion was a confirmation: Koeda Kyoichi was a target requiring special caution. No other new intelligence had been gained.
"Nothing else? No other discoveries?"
After a pause, Akaishi pressed further.
"...There was one more thing. We tried to ambush Kyoichi, but before we even got close, he used a jutsu—something like Earth Tremor Core—that forced us out of hiding underground. I suspect... he may have sensory abilities. Or else there's another sensor near him that we haven't identified."
"A sensor-nin... But there are no registered sensors in the Koeda Clan!"
Akaishi's brows furrowed.
The importance of a sensory ninja was beyond question. Scouting, pursuit, survival—everything changed if a squad had one. In Iwagakure, every sensor was recorded by name.
The Koeda Clan had none.
If Slate's words were true, there were three possibilities:
One—Kyoichi had long hidden the fact he was a sensor.
Two—he had only recently awakened such ability. Not all sensors were born to it, like the Hyūga or Yamanaka of Konoha; some gained it through training or sheer luck.
Either of those would be manageable. The problem remained only with the Koeda Clan itself.
But the third possibility was more troubling: that the clan had secured the backing of a powerful outside force—one unafraid of opposing Iwa.
"Slate. Did you see any shinobi near Kyoichi from other villages or organizations?"
Akaishi's gaze bore into him.
"No, I saw none," Slate replied. "At the time, the only ones with him were two Koeda chūnin—Koeda Mai and Koeda Aki."
"...Slate, you'll lead us back. We'll weigh the Koeda Clan's strength with our own hands."
Akaishi thought in silence for a few moments before deciding. He would test them directly. If the Koeda Clan truly proved formidable, they could plan another way. If not—then the mission could be finished swiftly.
In any case—
First, they would test.