Miyamoto Yukie was utterly dumbfounded.
Yes—
Never in his worst nightmares did he expect that the first enemy he'd encounter on the Mist frontline…
Would be none other than Juzo Biwa, wielder of the Decapitating Carving Knife, one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist!
He wanted to cry.
He was just an ordinary Jounin, promoted through accumulated merit rather than raw strength.
In terms of combat power, he wasn't even on par with Uchiha Shisui—who was only a Chuunin right now.
So why me?
Why did he have to run into Juzo Biwa?
Wasn't this supposed to be a standoff? Has Mist even declared full war yet?
He thought he was sent here just to reinforce the border—mere defense, not a life-or-death struggle!
But before he could think further, several more figures stepped out of the trees.
"This guy is supposed to be Konoha's frontline commander?"
"Konoha must really look down on us—sending this trash to block Mist?"
"No, it makes sense. Right now, Konoha's great clans and the Hokage's disciples are bogged down in the Land of Rain against Hidden Stone Village and Hidden Cloud Village. Hidden Sand Village is tying up more of their forces.
We attacked suddenly—Konoha couldn't send their elite here."
"If we'd known this, we wouldn't have bothered hiding. We should've attacked the moment these weaklings showed up."
"Konoha really has declined year after year. With Senju Tobirama dead, the Senju clan vanished. A few years ago they had Sakumo Hatake, the White Fang, but I hear their own village drove him to suicide."
"And now, against us, all they can muster is… this? Pathetic."
The Mist shinobi laughed and jeered.
They had a point.
Think back—
When Konoha was first founded, Hashirama Senju alone suppressed the entire ninja world, with Madara Uchiha as his equal.
But once Madara left, Konoha's strength was cut in half.
When Hashirama died, Tobirama barely held things together, fighting four villages at once during the First Shinobi War.
But in the Second, even Senju Tobirama's death could only barely bring it to a close.
After Hiruzen Sarutobi took the Hokage's seat, Konoha steadily declined.
Only Hatake Sakumo, the White Fang, managed to make the ninja world fear Konoha again—until his own people forced him to take his life.
The Mist shinobi found it hilarious.
But Miyamoto Yukie?
He couldn't laugh at all.
His gaze trembled violently as he looked at the newcomers.
Juzo Biwa.
Hozuki Fuguki.
Kuriarare Kushimaru.
Munashi Jinpachi.
Kurosuki Raiga…
Good lord.
Aside from Tutokusa no Eiro, wielder of the Blunt Blade, the entire Seven Ninja Swordsmen were here.
And that could only mean one thing: Mist had already decided on open war against Konoha.
Otherwise, why would their most powerful squad appear here on the Whirlpools frontline?
But—damn it!
Why me?
He was just a regular Jounin, yet the Seven Ninja Swordsmen had come together as if to personally crush him.
What did I ever do to deserve this?!
Inside, he cursed the village.
This is "defense"? Who are you kidding?!
Still, Miyamoto wasn't naïve. He instantly understood—he had been thrown away as a pawn.
Konoha had sent him and this batch of fodder here just to buy time.
He hated it.
He had been loyal to the village, and this was how they repaid him?
But before he could dwell further, more figures emerged from the woods.
Leading them was none other than the last missing swordsman—
Tutokusa no Eiro, wielder of the Blunt Blade, Kabutowari.
"Oi, what are you doing?" Tutokusa drawled.
"Is this the time for chatter? Don't you know that leaving him standing there is an insult to Konoha's ninja?"
The Mist shinobi roared with laughter.
At this point, they already saw the Konoha forces as prey on the chopping block.
Juzo Biwa's eyes went cold.
"Tutokusa's right. Kill them."
In a flash, he moved. His massive blade swung down in a gleaming arc—
And before Miyamoto Yukie even realized what happened, his head was severed clean off.
The other swordsmen immediately joined in.
On the other side, the Konoha shinobi froze in horror.
Their commander had been slaughtered in a single stroke.
How could they possibly fight this?
They were nothing more than cannon fodder. In an instant, the formation shattered—everyone scattered, fleeing in panic.
They cursed their parents for not giving them more legs to run with.
Yes—this was the reality of fodder.
No matter what grand dreams they'd spouted in the Academy, they were still just teenagers who'd grown up in peace, who had never seen blood.
In Kai's previous life, they would've been nothing more than elementary schoolers who only knew how to play.
Without training, without guidance, they were this fragile.
In an easy fight they might do alright, but in the face of true despair—they couldn't even muster the courage to fight back.
"Hah! This is Konoha? Pathetic! Kill them all!"
Kurosuki Raiga laughed loudly as he casually annihilated a squad of Konoha Genin.
Fuguki, however, frowned.
"They're just fodder. What's there to boast about in slaughtering them?"
Jūzō nodded.
"Fuguki's right. Finish off these trash quickly. Leave a necessary force behind to mop up any stragglers in Whirlpool.
The rest—find ships.
We move on to the Land of Fire before Konoha's elite can redeploy.
This batch of fodder is just a smokescreen. Konoha threw them here to stall while they repositioned their real forces.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Mist cannot waste it.
Send word back to the village. Tell them everything.
Have them dispatch a Jinchuriki.
If we move fast enough, we can ride this momentum and wipe Konoha off the map entirely!"
The Mist shinobi roared their assent.
No one was stupid. Anyone could see these Konoha defenders were nothing but fresh academy graduates, sent as sacrificial pawns.
And no one in Mist was about to pass up such an opportunity.
With Jūzō's command, they scattered, each swiftly taking up their assigned tasks.
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