Before Konoha's front-line troops could even form a defensive perimeter, more than twenty Kirigakure ninjas charged in.
Their hands formed seals in unison.
"Water Release: Hidden Mist Technique!"
In an instant, thick mist billowed from their mouths, engulfing Konoha's entire front-line camp in a dense white fog.
Panic rippled through the Konoha ranks.
It couldn't be helped—most of them were barely-trained ninja academy graduates, Genin with no real battlefield experience. They hadn't even faced bandits before, yet now they were thrown into a real war zone.
Their earlier bravado vanished under the suffocating mist.
Miyamoto Yukie, the acting commander, barked a command, trying to steady their nerves.
"Everyone, hold the line!"
He drew his kunai and moved forward to confront the attackers head-on—but before he could, a massive shadow loomed before him.
A gigantic blade crashed down, sparks flying.
The infamous Kubikiribōchō—the Executioner's Blade.
And behind it stood a tall man with bandages covering his neck, his expression cold and deadly.
"The Seven Ninja Swordsmen…" Yukie muttered, his face paling.
Then recognition struck.
"Biwa Jūzō!"
His heart sank.
Of all enemies to face on the Kirigakure front, why him?
He was just a common-born Jōnin, promoted through merit. In raw strength, he wasn't even on par with prodigies like Uchiha Shisui. Yet fate had thrown him against one of Kirigakure's most feared swordsmen.
Before he could even react, more figures emerged from the mist—armed with enormous and uniquely shaped blades.
> "That's their commander?"
"Konoha must be desperate if this is the best they can send."
"Makes sense. Their main clans are tied up fighting Iwagakure and Kumogakure in the Land of Rain. Suna's keeping another portion of their forces busy too."
"Our declaration of war caught them off guard. No wonder they're this weak."
Their sneering voices echoed in the mist.
> "Konoha's really fallen. Once, Senju Hashirama alone could suppress the entire shinobi world. Uchiha Madara stood beside him as his equal."
"After Madara left, Konoha's strength was halved. Tobirama Senju held the line through sheer brilliance, but even he died in battle."
"Then came Sarutobi Hiruzen… a 'Professor,' sure—but too soft."
"And White Fang—Hatake Sakumo. Strong enough to rival the Sannin, yet his own village drove him to suicide."
Laughter broke out among the Mist-nin.
Their words were cruel, but not wrong. Konoha, once mighty, had become a shadow of its former self.
Miyamoto Yukie could barely focus on their taunts. His eyes fixed on the enemy before him—not one, but nearly all of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist.
Biwa Jūzō with the Executioner's Blade.
Kuriarare Kushimaru with the Needle Blade.
Jinpachi Munashi with the Explosive Blade.
Raiga Kurosuki with the Twin Blades.
Ameyuri Ringo with the Thunder Blades.
Watermelon Pufferfish Demon with the Sharkskin prototype blade.
And now—Tōsō Yairen, wielder of the Blunt Sword: Kabutowari.
Seven legendary killers… assembled together.
This wasn't a border skirmish—it was war.
Miyamoto's chest tightened. He finally understood: the higher-ups in Konoha had sent him here not to win, but to stall for time.
He clenched his fists in bitter rage.
"So this is how Konoha treats its own?" he thought. "We were never meant to survive this."
From the dense fog, another heavy voice emerged.
Tōsō Yairen stepped forward, his axe-and-hammer weapon glinting under the pale light.
"Hey," he said darkly, glaring at his subordinates.
"Is now really the time for idle chatter?"
The laughter stopped. The Seven Ninja Swordsmen turned toward Miyamoto Yukie as one—predators ready to strike.
And the Hidden Mist's slaughter began.