Saiki glided through the air, his silhouette cutting through the sky a thousand meters up. The white cloud beneath his feet felt as solid as stone, reinforced by his pure Sage Chakra.
The gale howled around them, whipping their clothes.
Mei Terumi was pulled tight against Saiki's side, his left arm locked around her waist. The grip didn't hurt, but she found it impossible to move an inch.
Her strong, ample chest was pressed firmly against his warm torso. She could feel the steady, untroubled rhythm of his heartbeat and his slow, measured breathing.
"Let me go!" Mei struggled, but his arm was like a band of cold iron.
Saiki glanced down at her.
From this angle, he could see her long auburn hair dancing in the wind, exposing her pale neck and the deep red of her blushing ears.
Her eyes were full of fury and shame, her emerald pupils burning like fire.
"Stay still," Saiki's voice was calm against the roar of the wind. "If you fall from here, you die."
"Then release me! I can—"
Before she could finish, Saiki's right hand rose. He gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from her cheek, his fingertips intentionally grazing her sensitive earlobe.
Mei went rigid. A violent blush of shame and anger flooded her face. "You... what are you doing?!"
"Your hair was messy," Saiki said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But he didn't pull his hand back; it slid down to her long neck, lingering for a heartbeat to feel the rapid pulse beneath her skin.
"Shameless!" Mei gritted her teeth, trying to jerk her head away. Saiki simply caught her chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look him in the eye.
Their gazes locked.
Saiki's eyes held no lust; he was appraising her like a piece of fine art.
But this detachment only infuriated Mei further—to him, she wasn't a living person, but an... object? A trophy?
"You are very beautiful," Saiki said suddenly. "But you'll never get married."
"You... you little...!" Mei wanted to explode, but she was trapped.
"I'm just stating a fact," Saiki said, releasing her chin to pull her waist tighter. "Whether you submit or not... it doesn't matter."
It doesn't matter.
Those three words shattered Mei's pride.
To a being who could erase Ao and Zabuza on a whim, her will, her thoughts, and her feelings were indeed irrelevant.
She was just a captive. A prize of war.
Saiki's fingers roamed slightly over her waist. Through the thin fabric of her uniform, he could feel the tight, supple curves of her body.
The gesture was possessively dominant, yet he did it so naturally that it felt inevitable.
Mei closed her eyes and stopped struggling.
It wasn't surrender; it was conservation of energy.
She was waiting for an opening—waiting for her comrades at the camp to spot them, waiting for the Mizukage and the Seven Swordsmen to strike... waiting for...
A chance to kill him.
But what she didn't know was that Saiki wasn't taking her to the camp to be rescued.
He was taking her there... to witness the death of her home.
Fifteen minutes later, the Mist camp appeared.
It was a gargantuan fortress built on a coastal island, nestled against the mountains and facing the sea.
The perimeter was bristling with watchtowers, barriers, and fortifications. Several war-ships were anchored in the bay. Inside, thousands of ninjas bustled between tents.
As one of the Five Great Villages, the Mist's military might was formidable.
Especially on their home turf, they held every advantage of terrain.
But as Saiki descended on his cloud toward the main gate, all those advantages became a joke.
"What is that?!"
"Someone is in the sky!"
"A Leaf ninja?! Is that... Lady Mei in his arms?!"
The sentries shrieked in alarm, and the camp erupted with sirens.
Dozens of Mist shinobi poured out from the barracks, staring up at the two figures. They hesitated to attack—Mei was in his arms.
Saiki hovered fifteen meters above the ground, looking down at the panicked crowd.
He raised his right hand, palm toward the sky.
Blue-white sparks danced across his palm, emitting a sharp "crackle."
"Is he weaving a sign?!"
"No signs! What kind of jutsu is that?!"
Saiki said nothing. He closed his hand into a fist.
The sparks in his palm detonated, transforming into dozens of microscopic lightning bolts that rained down on the Mist ninjas like a storm of needles.
"DODGE!!!"
Someone screamed, but it was too late.
The speed of the blue-white bolts transcended visual tracking. One moment they were in the air; the next, they had found their targets.
SQUELCH— SQUELCH— SQUELCH—
A relentless series of quiet thuds followed.
Every bolt accurately pierced a Mist ninja through the heart or the center of the forehead. No collateral damage. No collateral noise.
The targets died instantly, failing to even let out a final cry.
In just three seconds, the dozens of ninjas gathered at the gate were gone.
Corpses littered the stone path, blood snaking through the cracks to form small, dark-red rivers.
Silence.
The survivors further back were paralyzed. They hadn't even seen the attack, yet their comrades were all dead.
"Monster... he's a monster..."
Someone collapsed to their knees, whispering to themselves.
Saiki, still holding Mei, landed in the center of the graveyard.
He released her waist, but grabbed her wrist instead—not out of fear she'd run, but... leading her.
Like a master leading a pet.
"Let's go," he said. "Take me to your Kage."
Mei was shivering violently. Watching her friends turned into cold meat filled her with a rage that was quickly being consumed by a deeper powerlessness.
The gap was too vast.
Fury was becoming a luxury she couldn't afford.
"WHO DARES?!"
A roar erupted from the depths of the camp.
Seven figures blurred from different directions, landing in a semi-circle around Saiki.
The Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, fully assembled.
From left to right:
Juzo Biwa, wielding the massive Executioner's Blade, a cruel grin on his face.
Fuguki Suikazan, his bloated frame carrying the bandage-wrapped Samehada.
Kushimaru Kuriarare, holding the thin Longsword: Nuibari, his eyes cold.
Jinin Akebino, with his hammer-and-axe combo, Blunt Sword: Kabutowari.
Jinpachi Munashi, the Explosive Sword: Shibuki slung over his shoulder.
Raiga Kurosuki, dual-wielding the Lightning Sword: Kiba, electricity arcing between the blades.
And an unnamed elite wielding the Twin Sword: Hiramekarei.
The Mist's greatest martial assets were gathered in one spot.
And behind them, a small figure approached slowly.
Spiky brown hair, a child's build, yet radiating a suffocating, gargantuan chakra—the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura Karatachi.
His eyes were freezing, devoid of all warmth. The faint Tailed Beast aura around him proved he could go full-release at a moment's notice.
"Mei," Yagura said, his voice youthful yet commanding. "You have been captured?"
Mei gritted her teeth. "Lord Mizukage... run! Get away! This person... is not someone we can fight!"
The Seven Swordsmen frowned at the warning.
Juzo Biwa chuckled. "Mei, have you lost your mind? So he killed a few trash-mobs. We are the Seven Swordsmen. We have the Mizukage. What can one boy do against us?"
Fuguki Suikazan licked his lips. "The boy looks delicate. His chakra must be delicious... Samehada is hungry."
Saiki's gaze swept over the swordsmen, finally landing on Yagura.
"Yagura," he said flatly. "Did you become Mizukage this early?"
Saiki was genuinely curious; it didn't quite match his memory of the timeline. But to the Mist ninjas, it sounded like the ultimate insult.
Extreme arrogance.
"Take him," Yagura ordered. "Keep him alive. I want to know the Leaf's plans."
The Seven Swordsmen moved as one!
Juzo Biwa was the first to strike.
He gripped the Executioner's Blade with both hands, the massive hunk of steel shrieking through the air as it descended toward Saiki's skull!
The blow was heavy enough to split a mountain, but the true terror was the blade's trait—it would repair itself with blood. Juzo never feared a collision.
Saiki didn't even look at the giant sword.
He simply raised his right hand and gripped the hilt of his own tachi.
He drew the blade.
The motion was slow—so slow that everyone could see every inch of the steel leaving the scabbard.
The blade was ordinary steel. No chakra, no light.
Then, he swung.
Against the falling Executioner's Blade, he met it head-on.
CLANG—!!!
A deafening screech of metal on metal exploded!
Sparks geysered!
The grin on Juzo's face vanished.
He watched as his legendary blade—the one that could absorb blood to heal itself—collided with Saiki's "ordinary" sword and...
It shattered.
It wasn't notched. It didn't fly out of his hands.
Saiki's strike acted like a sledgehammer.
Starting from the point of impact, cracks raced down the Executioner's Blade.
Like glass struck by a mallet, the legendary sword disintegrated into thousands of shards.
Then—
BOOM!
The shards were propelled back at Juzo by the kinetic force of the impact!
"Wha—?!"
Juzo didn't even have time to blink before the shards perforated his body.
His chest, stomach, and limbs were riddled with dozens of bloody holes.
He stared wide-eyed at his ruined body, unable to believe his sword had killed him.
Thud.
Juzo Biwa hit the ground, dead before his eyes could close.
One swing. The Executioner's Blade was dust, and Juzo was dead.
Total silence.
The other six swordsmen froze in mid-motion.
"BASTARD!!!"
Fuguki Suikazan roared, unslung Samehada, and slammed it toward Saiki!
The bandages exploded, revealing the ugly, living sword covered in scales and spikes.
It opened its "mouth," letting out a weird shriek as it tried to bite Saiki!
Samehada's specialty was devouring chakra. No jutsu, no energy defense could stop it. If it touched a man, he would be a husk in seconds.
Facing the hungry beast, Saiki remained still.
He sheathed his sword and reached out with his bare right hand toward Samehada's head.
"Die!" Fuguki sneered. "Samehada will suck you dry!"
The sneer died instantly.
Saiki's hand caught the top of Samehada's head, gripping the spikes with a crushing force.
Samehada writhed violently, its spikes growing rapidly to pierce Saiki's palm and drain him.
But—
The spikes snapped like dry twigs the moment they touched Saiki's skin.
And Samehada's ability to drain chakra... failed.
It couldn't sense any chakra.
Saiki's body wasn't filled with chakra; it was filled with primordial Sage energy.
The energy level was so high that Samehada couldn't even register it, let alone consume it.
"AWOOOOO..." Samehada let out a pained whimper, thrashing in terror.
Saiki's grip tightened.
CRACK.
The "skull" of the sword was crushed. A wave of force flooded the living weapon, and the once-terrifying Samehada went limp, becoming a dead object.
Fuguki's pupils shrank. He tried to retreat, but it was too late.
Saiki drew his tachi again and made a casual swipe.
A flash of light.
Fuguki's bloated body was sliced perfectly in half down the center. He fell in two pieces, his organs painting the stone.
Saiki leaned down, picked up the limp Samehada, and looked at it.
"Interesting creature," he critiqued. "But too weak."
He tossed the remains aside like garbage. The sword that had terrified generations was now junk.
Two swings.
Juzo was gone. Fuguki was gone.
The Seven Swordsmen had been reduced to five.
The survivors looked at each other, their faces ashen.
Even Mei Terumi closed her eyes—she knew the script was already written.
...
"ENOUGH!!!"
Yagura's roar shook the camp.
He could no longer stand by.
The Seven Swordsmen were his elite, the martial pillar of his rule.
To see two of them slaughtered like livestock before his eyes was a humiliation he couldn't endure.
Scorching red Tailed Beast chakra exploded from Yagura's body!
Three tails of pure energy manifested behind him. His skin was covered in a dark red chakra-cloak. His nails turned to talons, his teeth grew sharp, and his eyes became feral slits.
The Three-Tails: Version 2 Cloak!
"I WILL KILL YOU!!!"
Yagura shrieked, transforming into a red blur as he lunged at Saiki!
His speed was beyond the comprehension of ordinary ninjas; the ground shattered in his wake, and the air cracked with his momentum!
This was the power of a Tailed Beast—a disaster of nature!
Facing the berserk Yagura, Saiki finally... showed a tiny bit of effort.
He released Mei's wrist and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest.
The move was so natural that Mei didn't even realize she had anchored her arms around his neck.
"Hold tight," Saiki whispered into her ear.
Mei obeyed instinctively, burying her face in his shoulder.
Then, Saiki moved.
He didn't dodge the lunge. He met it head-on!
Holding Mei with his left arm, he gripped his sword with his right. The blade ignited with a pale white glow—faint, yet carrying the will to sever the laws of the universe.
The man and the beast crossed paths in mid-air.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl.
Everyone saw Saiki's blade pierce Yagura's chest with surgical precision.
The steel entered the heart and exited through the back.
There was no spray of blood; the white energy on the blade had vaporized the surrounding life-force in a millisecond.
Yagura's momentum died instantly.
He looked down at the blade protruding from his chest, his eyes full of a blank, hollow confusion.
The Tailed Beast cloak... had been bypassed?
"You..." Yagura opened his mouth, but only dark red froth escaped.
Saiki flicked his wrist and withdrew the blade.
Yagura's frame shivered. The cloak evaporated, leaving him in his fragile, child-like human form.
He collapsed into the mud, a transparent hole through his chest.
The Fourth Mizukage, Yagura Karatachi, was dead.
The camp fell into a deathly silence.
Even the wind stopped blowing.
Every Mist ninja stared at the corpse of their God-King—the Jinchuriki they viewed as invincible—slaughtered in one move.
Their faith disintegrated.
"Lord... Mizukage..."
Kushimaru Kuriarare's voice shook. He gripped his Nuibari, his eyes turning manic. "AVENGE THE MIZUKAGE!!!!"
The remaining five Swordsmen lunged simultaneously!
Kushimaru's Nuibari became two silver streaks, aiming for Saiki's vitals—this blade could sew a man's body together, rendering him a prisoner of his own flesh.
Jinin Akebino raised Kabutowari, the hammer-and-axe combo descending with enough force to break any shield!
Jinpachi Munashi swung Shibuki, the explosive scrolls on the blade detonating in a chain reaction of fire!
Raiga Kurosuki crossed the Kiba blades, sending two massive lightning dragons tearing through the earth!
The unnamed elite merged the Hiramekarei blades into a massive blue energy-hammer, slamming it down!
Five masters, five legendary traits, one target.
It was an assault capable of erasing a forest.
Saiki stood still, his arm still wrapped around Mei Terumi's waist.
He didn't even swing his sword.
He simply flared his white aura a fraction brighter.
Then—
Nuibari struck the glow; the needle-tip bent and snapped.
Kabutowari hit the aura; the hammer and axe bounced back, the steel developing deep fractures.
The explosions from Shibuki scorched the surface of the glow but failed to penetrate a single millimeter.
The lightning dragons from Kiba struck the barrier and were absorbed into the void without a sound.
The Hiramekarei energy hammer shattered against the glow, sending a harmless ripple through the air.
The full might of the Mist's pride hadn't even touched his clothes.
"Are you finished playing?" Saiki finally spoke.
He made a few rapid, casual waves with his sword.
Three arcs of white light expanded from his trail.
Kushimaru tried to dodge, but the light was too fast; it pierced his forehead.
Jinin raised his blunt sword to block, but the light sliced through the hammer and his body.
Jinpachi tried to detonate his remaining scrolls for a suicide strike, but the light cut the blade and the man in two.
Three lights. Three lives.
Raiga Kurosuki and the Hiramekarei user saw the script and immediately turned to flee!
They finally understood—this wasn't a battle. It was an extermination.
Staying meant death.
But Saiki wasn't about to let them go.
He released Mei and flickered, appearing behind Raiga.
Raiga felt the breath of death and swung his Kiba blades backward in a blind parry!
Saiki didn't dodge; he caught the blades with his bare hand.
The berserk electricity on the steel turned as docile as a pet, receding into the metal the moment he touched it.
"These," Saiki critiqued, "actually have some value."
He flicked his wrist.
CRACK.
Raiga's arms were shattered by the vibration, and the blades fell from his hands.
Saiki caught them and made a casual sweep.
Raiga was decapitated in a heartbeat.
The last elite with Hiramekarei had escaped fifty meters, but Saiki simply flicked one of the Kiba blades. The energy bolt took the man's head off before he could take another step.
With a mental tug, Saiki pulled Hiramekarei to his hand through the air.
The Seven Ninja Swordsmen were extinct.
The Fourth Mizukage was dead.
The hundreds of Mist ninjas remaining in the camp collapsed into the mud, their eyes hollow, their spirits broken beyond repair.
Saiki thrust the Lightning Blades and Hiramekarei into the ground like grave markers. He walked back to Mei Terumi and wrapped his arm around her waist once more.
Throughout the entire slaughter, he had barely let her go.
He held her while fighting, held her while killing, and held her now.
Mei leaned against him, her body like ice.
She looked at the corpses, at her dead King, at her slaughtered elite, and at her broken countrymen...
The last spark of light in her emerald eyes died out.
It was replaced by a bottomless...
Despair.
Saiki leaned down and whispered into her ear:
"Now... do you understand?"
Mei didn't answer.
She simply closed her eyes, and a single, silent tear rolled down her cheek.
It wasn't a tear of rage or grief.
It was the purest form of despair—the tear of a woman whose world had been incinerated.
Saiki held her, looking out toward the distant horizon where the sun was sinking into the ocean, painting the world the color of blood.
Just like the camp.
Just like the era.