In the span of a single month, excluding ti spent resting and preparing, Arai led nearly ten raids against Agakure outposts.
What began as cautious probing gradually turned into confident, controlled strikes.
And with each mission, Yuji grew.
To Arai, that growth was the most gratifying part.
The combat techniques and battlefield awareness he taught weren’t ant for theory. They were ant to be tested in blood and danger. A shinobi’s future wasn’t decided in isolation, it was forged in real battle.
For every raid, they chose routes far apart from one another, avoiding repetition and minimizing the risk of predictable patterns.
Still, frequency breeds suspicion.
As the incursions increased, Agakure began to suspect that the Land of Wind was conducting a systematic harassnt campaign along the border.
After a particularly tense withdrawal during the last mission, one that ca closer to encirclent than Arai liked, he called an end to the rivalry between Sasori and Yuji.
Across the ten operations, both had won and lost in turns. In overall performance, it was a draw.
In sheer body count, Sasori had more kills. But what unsettled Arai wasn’t the numbers.
It was Yuji.
Especially that assassination technique, Blade Manipulation.
Its effect in actual combat was terrifying.
When Yuji explained that he had created it himself, inspired by puppeteer thods and Sasori’s chakra threads, Arai was left montarily speechless.
An eight-year-old genin. Fresh from the Academy.
Creating an A-rank ninjutsu?
He imdiately sent word back to Sunagakure, reporting the developnt to the Third Kazekage.
Every self-created ninjutsu strengthened the village. It was an asset. Of course, whether Yuji chose to contribute it formally would be his decision.
But from Arai’s observations, while the technique seed simple in principle, it was far from easy to master.
Chakra consumption was moderate. Control difficulty was manageable.
But the precision required to manipulate blades at range...
That was another matter.
Puppeteers had an easier ti adapting.
Sasori had attempted to replicate it using chakra threads. He could imitate the structure, but the power and lethality dropped significantly, closer to C-rank effectiveness.
The problem lay in feedback.
At extended distances, small blades lacked the tactile response of puppets. Control weakened. If chakra threads were used directly, stealth was compromised.
The true key was the wire’s material, and the blade’s size.
Without realizing it, three months had passed.
Yuji’s border patrol assignnt ca to an end. He would return to Sunagakure alongside Arai to submit the mission report.
These months had reshaped him. He was no longer just a talented dical-nin.
...
Agakure.
Hanzo sat in a traditional tatami room, bare-chested, a sake cup in hand. Several won leaned against him.
From a minor village hidden in perpetual rain, Agakure had risen largely because of him.
His prestige was absolute. Without Hanzo, there would be no Agakure.
But he understood sothing clearly now.
The war was ending. He could not overco Konoha, could not suppress Sunagakure.
Expansion had reached its limit.
He had gained what he sought.
He was now known as the Demigod of the Ninja World.
That was enough.
Yet as he listened to the intelligence report from the kneeling shinobi before him, his expression hardened.
A cold killing intent seeped into his gaze.
Compared to the great villages, Agakure’s foundation was fragile.
He had trained soldiers, forged elites but they lacked depth.
No generals capable of carrying the burden.
If he did not act personally, diocrity would prevail.
"Three people," Hanzo said quietly, voice heavy. "Nearly ten assaults on border outposts, and you let them leave alive."
"My lord," the shinobi stamred, bowing lower. "Among them is Arai, an Elite Jonin who serves the Third Kazekage as a Kage Guard. Another is Sasori, Chiyo’s grandson, a genius puppeteer..."
The Agakure shinobi kneeling before the low table struggled to steady his voice.
Border clashes between Sunagakure and Agakure were common. Skirmishes, probing attacks, nothing unusual.
But this was different.
Three people.
Just three.
In one month, they had crossed the border ten tis.
Each ti Agakure detected them. Each ti they withdrew quickly.
And each ti, they left bodies behind.
It wasn’t that Agakure had failed to notice them. It was that they failed to stop them.
By the ti heightened vigilance took effect, the losses had already piled up.
They hadn’t managed to kill a single one of the intruders.
Such negligence naturally infuriated Hanzo. Now, his subordinate was attempting to soften the blow.
One of the enemy was an Elite Jonin.
They were difficult to handle.
The implication was obvious: the fault lay not with Agakure’s incompetence, but with the enemy’s overwhelming strength.
Bang.
Hanzo ford a hand seal and vanished in a blur, Water Body Flicker.
In the next instant, he appeared behind the kneeling shinobi. His fist drove forward without hesitation.
The blow was devastating.
The man was hurled across the room, smashing through the wooden wall several ters away. Blood splattered across shattered beams.
It would have been better if the subordinate had said nothing about Sasori.
ntioning Chiyo’s grandson only made matters worse. Hanzo and Chiyo had clashed repeatedly.
Agakure’s setbacks against Sunagakure were, in large part, because of that old woman.
And now he was told she had a genius heir? The thought curdled his mood further.
The won in the room shrank back, trembling, not daring to breathe as Hanzo calmly shook the blood from his fist.
"Sasori..."
He stepped forward slowly.
His cold gaze settled on the intelligence report spread across the table.
It detailed the raids, casualty numbers, rough sketches of the intruders.
Hanzo knew Arai by na. As for Sasori, he had heard of him.
But the third child, who was he?
’Another genius?’
Hanzo’s eyes narrowed.
Geniuses.
Why did the great villages always produce them in abundance?
He let out a low, humorless laugh. He had seen many prodigies in this world.
Few survived, most died young.
If mory served, Chiyo’s own descendant had fallen to Konoha’s White Fang.
This Sasori... was already an orphan.
Rain tapped softly against the roof.
Agakure would shift to a defensive posture soon. Expansion had reached its limit. There was no need to overextend further.
But Sunagakure and Konoha were still locked in tension.
Opportunities existed.
"Kuro," Hanzo said.
A shadow flickered into the room. Another shinobi knelt silently behind him.
"Pass this intelligence to Konoha," Hanzo ordered evenly. "Emphasize the two youths. Magnify their reputations. Make their talent seem exceptional."
He paused.
"As for us, state that we suffered heavy losses."
The kneeling shinobi hesitated slightly.
"This..."
"Do as I say."
"Yes."
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