Strictly speaking, Kurenai hadn't been wrong at all.
Objectively speaking, if one stood close enough to the corpses, a faint scent really could be detected—sothing vaguely resembling the aroma of malt.
After carefully sniffing, Hagoromo could sense it as well, though his sense of sll was clearly not as sharp as so of his other faculties.
The Rain shinobi had died miserably. Their bodies were completely desiccated, shriveled into sothing like mummies. The skin on their faces and limbs had wrinkled into hardened strips, giving the eerie impression that they could be pulled into strands at any mont.
Given that, detecting a sll that might be normal at a dinner table but deeply unsettling on a corpse wasn't strange in itself.
But if soone actually felt hungry because of it, then there was a problem.
Just as that thought crossed Hagoromo's mind, Asuma Sarutobi suddenly spoke up, far too casually:
"…I'm kind of hungry now that you ntion it."
Hagoromo stared silently at the sky.
There was a saying: the only thing that can truly terrify humans is other humans.
At this mont, Hagoromo felt a very real sense of fear toward two of his own teammates.
Fate never ties red strings at random. Sowhere in the workings of destiny, sothing had clearly gone wrong—or perhaps gone exactly right. Otherwise, how could these two possibly end up together?
That said, hunger during a mission wasn't unusual. For long stretches, shinobi survived on soldier pills alone, and those things weren't ant to replace real als. Feeling hungry was inevitable.
Still—
Couldn't you at least read the room before speaking?
Hagoromo extended his right hand, pressed his index and middle fingers together, and gently touched the side of one corpse's neck.
There was still residual warmth.
Which ant these Rain shinobi had been killed very recently. Considering that fighting was still ongoing ahead, it implied sothing even more alarming:
These enemies had likely been instantly eliminated.
Asuma and Kurenai had made a couple of ill-tid remarks, and Hagoromo had internally thrown out a few sarcastic complaints—but now was absolutely not the ti for levity.
To be precise, the squad was in extre danger.
"This is Scorch Release, isn't it?" Hagoromo said, half to himself and half to the others.
"This kind of mass-produced mummification… it should be Scorch Release: Excessive Steam Kill."
"It is Excessive Steam Kill."
"Then the identity of the shinobi involved is obvious…"
"Sunagakure's Kekkei Genkai…"
"Sunagakure's hero…"
"Scorch Release—Pakura."
One sentence after another, the four of them pieced together the identity of one combatant almost effortlessly.
There was no helping it—this Kekkei Genkai was simply too distinctive. Any frontline shinobi with even a bit of experience and access to intelligence could identify the user imdiately.
After all, Pakura, the Scorch Release kunoichi of Sunagakure, was currently the only known shinobi capable of wielding that bloodline.
Before becoming a squad leader and being deployed to the front, Hagoromo had finally been issued a comprehensive shinobi intelligence handbook, containing profiles of notable ninja from various countries.
At the ti, he'd been exasperated—why hadn't anyone given him this earlier?
Pakura's na, identity, and combat traits had every reason to appear in Konoha's intelligence archives. During warti, every village cultivated its own "stars," and from a propaganda standpoint, Pakura of the Scorch Release was roughly equivalent to Konoha's Yellow Flash.
Scorch Release itself wasn't hard to understand. It was essentially a fusion of Wind and Fire Release, granting the ability to generate extre heat instantaneously—efficiently and cleanly evaporating the moisture inside an enemy's body, flash-cooking every organ except the bones.
The chanics weren't complicated.
The jutsus weren't flashy.
But Excessive Steam Kill was effectively undefendable.
You could only dodge it.
Anyone hit—even once—would instantly turn into long-lasting dried at with a shelf life of at least thirty centuries. Sprinkle on so salt, and you could probably add another ten.
Which led to the real question:
According to Konoha intelligence, Pakura had been stationed on the Sunagakure–Iwagakure front.
At this point in ti, relations between Sand and Stone were extrely unstable—another war could erupt at any mont.
So why was she here?
Why was she in the Land of Rain?
And more puzzling still—Sunagakure and Agakure had no formal alliance, but they maintained a tacit non-aggression understanding.
So why was she fighting Rain shinobi?
Questions piled up endlessly.
Should they go forward and investigate?
Or should they take advantage of Pakura drawing Rain's attention and quietly leave the Land of Rain?
Hagoromo hesitated.
If he were alone, he would have already decided to follow and take a look.
But he wasn't alone.
Three other shinobi stood behind him.
Investigating Pakura's actions was outside the scope of their mission—a classic case of unnecessary complications.
"I'll go take a look," Hagoromo began. "You guys—"
He intended to move alone.
But whether to have the others wait behind or retreat in advance, he couldn't decide.
Either option carried unknown risks.
Hagoromo wasn't especially good at long-term planning, but whenever he did plan, he had a habit of imagining the worst possible outcos.
Leave Asuma and the others behind—only for them to be surrounded by Rain shinobi.
Send them ahead—and they run into Rain shinobi, clash, draw reinforcents, and get surrounded anyway.
At that point, he thought bitterly—
Damn it, we might as well stick together.
At least if they died, they'd die as a group.
Then Asuma spoke up again, this ti more seriously:
"Hagoromo, we're a squad. We should act together."
He'd clearly seen Hagoromo's hesitation. Though this situation went beyond their mission paraters, Asuma judged that understanding Sunagakure's intentions could be critically important to Konoha.
As a shinobi exercising battlefield discretion, he chose to support Hagoromo's decision.
After all—
Peace treaties didn't magically create trust between forr enemies.
Hagoromo looked at Kurenai and Aoba next.
Both nodded almost simultaneously.
Consensus reached.
Hagoromo stopped hesitating, gave a decisive wave of his hand, and said:
"Let's go."
Taking a look wouldn't get them roasted. Probably.
The four advanced toward the source of the light.
Along the way, Rain shinobi corpses ford a grim trail—roughly twenty-three or twenty-four bodies in total.
All shared the sa horrific fate.
Not a single Sand shinobi corpse was visible.
Which led Hagoromo to suspect that Pakura had infiltrated alone.
The sounds of battle grew loud, almost within arm's reach. One more turn, and they would likely see the combatants.
The squad instantly heightened their caution.
A massive tree, thick enough for two people to embrace, blocked their view.
Hagoromo was just about to arrange a thod of observation—
When suddenly—
An orange-white fireball curved around the tree and burst directly into their field of vision, closing the distance to Hagoromo in an instant.
In less than a tenth of a second—far faster than normal human reflexes—the fireball began to expand.
Scorch Release.
And worse—
A wide-area Scorch Release attack.
Instinct took over.
Chidori exploded across Hagoromo's entire body.
Exposure didn't matter anymore.
Survival did.
He reached out, grabbed Kurenai, pulled her into a horizontal carry—
Then drove a full-power kick straight into Asuma's abdon.
No restraint.
Asuma folded instantly—upper and lower body collapsing inward, waist leading, limbs trailing—launched backward like an arrow.
He slamd directly into Aoba, and both were sent flying together.
Hagoromo didn't even look back.
Holding Kurenai, he sprinted at full speed.
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