The border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Tea stretched wide before them. In between the two borders stood a giant 100 meter tall wall, dotted with fortresses of black stone every kilometre.
It reminded him of both the Great Wall of China, and the Wall in Attack on Titans.
Except, unlike the Great Wall of China, this wall actually saw some real use. And unlike the Wall in the Attack on Titans, this wall wasn't meant to keep humans in, but to keep the monsters confined within the Land of Tea, and stop them from spilling into the Land of Fire.
Each fort bristled with banners and spears, watchtowers gleaming under the afternoon sun. The air was heavy with the metallic scent of blood and Iron.
From his vantage atop a distant ridge, he could see the battle raging atop the wall. Thousands of monsters scaled its dark surface—claws scraping against stone, screeching in fury—only to meet the unyielding line of spears that awaited them. Dozens were impaled and thrown down, only to be replaced by the next wave of monsters that surged upward.
Thousands of men, led by veteran Samurai fought in tight, disciplined formation— their monster made armour clanking as they stopped every single monster from crossing over.
A few monsters still managed to slip through the gaps in the formations, but they were quickly taken care of by the veteran Samurai manning the place.
The Samurai might not use Ninjutsu like the shinobi did, but they had their own method to boost their body with the aid of Chakra, as well as various Sword techniques that made them no less lethal.
On another section of the wall, rows of archers released volleys of chakra-tipped arrows, lighting up the air with streaks of blue and red.
Many monsters fell, but many more continued to climb up the wall regardless. Undaunted by the deaths of their fellow monsters.
Spears thrust out in perfect unison as the front line braced against the incoming horde. The wall trembled with the clash—iron against hide, flesh against steel.
Their discipline impressed him. Every movement was measured, every command obeyed instantly. When a section of the wall began to buckle, the commander raised his blade and barked an order. Horns sounded. The rear guard surged forward, shields interlocked and, drove the monsters back.
'They must've fought dozens… no, hundreds of battles to become this good at it.' He thought in quiet awe.
Anko, standing beside him, crossed her arms. "Samurai don't mess around. You won't see formations like that in any shinobi squad. They might be individually weak, but together, they can stop a monster tide that even an elite shinobi squads would struggle against."
He nodded in acknowledgement and then placed his hand on the hilt of his brand new sword. A blade that he'd yet to give a name.
"Should we go and help them?" He asked. The warriors were doing incredibly well up in the wall, but some of them were still dying from time to time. Their aid could make a difference.
Anko's hand shot out to stop him. "Don't. If you step in now, they'll see it as an insult—and they'll turn their swords on you."
He frowned. "You're joking."
"I'm not. Most samurai barely tolerate shinobi. Help them, and you'll offend their pride. Even if it saves lives."
"That's ridiculous."
"Perhaps. But that's samurai for you. They tend to value their honour about their lives." She said with a shrug.
He grit his teeth but stayed put.
The battle raged on for another hour. When the lesser beasts began to fall in heaps, stronger ones emerged—hulking monsters with molten chakra dripping from their jaws, their roars shaking the forts.
Giant ballistae loaded with explosive tags fired from the fortress walls, detonating in waves of smoke and fire. The blasts killed many—but not all.
The survivors climbed higher.
The veteran samurai jumped forward and met them head-on, while great volleys of arrows rained down on those monsters.
And when the last roar faded, not a single monster had crossed the wall.
Admittedly, most of the monsters had been of Genin or Chunin tier. And even the large monster were only Jounin tier, with a rare few Elite Jounin tier monsters scattered among them. And they had to climb a 100 metre wall to attack the humans.
But the fact that the army was able to hold their own with such few casualties was still mind boggling to him.
"Can I go up and offer my help now?" He asked Anko, his palms glowing green to show her his mastery over Iryojutsu.
Anko hummed for a moment before she shrugged. "Might as well. But approach them slowly. The last thing we want to do right now is spook them."
He nodded and they slowly started walking over to the wall.
"Shinobi of Konoha" the commander spoke up once they were below the giant wall. His Chakra laced voice reaching to the bottom of the wall without any problem. "This isn't your battlefield. What brings shinobi to my border?"
"We were passing through and noticed the battle." Anko replied back. "My companion here is a Medic-nin and wishes to offer his services to tend to your wounded."
The Samurai commander was silent for a while before he replied. "Come up here so we may talk face to face."
He and Anko exchanged a glance before they started climbing up the wall. Slowly. Otherwise, with their speed, they could've reached the top within a second.
Once they were at the top, he came face to face with the Samurai and saw that he had taken off his Samurai helmet, revealing his Grey hair, and sharp wary eyes as the Samurai commander studied them.
The smell of blood was overwhelming up here. All around, soldiers harvested useful parts from the dead monsters, tossing the rest over the side. Below, Samurai walked forward with strange contraptions that spewed blue fire, burning the remains.
'So much waste.' He thought with a frown. Surprised that the Samurai weren't taking every pound of the meat for the sake of their army.
"I'll ask again. What brings two Konoha shinobi to this part of the world."
Anko moved and gave a brief explanation about the mission they need to perform deeper within the Land of Tea.
The commander listened in silence, then exhaled slowly. "You've chosen a poor time to come."
"What do you mean?" Anko asked.
"Those monsters… they weren't attacking us. They were fleeing. And we just happened to be on their path." The Commander said with a morose smile.
That sent a chill down his spine. "Fleeing from what?"
Before the commander could answer, a deep, thunderous gong rolled across the battlefield. The sound vibrated through the stone beneath their feet.
The commander's expression hardened. "The Swarm," he said. "It's early."
Another gong, louder this time.
Then chaos.
The same samurai who had faced thousands of monsters without flinching suddenly moved with desperate urgency. Orders were shouted. Drums pounded. Soldiers dropped everything—spears, blades, even their dead comrades—and ran for the forts.
"Come!" the commander barked. "If you wish to live, follow me!"
With that, the Commander barked a few more orders to his men before he too started hurrying to the closest fort.
He and Anko shared a worried glance before they too ran. Across blood-soaked wall, through fortified gates now thrown wide open.
The gong continued to toll all this while, as if heralding the arrival of some natural disaster. Through the gates, down into the fortress, the samurai poured in by the hundreds.
Just as the last of the Samurai had rushed in and the gates were about to close, he glanced up—and recoiled in shock.
Far on the horizon, a dark wave was approaching. It wasn't smoke. It wasn't storm clouds. It was alive. He knew because he could sense the millions of tiny chakra signatures that made the swarm, moving together like a single living ocean.
"The Swarm." The Commander spoke up, and despite his face remaining grim, his Kagura's Mind Eye picked up on the fear the commander was feeling.
The Commander barked out another order, and all the metal gates around the fortress closed shut.
Follow me!" the commander shouted again, leading them through the fort and into a spiraling stairway that plunged into the depths.
They descended fast. The air grew cold, damp. Torches flickered along the stone walls, lighting the faces of hundreds of samurai as they hurried downward. Behind them, doors slammed shut one by one, each etched with glowing fūinjutsu seals.
The deeper they went, the more distant the world above became—until the only sound left was the faint, vibrating hum that filled the earth.
His Kagura's Mind Eye stretched outward. The swarm had reached the wall. The millions of signatures consumed everything in their path—the monster corpses, the stragglers still breathing, even the smoke from the fires. Everything above was dying.
He swallowed hard, realisation settling like lead in his gut.
'That's why they burned the corpses… they didn't want to give more food to the swarm.'
At last, they reached a vast underground hall. The air was cool and still, the walls lined with weapon racks and sleeping quarters. As the final samurai filed in, the last door—a slab of solid stone nearly ten feet thick—shut with a resounding boom.
Darkness swallowed them—until a web of glowing seals flared to life, bathing the cavern in pale blue light.
He exhaled shakily and turned to the commander. "What the hell is that thing?"
The man pulled off his forearm guard, wiping the sweat from his face. "A swarm," he said grimly. "Flesh-eating, venomous insects. They migrate through the Land of Tea every few months. Eat everything—animals, monsters, people… even shinobi."
He noted, with a faint twitch of irritation, that the commander didn't include shinobi in the "people" category. Still, the man had just saved their lives, so he let it slide.
"How long do we stay down here?" he asked quietly.
"Until the sky stops screaming," the commander replied. "You'll know when it's over."
The commander gestured toward one of the side tunnels. "There are rooms deeper in. Rest while you can. Food will be brought soon."
As the commander left, the faint, muffled roar of countless wings echoed from far above—
A storm of hunger and death sweeping across the Land of Tea.
Or, as the people now called it…
The Land of Graves.
—————
The buzzing of the swarm never stopped.
All through the night, it filled the air—an endless, droning hum that pressed against his ears and made the walls seem to vibrate.
It wasn't just noise; it was movement of air. Millions of wings beating in unison somewhere above, a living storm circling restlessly over their heads.
He and Anko sat close together in the dim light of the underground chamber. Neither spoke much. There wasn't anything to say. The samurai had sealed the tunnels tight, but even so, a quiet unease lingered among everyone. The thought of those creatures finding a way to burrow through the earth kept them all awake.
Hours crawled by.
By the time dawn came, the buzzing finally began to fade. It didn't stop all at once—it ebbed slowly, like the receding tide of some monstrous ocean. The silence that followed felt almost alien.
Within an hour, only silence remained.
Still, the commander refused to open the gates. "We wait a bit longer," he explained. "The Swarm sometimes lingers."
So they waited. Eight more long, tense hours passed before the commander finally gave the all-clear.
The heavy stone doors rumbled open, letting in the harsh light of day. The commander turned toward him and Anko. "You two shinobi. Go up first. Make sure the surface is safe."
Technically, the man had no authority over them. But he had saved their lives— so they decided to follow his order this one time.
"Understood," he said, nodding once.
They moved quickly, leaping from ledge to ledge, scaling the narrow shafts that led back to the surface. The air grew warmer, fresher, and then—at last—they emerged atop the fortress wall.
Silence.
Not a sound. Not even the faint hum of insects.
He scanned the world below, his Kagura's Mind Eye spreading wide. The battlefield that had been alive with movement and death only a day ago was now utterly still. The plains on the Tea Country's side were empty. Not a monster, not a bird, not even a flicker of insect life.
Only dark stains marked the places where bodies—both human and monster—had once been. Every corpse was gone. Every bone, every scrap of flesh. Consumed.
"Damn… they killed everything," Anko muttered softly beside him.
He nodded grimly. "Not even the insects underground survived." He could tell—his chakra senses reached deep into the soil, but there was nothing. No rats, no beetles, no trace of life. The land itself felt hollow.
It creeped him out.
But then something else caught his attention.
The line of the wall. Beyond it—the Land of Fire—was untouched. The forests on that side still breathed with life. Birds sang in the distance.
For some reason, the swarm hadn't crossed over the wall.
When the commander finally climbed up to join them, the man stopped beside him, gazing out at the same silent expanse.
"Why didn't the swarm go to the Land of Fire?" he asked.
The commander shook his head slowly. "We don't know. They never do. For some reason, the swarm stays within the Land of Tea's borders. No one knows why."
He looked out across the dead fields again, uneasy. Something about that didn't sit right—but he decided not to dwell on it. This particular mystery was not his to solve.
"We still have a mission to finish," he said after a while.
Anko nodded.
They turned to the commander, offering a brief bow of gratitude. "Thank you. For letting us shelter here."
"Because you lot offered to heal my men." the man said simply. "It shows that even if you're shinobi, you still have some of your humanity left. Don't lose it."
He blinked… unsure of what to say to that. In the end, they decided that silence was enough.
With one last nod, they leapt from the wall, disappearing into the distance—leaving behind the silent fortresses and moving toward their destination.
Mount Tenra.