The enemy's assault came without warning. After only a brief exchange of words, they struck to kill.
For ordinary ninja, the dense fog would have rendered them almost helpless—unable to properly respond to the earlier volley of shuriken, let alone the Water Release attack that followed.
Unfortunately for the Mist-nin, the opponents they faced were all Hyūga clan shinobi—wielders of the Byakugan bloodline limit.
The fog, thick as it was, could not interfere with the Byakugan's vision. The moment the Water Bullets were fired, the Hyūga shinobi scattered in perfect unison, vanishing from their original positions as the water blasts smashed into the ground where they had stood.
The Byakugan and Sharingan were both dōjutsu, but they had vastly different focuses.
The Sharingan specialized in perception—reading chakra and predicting movement—but its true potential only awakened at the level of the Mangekyō. Each user manifested a unique ability, something the Byakugan did not possess.
The Byakugan, however, combined clairvoyant sight and X-ray vision. It could see through solid matter, and even certain barrier jutsu could not block its gaze.
Thus, while the Sharingan's sight was hindered by the Mist's signature "Hidden Mist Technique," the Byakugan pierced through it effortlessly.
"Huh?"
A surprised murmur came from within the mist—the enemy hadn't expected this Konoha reconnaissance squad to evade their ambush so easily.
Their strength was far beyond what he had encountered in previous skirmishes with Konoha squads.
Typically, front-line teams followed a mentor system: a veteran leading younger shinobi. During this heated phase of the Third Great Ninja War, both Konoha and the Mist had suffered heavy losses among their elites, forcing them to fill the ranks with inexperienced youth.
Most field squads followed the one-jōnin-three-genin model. The more elite formations might field a jōnin, a chūnin, and two genin. Even that would already qualify as a special unit.
In the shinobi world, genin made up the majority. A chūnin was already capable of leading a team—a minority. As for jōnin, they were rare enough to sway the course of entire battles.
Yet in Hyūga Shinichi's escort unit, there were no genin at all. Every member was at least chūnin-level or higher.
The Byakugan guaranteed a certain level of skill and awareness in every Hyūga who wielded it.
After just a brief exchange, the Mist-nin already realized that this was no ordinary enemy.
The Hyūga, fast and coordinated, had no intention of simply holding out for reinforcements. Even though most of them were branch family members, their pride as Hyūga would never allow them to stay on the defensive.
"Leave one alive for interrogation—kill the rest!"
Hyūga Yūta leaped onto a nearby tree branch, scanning the fog-enshrouded forest before issuing his command.
"Yes, sir!"
The Hyūga split up, each choosing a target before diving into the mist. Within seconds, the forest erupted with the sounds of battle—shouts, clashes, and bursts of chakra.
Meanwhile, one Mist-nin had spotted Yūta's position and lunged toward him.
Whoosh—!
A massive blade whistled through the air, cleaving downward toward his head. Yūta reacted instantly, ducking low and springing off the branch.
A split-second later, the blade smashed into the trunk—crack!—cleanly slicing through the tree, thick enough for three men to encircle. As the massive trunk began to fall, Yūta glanced up and rolled aside just in time.
Boom!
The ground shuddered as the tree hit the earth. Yūta barely had time to rise when he felt danger at his back. He twisted, kunai flashing to intercept.
"Haah!"
A roar came from behind, and the same enormous blade tore through the mist, crashing into Yūta's kunai. The sheer force sent him flying, his weapon clanging violently in his grip.
Thud!
He hit the ground hard, rolling several times before skidding to a stop, his body caked in mud.
As he crouched low, his expression hardened.
"Such strength… and speed!"
Even with the Byakugan allowing him to see every move, Yūta struggled to keep up. His opponent's raw power was overwhelming—clearly not just any jōnin, but an elite among them.
The mist thinned slightly, and a figure emerged.
A man with short-cropped hair, the Mist Village forehead protector on his brow like dripping rain, and strange red markings across his mouth. When he grinned, jagged, shark-like teeth gleamed in the dim light.
Yūta's pupils constricted. He recognized him instantly.
"One of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist—the wielder of the Executioner's Blade, Jūzō Biwa!?"
From discovery to confrontation, everything had happened in moments. Only now did Yūta realize the true scale of their misfortune.
The Seven Ninja Swordsmen—a name feared across nations. Though several had been slain years ago by a single Konoha genin, their reputation had not diminished.
They were the Mist's most elite seven jōnin, second only to the Mizukage himself. Each wielded a legendary blade, amplifying their already fearsome power to near-superhuman levels.
Even Yūta, proud as he was, felt a chill of dread. The brief clash had told him enough—he was no match for this man.
Hyūga fought with precision and chakra control, but Yūta was being crushed in both speed and strength. The Byakugan's insight only delayed the inevitable.
He'd need to change tactics—fast.
"You blocked that?"
Jūzō looked genuinely surprised. To deflect his Executioner's Blade with a single kunai was no small feat. When he noticed Yūta's pale, all-seeing eyes, his expression shifted to understanding.
"Ah… a Hyūga, huh?"
Konoha's Hyūga clan was famous, even in the Mist. Realizing his opponent's lineage, Jūzō gave a humorless grin. The Hyūga's Byakugan and Gentle Fist—he'd heard of them, and even seen them in action. It made sense now that his strike had been stopped.
"I heard the Hyūga head was ambushed and injured by Ao," he said with a sneer. "Konoha sent a whole escort of elites to get him home."
"Didn't expect to run into one of you out here, though."
Still muttering to himself, Jūzō raised his Executioner's Blade again and charged.
His team's mission was to intercept a Konoha supply officer. Their scouts had learned of a weapons shipment bound for the front lines, and Jūzō's squad had been sent to ambush it.
Everything had gone smoothly—until they stumbled upon this reconnaissance unit.
He decided then and there—he would eliminate them all to ensure no one reported back.
Yūta, realizing he couldn't overpower Jūzō, fought defensively—parrying with his kunai, using precise footwork to retreat and buy time. His Byakugan swept the battlefield, assessing his comrades' situations.
There were six Mist-nin in total. Jūzō himself pressed the attack against Yūta, while four others surrounded two Hyūga. The last Mist-nin was locked in fierce combat with one of Yūta's teammates.
The pair being surrounded were holding out—barely—but their superior perception was keeping them alive.
Meanwhile, in another part of the fog, a Hyūga had already gained the upper hand, sealing several of his opponent's chakra points. Victory was close there.
If the battle continued at this rate, they might survive even without reinforcements.
Jūzō pressed the attack harder, each swing of his blade forcing Yūta further back. The Mist swordsman was clearly enjoying himself.
But just as he raised his blade for another strike—
"Help! My opponent's a Hyūga! Someone help me surround him!"
A desperate shout came from the fog. One of the Mist-nin, losing control of his chakra flow, had realized he was moments from death.
"A Hyūga?"
Jūzō blinked, glancing at Yūta's pale eyes.
"What are you talking about? We're the ones surrounding the Hyūga!"
"Your opponent's a Hyūga too?"
Another confused voice called through the fog—followed by the clang of steel on steel.
The Hidden Mist Technique obscured vision for both enemy and ally. The Mist-nin could sense chakra signatures, but not identities—until they clashed directly.
Only now did they realize every one of their foes had the Byakugan.
"Another Hyūga?"
Confusion spread through the Mist squad. By all logic, there shouldn't be this many Hyūga in a single reconnaissance team.
Unless…
Jūzō's strikes slowed. His brow furrowed in thought. If his subordinates weren't mistaken, this wasn't an ordinary squad—it was something far more dangerous.
Before he could process it, however, the chakra-infused mist trembled—his sensory technique picking up dozens of new signatures.
Ten… no, seventeen ninja—rapidly closing in, forming a perfect encirclement around the battlefield.
His heart sank.
"Don't tell me…"
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