Chapter 51 (Patreon)

The week passed quietly.

Near the border of the Land of Water, deep within a mist-covered valley, Yujiro, Kakashi, and Itachi were resting inside a cave, using the brief silence to repair their gear.

During the past week, the three of them had wiped out more than twenty Kirigakure outposts.

Almost three camps a day.

Countless Mist shinobi had died at their hands.

Their clothes were torn, their bodies marked with dust, blood, and cuts.

But their eyes were still bright.

After fighting beside Yujiro for a full week, Kakashi and Itachi’s view of him had completely changed.

Kakashi was older, but in the shinobi world, age meant little when strength spoke louder than anything else.

And Kakashi had seen it with his own eyes.

Yujiro cutting down a Jōnin with a single slash.

That image had burned itself into his mind.

At that moment, the fog outside the cave suddenly thickened.

Yujiro opened his eyes.

“Kakashi. Itachi.”

He picked up the black blade beside him.

“We’re surrounded.”

Kakashi and Itachi both nodded.

Their expressions remained calm.

Because this had been Yujiro’s plan from the beginning.

Instead of chasing the enemy through the mist one by one, they would expose their trail on purpose and let Kirigakure come to them.

Yujiro closed his eyes for a moment and quietly sensed the enemy’s numbers.

“Roughly fifteen Jōnin. Thirty Chūnin. The rest are Genin.”

Kakashi lifted his forehead protector, revealing his Sharingan.

Itachi’s eyes also changed, two tomoe slowly spinning within them.

Yujiro rested the black blade against his shoulder, the corner of his mouth rising slightly.

After this group was gone, one of his missions would be as good as complete.

“Scatter.”

His voice was low.

“Our target is simple.”

A sharp killing intent spread through the cave.

“Kill them all.”

The next instant—

The three of them shot out of the cave.

Yujiro moved first.

His black blade tore through the mist.

“Wind Style: Iai Slash!”

“Lightning Style: Raikiri!”

“Fire Style: Dragon Fire Technique!”

BOOM!

Explosions ripped through the valley.

The roar of ninjutsu mixed with screams, the clash of blades, and the sound of bodies falling into the wet earth.

The mist turned red.

At the border camp, Jiraiya stood with his arms crossed, staring toward the Land of Water with a troubled expression.

For the past two days, Kirigakure’s attacks had slowed down too much.

It was unnatural.

To find out what was happening behind enemy lines, he had sent a team of Jōnin, including members of the Yamanaka clan, to capture a Mist shinobi for interrogation.

Ten minutes later, the team returned.

They brought back a Kirigakure Chūnin.

The man had already been placed under a Yamanaka technique. His eyes were dull, and his voice came out flat, like a corpse speaking.

Jiraiya stepped closer.

“Why did Kirigakure’s attacks slow down?”

The Mist Chūnin answered without resistance.

“Our rear was attacked by an unknown team. Several supply routes were cut off. We had no choice but to stabilize our positions.”

Jiraiya’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you know who attacked you?”

“No. They move like ghosts. They strike at midnight and disappear before dawn.”

“What are your casualties?”

“In one week… twenty to thirty squads were wiped out.”

“What?”

Jiraiya’s expression changed.

The surrounding Konoha shinobi were just as stunned.

Kirigakure might not know who that ghost-like team was.

But Jiraiya did.

Yujiro. Kakashi. Uchiha Itachi.

At that moment, a Konoha shinobi rushed into the camp carrying a messenger crow.

“Report, Jiraiya-sama! We just received information from the frontline scouting unit!”

Jiraiya turned sharply.

“Speak.”

“Kirigakure has gathered nearly three hundred shinobi. They’re all moving toward a valley near the border!”

The shinobi swallowed hard.

“According to the report… they seem to have discovered Yujiro’s team!”

Jiraiya’s face darkened.

“When?”

“Three hours ago!”

“Gather the elite Jōnin!”

Jiraiya’s voice thundered through the camp.

“Everyone moves out with me!”

He had wanted this mission to serve as training for Yujiro and the others.

He knew Yujiro was strong.

But three hundred Mist shinobi was different.

No matter how strong Yujiro was, breaking through that kind of encirclement would be almost impossible.

At least, that was what Jiraiya believed.

After all, in his estimation, Yujiro’s strength should only be around Jōnin level.

At the border of the Land of Water, inside the dense valley—

The battle had already ended.

The ground was torn apart.

Broken stones, severed weapons, shattered masks, and bodies lay scattered across the valley.

Blood soaked the earth.

Amid the wreckage, three figures stood silently.

In the center stood Yujiro, dressed in a black martial arts uniform.

In his right hand was a black blade, dark as ink.

Blood slowly dripped from its edge.

Ding! Congratulations to the Host for completing the task of killing 300 Chūnin.

Reward: Water Attribute +30 unlock points.

Current Limiter: Level 2 — 45%.

When progress reaches 50%, the normal Level 2 Limiter state can be activated.

Genin kill progress: 412/1000.

Chūnin kill progress: 300/300. Completed.

Jōnin kill progress: 41/100.

Yujiro felt the strength inside his body rise again.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

Only this feeling—growing stronger—could make him smile like that.

But was he strong?

No.

Not yet.

In this war, his current strength was enough to create terrifying results.

But against a true Kage-level shinobi, he was still lacking.

A real Kage could slaughter Jōnin far more easily than this.

Yujiro had needed half a day.

That gap was still there.

And he understood something clearly.

In the later stages of the shinobi world, Jōnin were nothing.

Even Kage-level shinobi could become cannon fodder before those monsters.

Wide-range attacks.

Tailed Beast-level destruction.

Godlike eyes.

Planet-shaking power.

Compared to that, he was still far from enough.

Unlocking the Limiter was his first real goal.

Yujiro turned his gaze toward the deeper mist.

“Let’s move.”

Kakashi and Itachi looked at him.

“The next stronghold.”

The location had been forced out by Itachi’s genjutsu not long ago.

A moment later, the three figures disappeared from the ruined valley.

Half an hour after they left, Jiraiya arrived with Konoha’s elite shinobi.

The moment they entered the valley, everyone stopped.

No one spoke.

The corpses spread across the mountainside and the blood-soaked earth said enough.

These were the three hundred elite Mist shinobi mentioned in the report.

All of them were dead.

Most had either been pierced through the heart or cut down by a blade.

There was no need to ask who had done it.

This was Yujiro’s team.

Jiraiya stood among the corpses, his expression frozen in shock.

For a long moment, even he could not find words.

Then his eyes slowly narrowed.

The feeling inside him grew stronger than ever.

Yujiro…

Maybe this boy really was the child of prophecy he had been searching for.