Chapter 62 (Patreon)

“Whew…”

Mihawk slowly released the breath he had been holding.

There was no excitement on his face after unleashing that final Ranged Slash. He simply landed atop the snow-white forest of bones and lowered himself onto one of the thicker branches.

His sword rested across his knees as he closed his eyes.

He was merely trying to calm the violent exhaustion spreading through his body.

That last strike had surpassed his current limit.

The Breath of All Things did not consume chakra by itself, but that did not mean using it came without a cost.

A swordsman who had reached that realm could hear the breathing of all things. However, the point from which that breath emerged was never fixed. It shifted with every passing second, constantly changing from one place to another.

To cut something that normally could not be cut, the swordsman had to seize the exact instant when its breath revealed itself and guide the blade toward that point without the slightest hesitation.

Doing so required absolute concentration.

The mind had to cast aside every unnecessary thought. The senses had to be sharpened to their limit, while the brain processed every movement, sound, and change occurring around the swordsman.

The burden did not fall upon the body alone.

It exhausted the mind and spirit just as severely.

After unleashing that strike, Mihawk felt a level of mental fatigue he had never experienced before.

The sensation of walking along the boundary between life and death still lingered in his nerves. His muscles trembled uncontrollably, and when he attempted to raise his right hand, his response was noticeably slower than usual.

It felt as though a heavy stone had been tied to his arm.

Even so, he was far from helpless.

His body was exhausted, but his consciousness remained clear. If another enemy appeared, Mihawk could still draw his sword. He simply would not be able to unleash another attack of the same magnitude.

For the moment, he needed to recover his breathing and allow his strained nerves to settle.

With his eyes closed, Mihawk’s awareness gradually sank into a silent darkness.

Countless scenes flickered through that empty space.

All of them were memories of the years he had spent training with the sword.

When he had first arrived in this unfamiliar world, he had rejected everything around him.

He had felt no excitement upon learning that chakra, ninjutsu, and extraordinary powers truly existed. Nor had he been filled with confidence merely because he possessed knowledge of events that had yet to occur.

All he had felt was fear.

He had been an ordinary person thrown into a world where children were trained to kill and entire villages could be erased overnight.

Knowing part of the future had not reassured him.

It had only made him more aware of how fragile his life truly was.

For a long time, panic and despair had followed him wherever he went.

Then, one day, while wandering through the forest without any particular destination, he encountered three children bullying a young girl.

Perhaps he had acted because he could not ignore what was happening.

Perhaps he had merely wanted somewhere to direct all the resentment he felt toward his new life.

Whatever the reason, he had rushed forward.

It was only a small incident, but from that moment onward, the darkness surrounding him had finally begun to crack.

A long-delayed dawn had appeared.

After that came the sword.

He trained day after day without allowing himself to stop.

At first, he swung the blade simply because he wanted to survive.

Later, he trained because he had decided to walk the path of the strong.

Eventually, the reason itself ceased to matter.

He had fallen in love with the sword.

He loved the sensation of swinging it.

He loved the moment when the blade cut cleanly through the air.

He loved hearing the breathing hidden within all things.

Most of all, he loved that perfect instant when his sword reached its target and severed everything in its path.

Wood, stone, steel, flesh, and bone…

The certainty of the blade passing through them was indescribably satisfying.

To cut what stood before him.

To continue advancing along the path of the sword.

That was enough.

Mihawk’s eyes slowly opened.

During the time he had spent resting, the trembling in his fingers had completely disappeared. His breathing was calm, and strength had returned to every part of his body.

The sound of approaching footsteps reached him from beyond the bone forest.

Temari and Kankurō soon appeared among the shattered trees.

Both of them stopped the moment they saw the destruction surrounding Mihawk.

The vast field had been transformed into a forest of pale bones. Beyond it, an enormous section of woodland had been flattened, as though an invisible giant had swept a blade across the earth.

Farther away, the side of a mountain had been split open.

A deep scar stretched across the rock, marking the path of Mihawk’s final Ranged Slash.

Temari stared at the distant mountain without speaking.

Kankurō’s expression stiffened beneath his face paint.

The destruction could only have been caused by an attack with power comparable to an S-rank ninjutsu.

Yet there were no traces of a large-scale chakra technique.

Only the unmistakable marks left behind by a sword.

Mihawk rose from the bone beneath him and returned his sword to its sheath.

Temari’s gaze moved over him briefly.

“Can you still move?”

Mihawk flexed the fingers of his right hand. The exhaustion was gone, and his breathing had already returned to normal.

“I’m back to full strength.”

“Then we should catch up with Gaara. He may have already reached Naruto by now.”

Mihawk gave a slight nod.

“Let’s go.”

The three of them followed the trail leading toward the Valley of the End.

Mihawk moved through the forest without slowing, keeping pace with Temari and Kankurō as they crossed the cliffs and followed Gaara’s trail toward the Valley of the End.

They had not gone far when another figure appeared ahead of them.

Gaara emerged from between the trees, supporting the unconscious Naruto against his side.

Naruto’s clothes were torn, and his body was covered in injuries. The forehead protector Sasuke had scratched rested against his chest.

Sasuke was nowhere to be seen.

Temari and Kankurō immediately hurried forward.

“What happened?” Temari asked.

“I found him near the river at the Valley of the End,” Gaara answered. “Sasuke was already gone.”

Mihawk approached Naruto and crouched beside him.

He placed two fingers against Naruto’s neck before briefly checking his breathing.

“He’s alive.”

Gaara carefully lowered Naruto to the ground, making sure not to aggravate his injuries.

A moment later, movement came from the forest behind them.

Kakashi Hatake emerged from among the trees with Pakkun beside him.

His usual lazy expression disappeared the moment he saw Naruto lying there. He immediately moved to Naruto’s side and performed a more thorough examination.

Although Naruto’s wounds were serious, his life was not in immediate danger.

Kakashi lifted him onto his back.

His single visible eye then swept over Mihawk and the three Sand shinobi.

“What about the others?”

“Scattered along the route,” Pakkun answered. “My pack has already located most of them.”

Mihawk turned toward the small ninken.

“Hinata?”

Pakkun glanced up at him.

“One of my companions found her farther west. She’s unconscious, but her breathing is stable.”

The tension in Mihawk’s gaze eased slightly.

“Lead me to her.”

He did not leave immediately without considering the others.

Once Kakashi had secured Naruto and confirmed that Gaara’s group was still capable of moving, they began retracing the path taken by the retrieval team. With Pakkun guiding them, they searched each battlefield and gathered those who could no longer return by themselves.

They first found Kiba Inuzuka.

Kiba was badly injured and barely able to remain on his feet, but he was still conscious. Akamaru rested weakly inside his jacket while Kiba forced himself to continue walking.

Not far away, they encountered Shikamaru Nara.

Shikamaru was carrying the severely injured Chōji Akimichi on his back. His own body was covered in wounds, and exhaustion weighed heavily upon every step he took, but he refused to put Chōji down.

The look on his face was far more troubled than his injuries alone could explain.

As the leader of the mission, he blamed himself for every teammate who had fallen.

Aburame Shino was found next.

He was supporting the unconscious Neji Hyūga, whose wounds had already soaked through the makeshift bandages wrapped around his body.

Finally, Pakkun led Mihawk toward a quiet section of the forest.

Broken branches and scattered kunai marked the remains of a battle.

Hinata lay beneath a tree, her eyes closed and her face unusually pale. Her breathing was weak but steady, and there were several injuries across her arms and legs.

Mihawk immediately knelt beside her.

He checked her pulse first, then examined her wounds to ensure none of them were life-threatening. Only after confirming that she was stable did the coldness in his expression gradually fade.

“Hinata.”

He called her name quietly, but she did not respond.

Her chakra had been almost completely exhausted. The battle, combined with her injuries, had pushed her body beyond its limit.

Mihawk carefully slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back.

He lifted her from the ground with ease.

Hinata’s head rested against his chest, her dark hair falling across his arm. Even unconscious, her breathing seemed to become calmer once she was no longer lying against the cold earth.

Mihawk adjusted his hold so that none of her injuries would be disturbed.

“I have her.”

Kakashi glanced at him but did not suggest handing Hinata to anyone else.

Even after the battle against Kimimaro, Mihawk’s condition was still better than that of most members of the retrieval team. More importantly, the way he held Hinata made it obvious that he had no intention of entrusting her to someone else unless absolutely necessary.

Once everyone had been gathered, the group passed through the area where Mihawk’s battle had taken place.

Shikamaru, Kiba, Shino, and the others fell silent when they saw the snow-white forest of bones.

Beyond it lay the flattened woodland and the enormous wound carved into the distant mountain.

The sight was difficult to comprehend.

It looked as though a giant hundreds of metres tall had swung an equally massive sword across the land.

None of them believed such a creature existed.

This destruction had clearly been caused by a technique.

A sword technique.

Among everyone present, only one person was capable of producing something like that.

Their eyes unconsciously shifted toward Mihawk.

The boy who had stood at the top of their Academy class for six consecutive years was carrying Hinata in his arms, walking with the same calm expression he always wore.

What kind of enemy had driven him to unleash an attack powerful enough to reshape the land itself?

The question lingered in everyone’s mind, but no one asked it.

The atmosphere of the group remained heavy as they continued toward Konoha.

Shikamaru could not stop blaming himself for the condition of his teammates.

Naruto remained unconscious on Kakashi’s back, having failed to bring Sasuke home.

Although the mission was over, none of them felt that they had won.

Partway through the journey, Gaara, Temari, and Kankurō stopped.

Their mission had only been to assist Konoha’s shinobi. Now that the injured had been gathered and Kakashi had arrived, there was no longer any reason for them to continue all the way to the village.

After exchanging brief farewells with Naruto’s unconscious form and the others, the three Sand shinobi separated from the group and began their return to Sunagakure.

Kakashi then led the group back to Konoha.

His usual deadpan expression had returned, but the concern in his visible eye could not be hidden whenever he looked at the injured children around him.

By the time they reached Konoha, Naruto, Neji, Chōji, and Hinata still had not awakened.

Medical personnel were already waiting at the village entrance.

Kakashi immediately took Naruto inside, while Shikamaru and Shino helped transfer Chōji and Neji onto stretchers. Kiba and the others were also taken away to have their injuries examined.

Mihawk carried Hinata straight into the hospital without breaking stride.

He did not place her down until a medical-nin had prepared a bed and was ready to begin treating her.

Hinata’s condition was not life-threatening.

Most of her injuries were external, while her unconsciousness had been caused by severe chakra depletion and physical exhaustion. After treating her wounds and confirming that she only needed rest, the medical-nin finally left the room.

Mihawk remained beside her.

The self-cleaning function of his kimono had already removed the blood, dust, and fragments of bone that had clung to him during the battle.

He had suffered no serious injuries and no longer required treatment himself.

He brought a basin of warm water from the washroom and placed it beside Hinata’s bed.

After soaking a towel, Mihawk carefully wiped the dirt and dried blood from her face.

His movements were slow and controlled.

He cleaned her hands, arms, and the exposed portions of her legs, taking care not to disturb the bandages applied by the medical-nin.

Anything requiring more extensive treatment had already been handled by the hospital’s female staff.

Once he finished, Mihawk poured out the water and returned to her side.

Hinata’s brows remained faintly drawn together even in her sleep.

Mihawk reached out and gently smoothed them with his thumb.

He then took one of her hands between his palms and slowly massaged her fingers, helping the tension leave her exhausted muscles.

Afterward, he did the same for her other hand and carefully worked the stiffness from her feet and lower legs without touching any of her wounds.

Time passed unnoticed.

Outside the window, daylight gradually faded.

The village grew quiet, and the hospital corridor became almost completely silent.

Mihawk did not know how many hours had gone by.

Only when his eyelids became too heavy to keep open did he finally stop. He remained seated beside the bed, one hand still loosely holding Hinata’s.

Eventually, he lowered his head onto the edge of the mattress and closed his eyes.

The light of the full moon streamed through the window like scattered silver sand.

It fell across Hinata’s peaceful face and Mihawk’s sleeping figure beside her.

Within the quiet hospital room, their breathing gradually settled into the same gentle rhythm.

Even their heartbeats seemed to fall into sync.

For the first time since the mission began, the night was peaceful.