After hiding the clan members, weakened to the point of being utterly incapable of fighting, deeper within the dense forest, the three acting as decoys moved swiftly toward a predetermined direction without bothering to conceal themselves.
The enemy's pursuing footsteps were drawing near. Genma Hanemiya intended to split them apart and take them down one by one, while the other two hoped their sacrifice would buy a fleeting, inadequate sense of safety for the few surviving clan members left behind.
As for whether the enemy would choose to divide their forces in pursuit, Genma was fairly certain they would. Beyond the specific circumstances he'd just considered, it also tied into the nature of the current war.
At this time, the wars between ninja were primarily waged between clans. The ninja clans were the backbone of these conflicts, and often, a ninja only trusted their own kin. Anyone else was either an enemy or, at best, a "hostile neutral."
In such an environment, every clan's survival was precarious, demanding that they act decisively—cutting the grass down to its roots, leaving no loose ends.
The Hanemiya clan was little more than a flickering candle on the verge of being snuffed out. Forget a gust of wind; even the faintest breath of normal air could extinguish it. In this situation, splitting forces to chase them carried neither hesitation nor risk.
They were just a minor ninja clan—no kekkei genkai, no secret techniques passed down through generations. All they'd ever managed was to scrape by in the cracks between greater powers. If there was anything remotely special about them, it was perhaps their proficiency with fire release.
Yet fire release was a jutsu with an enormous gap between its potential and its limits. The Hanemiya clan might excel at fire release, but so did the Sarutobi and Uchiha clans—could there even be a comparison between them?
The Hanemiya clan's enemies hailed from the Tsugawa clan, a mid-sized ninja clan capable of mobilizing over a hundred ninja. In terms of overall strength, they utterly crushed the Hanemiya clan. It was, in fact, the Tsugawa clan that had razed the Hanemiya clan's village to the ground.
If one were to ask whether there was some deep historical grudge between the two, there really wasn't. The Tsugawa clan had simply steamrolled over them to expand their own territory.
Big fish eat little fish. The Tsugawa clan wouldn't dare dream of encroaching on the territory of a major ninja clan, so they turned their cruelty toward weaker prey instead.
After putting some distance between themselves and their clan's hiding spot, Genma Hanemiya began leaping through the treetops, moving with an almost deliberate flair—as if he were afraid the enemy might miss him.
And as he'd hoped, the enemy's scouting ninja soon spotted them.
In the northwestern part of the forest, the Tsugawa clan's ninja arrived right on cue.
"Captain, three enemies detected. They're fleeing in different directions. One of them appears to be that young clan leader who narrowly escaped before. Aside from these three, I haven't spotted any other remnants… These three are exposing themselves deliberately, likely to draw us away and buy time for the others to escape."
The scouting ninja leading the group quickly pieced together the basic information Genma had intentionally revealed. He promptly reported it to the combat captain trailing behind.
The captain, a tall and sturdy ninja in his thirties, didn't slow his pace as he listened to the report. "Decoy tactics," he said. "Same old petty tricks."
The scout nodded. "Yes, Captain. They've pulled this little stunt once before."
"If things go as expected, most of their remnants are hiding somewhere in this forest. They don't have the ability to relocate quickly. These three acting as decoys are likely their last shred of resistance. In the extreme case, they might be the only three ninja they have left who can still move. Take them out, and though this forest is vast, it'll inevitably become the graveyard for their entire clan."
The captain's judgment was sound. So-called decoy tactics were nothing more than a dying gasp. The Hanemiya clan's annihilation was certain. Decoys or not, it was merely a question of dying farther or closer, sooner or later.
"I remember that young clan leader. A pathetic little figure with a bit of cunning but not the strength to back it up… Here's my order: split into three teams, five per team, and pursue. I'll handle the little clan leader myself. Recon stays with the far-end team."
"Yes, Captain!"
The Tsugawa ninja didn't hesitate. They split into three groups, ready to prioritize eliminating the enemy's last vestiges of fighting strength.
Just as Genma had predicted, the enemy divided their forces. Even better, the strongest among them—the enemy captain—led a team charging straight toward him.
It was a logical choice. After all, Genma was now the Hanemiya clan's leader, the symbol of their entire group. His death would mark the clan's definitive end, making him the one person they absolutely couldn't let escape. Naturally, the enemy captain would take him on personally.
Among the fifteen enemy ninja, there was one well-rounded jōnin—the captain—along with two special jōnin leading the other two teams. The rest consisted of eight chūnin and four genin serving as grunts. Their strength was undeniable, more than enough to wipe out the Hanemiya clan.
"Captain, he's up ahead."
As the distance closed, one of the enemy ninja shouted.
The enemy pursued relentlessly, while Genma occasionally slowed his pace. There was no reason he wouldn't be caught.
"Surround him," the captain ordered.
The five enemies fanned out, encircling Genma from different directions. Soon, he was within their attack range.
A sharp whistle cut through the air as a kunai streaked toward Genma's torso. Midair, he could only pause briefly, twisting his head and body to dodge the strike.
The enemy's attack missed, but the evasion threw Genma off balance. His footing slipped, and he plummeted into the underbrush below.
But then something strange happened—Genma vanished the moment he fell.
"What's going on? He's gone?"
"A clone? No, impossible."
Genma's disappearance threw the enemy ninja into slight disarray, but the captain, seasoned from countless battles, wasn't fazed. Calmly, he said, "Everyone, get to higher ground. Don't move carelessly from now on. Stay alert, observe closely, and don't second-guess yourselves. The rat's hiding down there somewhere—he's not getting away."
Under normal circumstances, as long as they didn't panic, Genma indeed had no chance of escape. However…
The Mayfly Technique was one of White Zetsu's most signature abilities. It allowed the user to meld their body with the earth and vegetation, cutting off all traces of their presence. By tapping into the organic network of plant roots and underground water flows, they could move at high speed to virtually anywhere—a divine skill for assassination.
Absurdly, White Zetsu often used this technique merely for reconnaissance. Even more absurdly, it required no hand seals—it activated instantly!
At this moment, proficient or not, Genma had managed to wield this ability in combat.
The enemy captain stood on a thick tree branch, patiently observing the ground below. As an elite ninja who'd survived dozens of battles, he wouldn't be fooled by appearances. No matter how expertly the enemy hid, staying still and waiting would soon expose their flaws.
In terms of combat ability, experience, and battlefield judgment, the captain far outclassed Genma. To him, the latter was just a child playing at being a ninja.
But what he didn't know was that conventional experience only worked against conventional foes. Precise battlefield judgment could fail, and overwhelming strength meant nothing if it couldn't be brought to bear.
War left no room for trial and error.
Genma's figure emerged silently behind the captain. Like a ghost, his presence was unmistakable yet utterly devoid of any excess aura. The enemy's sharp senses detected not the slightest hint of anything amiss.
In that moment, time seemed to freeze.
Genma's heart appeared to stop beating. In the brief span before it pumped blood again, he created an eternal divide between life and death.
Gripping a kunai in his right hand, he stabbed it into the captain's lower back without hesitation, driving the blade fully into flesh. Simultaneously, his left hand wielded a short sword, plunging it into the back of the captain's neck. The thin, razor-sharp blade severed the spinal joints with no resistance, slicing downward through the throat as effortlessly as piercing paper.
Even with the Mayfly Technique's unparalleled assassination potential, Genma's lack of mastery meant he could only guarantee success on his first attempt in this fight. So, he'd targeted the strongest enemy.
And he succeeded.
The assassination was flawless. The enemy made no sound, offered no resistance. Yet a nearby ninja, hyper-focused and scanning the ground, whipped his head around the instant Genma completed the kill.
"Enemy attack!"
He shouted.
As his voice rang out, a barrage of shuriken and kunai rained down indiscriminately.
Genma immediately ducked behind the captain's body. His assassination had been perfect—so why was he detected so quickly?
Then it hit him.
It was the breathing. After the stab, the captain's breaths had turned ragged. In the stillness, that irregularity was easy to notice.
These were battle-hardened ninja, after all.
A second assassination might be tricky, but Genma wasn't discouraged. He'd already achieved his primary goal—eliminate the strongest fighter, and he'd won half the battle.
Kunai and shuriken kept embedding into flesh with relentless thuds. The remaining enemies were rational and ruthless—once they saw the captain was beyond saving, they attacked without hesitation.
Well, perhaps Genma overestimated them. Their assault was more a mechanical reflex, even a stress response.
The sudden assassination of their highest-ranking officer left them stunned. Worse, they couldn't fathom how Genma had gotten behind the captain or why the captain hadn't reacted at all.
Water Release: Water Bullet Technique!
An enemy formed hand seals, hurling a massive water orb toward him.
Seeing this, Genma released the kunai lodged in the captain's kidney. Chakra burst from his feet, propelling him into a rapid dodge to the left. As he moved, his raised right arm hooked the hilt of the short sword still embedded in the captain's neck.
The force spun the hilt slightly, fully severing the captain's neck.
Finishing the job was a good habit—it ensured the enemy was truly dead.
Genma twisted midair, landing lightly on the ground.
The captain's head wobbled slowly, reluctantly parting from its body before dropping like a heavy ball at Genma's feet.
Thud.
It hit the ground, covered in dry twigs and decayed leaves, with a soft, muted sound.
In that instant, the enemies halted their attack.
Genma's lips curled into a grin. His tongue pressed hard against his dry, cracked lower lip, his expression making him look like a deranged madman.
In his past life, he'd grown up in a peaceful world. After elementary school, he'd never fought anyone. He'd lived with kindness, gentleness, and honesty as his guiding principles, never showing such a savage side.
But just because it hadn't surfaced didn't mean it wasn't there. People were products of their environment, and different settings revealed different facets of a person.
Ninjutsu came in myriad forms, some dazzlingly vibrant. Genjutsu slipped through every crack—subtle, eerie, and deadly. Taijutsu could be fierce or fluid, the purest form of killing. Yet beneath these facades, every power system in every war eventually laid bare its coldest truth:
Iron and blood.
In the ninja world or anywhere else, war was iron and blood.