Frankly, Hanzo wasn't quite sure what he was expecting while personally leading a team of his own elite shinobi, but there was no way he could keep still with an unknown variable in his territory. This was especially so in a time of war where information was crucial.

Initially, he'd sent a few reconnaissance groups to survey the area, but few if any returned. The war was taking its toll on Rain, and the number of competent personnel was constantly dwindling in the crossfire of Great Villages. Therefore, he may have had good reason to simply write off the failure in intelligence as incompetence, but it fundamentally changed nothing.

The crux of the matter was time and observation.

Although Hanzo had failed to receive accurate reports of the sudden mist barrier or fog wall in his own land, he could infer its value based on how the warring Great Nations approached it. Rock was being fairly cautious and sitting on the fence, but lately Leaf's White Fang and several units had set up a perimeter around the fog wall.

If this wasn't already suspicious enough, Hanzo knew that Leaf had diverted a portion of its main force to bolster said perimeter while several elite Jounin were pulled from the front-line. Where these Jounin went was unfortunately something that Hanzo didn't know, but the increasing number of uncertainties led him to take personal action.

The most suspicious point was, expectedly, the emergence of the fog wall barrier. The moment it appeared was the moment Hanzo's expectations of Leaf and Rock's movements in Rain country had derailed.

There was something there either worth the importance of the Great Villages, or dangerous enough for them to guard against.

In either case, it didn't bode well for Hanzo.

If there was something important enough for both Leaf and Rock to covet, then it would only mean prolonging the war. Alternatively, a new type of danger to be mindful of in his own land wasn't exactly something that would give him peace of mind.

Hence, it was all the more important to verify for himself what was happening. Especially, when he doubted that anyone other than a fellow Kage-rank shinobi could contest him.

He was moving so brazenly atop his summon as a display of dominance. His Salamander was his symbol. Upon sighting it, all would be reminded of his strength that lesser shinobi would not attempt to even cross. He was the leader of Rain, and his reputation preceded him. Few if any would dare obstruct him, let alone be strong enough to inflict fatal injury in the event of an ambush.

Anyone who would try would either be his equal, or an upstart fool in over their heads, and Hanzo had killed a great many of these upstarts seeking fame and glory by prevailing over him.

Those days were long since gone. The number of corpses he'd stepped over amounted to a number that far surpassed the threshold of what meager chance any standard shinobi had of besting him.

Therefore, he was passed the days of lofty challenges by hotblooded youth.

Here standing proudly atop his Salamander, he defied the shinobi code and traveled out in the open, fearing no one. This was the minimum standard as the hidden shadow of Rain.

What Kage would resort to subtlety and espionage in his own home?

None.

Narrowing his eyes, Hanzo adjusted the respirator over his face, worn for the sake of his colleagues rather than himself. His breath was lethal poison, and none of his men would be willing to follow him if he had no way to contain it.

Regardless, something wasn't sitting right with Hanzo ever since he'd passed through the fog.

Curling his fingers around the hilt of his Kusaragima, Hanzo hummed in thought, mind focusing on sensing any abnormalities around him, but found nothing other than an endless expanse of fog.

If Hanzo wasn't certain that he was still in Rain country, he may as well have believed it if someone said that he'd somehow ended up in the Hidden Mist's lands.

Ridiculous.

Glancing at the retinue of elite Shinobi that Hanzo had brought with him, his experience was warning him that something was wrong. If he couldn't find anything wrong with himself, then he could likely obtain a clue by observing the states of others in a similar situation to him.

As he'd thought, there was a dullness in the eyes of his men that Hanzo had seen all too much in his experience in shinobi war and battle.

Genjutsu?

The moment he realized the situation was the moment Hanzo flared his chakra around him, instantly noticing pervading wisps of foreign chakra that had been trying to influence him. However, his natural chakra reserves and ability were high enough that the effect was presently minimal.

Then what was this uneasiness he was feeling?

Who was it? Someone had to be the caster of the Genjutsu, but Hanzo couldn't detect anyone nearby who was capable enough to create such a wide-scale effect.

Regardless, he gave his orders lest his subordinates succumb to illusions.

"Flare your chakra. It's a Genjutsu!"

Pulsing his chakra, the odd pervading sensation of ambient energy trying to influence him was directly dispelled, granting Hanzo a moment of clarity.

-The Genjutsu grows stronger the further he travels into the fog.

At the perimeter where they'd entered a few minutes ago, the effects were negligible, but now as they neared what was likely the center area, it felt as if a blanket was weighing down on them. It wasn't strong enough that they couldn't take action against it, but in the heat of battle, a lapse in concentration could become fatal.

Grimacing, Hanzo assessed that he'd have to constantly flood his system with his chakra if he wished to prevent himself from falling into an unexpected illusion.

Something pricked at the back of Hanzo's mind. Something about all this seemed vaguely familiar.

Maybe the Genjutsu wasn't caused by a single perpetrator or even by a group, but by the effects of a drawn seal?

This wall of fog…it reminded Hanzo of the Uzumaki.

Unlike most recent Shinobi participating in the Great Shinobi War, Hanzo was at an age where he'd witnessed the strength of a Clan in Whirlpool Country that could rival a Great Village.

The Uzumaki Clan.

Last Hanzo had heard, they'd been recently wiped out, likely from a joint venture of Great Villages who'd grown uneasy at the Uzumaki's blood ties to Hidden Leaf. Stragglers, low-ranked shinobi, or civilian-level clan members would have likely fled the scene of the massacre, but Hanzo doubted that any of the competent Uzumaki would have been allowed to flee and pass on their knowledge. Any competent leader would have made sure of that.

However, not everything may have been as it seemed. The unpredictability and versatility of the Uzumaki's craft was something they were well known for.

Could a remnant of the Uzumaki have escaped into Rain country, and were forced to deploy a barrier of this scale after being caught up in the war?

It was a possibility that Hanzo was already leaning towards.

Sealing Arts? Fuinjutsu?

Was this what it all was?

There was opportunity here. Either to forcibly assimilate a new talent for Rain, or to eliminate a variable and plunder the illusive legacy of the Uzumaki.

Still, only Jounin-Ranked Shinobi would have the means to traverse through this fog, and even then, a portion of their attention had to constantly be focused on dispelling an illusory effect.

For a second, old sentiments and dreams that Hanzo had aspired for in his younger years re-emerged within him, but in the end, he sighed. The time for such aspirations had already passed. All that was left now was to maintain what he already had, and if it meant stamping out on weeds, then so be it.

Hanzo's aged ears suddenly perked up at the whistling noise of what sounded like an 'arrow.'

Tapping a foot over his Salamander's head, he and his summon tacitly swerved left to avoid a metal bolt that flew at speeds few if any could react to. Several others weren't so lucky.

Bang!

Pieces of shrapnel and dirt cascaded with the sound of pebbles impacting the ground, muffling the sound of a choking gurgling.

Clouds of dust and smoke rose up from the debris, forming a dense layer of destruction that obscured the area.

Hanzo narrowed his eyes and dismounted his summon lest he leave himself open to subsequent enemy volleys.

As the dust settled amidst the pouring rain, Hanzo frowned at the sight before him.

Coiled swords?

Addled by constant Genjutsu, and the relative unexpectedness of the attack, more than half of the dozen shinobi accompanying Hanzo were struck and skewered into the ground. This wasn't even accounting for the speed and penetrative power of the projectiles.

Hanzo only needed to glance at the hastily erected wall of rock and the hole bored through it to get an estimate that he did not want to test his body against that type of steel.

Hardly batting an eye, Hanzo could careless for the so called 'elite' that comprised his current retinue of shinobi. The real elite had already died in the war, leaving only the new generation's elite to replace the old, and none of them were truly promising.

"Hold!" Hanzo ordered, features hardening while searching for the assailant.

Hoisting his kusarigama, he hurled the ball and chain to bat away another 'arrow' aimed towards him, only to grimace at the incompetence of those around him.

Sure they weren't dead, but in dodging the next hail of attacks, they'd allowed themselves to be separated in the thick layers of fog. Similar to Hidden Mist, just a couple feet of distance was enough to lose sight of someone right in front of you in this fog wall.

Hanzo was on his own.

Pulling off his heavy rain gear, Hanzo focused ahead of him. It was difficult to make out for ordinary shinobi, but by following the mist twisting around the trajectory of the attacks, Hanzo could locate the direction of the assailant.

The assailant had to be attacking from a higher vantage point as the angle of the arrows always came in high.

When the next arrow fired, Hanzo didn't remain idle and dashed through the mist until he locked onto a chakra signature situation upon a distant hill above the mist.

There.

Hanzo narrowed his eyes and dashed forward in a burst of speed.

He was coming.

With the others separated from the main target, there was only one thing left to do.

Shirou took a deep breath and readjusted his grip on the black bow in his left hand. In his right, he Traced a sword using the steps ingrained into him from his experience with the Archer card.

Known as the Seven Steps of Projection, they were the fundamental steps Shirou always took in his Tracing, and right now, he was going to need everything he had at his disposal. The only real shame was that he no longer had access to that same pool of magic energy the Class-Card had granted him during its use.

As of the moment, he was using his Chakra as a substitute to augment his present level of magic energy, but doing so felt more draining than anything he'd ever experienced.

With every use of his chakra, he was growing more and more tired.

Shirou knew of the term 'Chakra exhaustion,' but what he didn't know was how crucially it tied into his life force. In this world, people died if they depleted all of their Chakra. Therefore, what he was doing was inherently risky as he didn't know his limits unlike how shinobi are taught to do from a young age.

At the same time, his active use of his Chakra reserves were training his chakra coils to enlarge and maintain a constant output.

It was a double edged sword, but one Shirou wouldn't have cared for given the direness of his situation.

He knew this was going to be difficult, but it was only now that he was staring it right at the face that it was all setting in.

[Hanzō of the Salamander]

A name hovered over the head of the man speedily making his way over.

[Class: Kage]

[Danger Scaling: Unable to Discern at Current State]

[Recommendation: Flee on Sight]

If there was any sign that he was outclassed, this was it.

He needed more training both to hone his magecraft into what it was with the Class-Card, and to better utilize his chakra. Unfortunately, that luxury didn't presently exist for him.

Breathing deeply, Shirou calmed his mind and notched a sword to his bow, the tip twisting through alteration into something more aerodynamic.

He waited. One minute, then two.

The closer Hanzo approached, the less time he'd have to react to a shot. It was the same principle between firing point blank and firing at range.

By now, Shirou had tested Hanzo's reaction speed in his prior shots and had a clear idea of the speed for what Hanzo would and would not be able to react to.

With careful sight and aim, he fired his bow, watching it shoot in a straight line from its sheer velocity.

A vortex of wind pushed Shirou back as the recoil of his shot breaking the sound barrier forced him to brace his knees and squint his eyes.

A reverberating bang echoed out for miles, but all that Shriou cared for was the result.

It was a direct hit, the twisted sword puncturing through Hanzo's chest and nailing him to the ground.

For a moment, relief flooded through Shirou, thinking that he could achieve his goals easier than he'd believed. However, that relief quickly morphed into dread as he watched Hanzo break apart into fragments of liquid.

A water body? A water clone?

Shirou tensed as his mind ran through the possibilities before he straightened his priorities.

If what he'd hit was a fake, then where was the real-

Heavy footfalls sounded beside him.

"A brat?"

Chills ran down the back of Shirou's spine. The ventilated voice was practically whispered next to his ear.

"No matter. There's a price to pay for boldness no matter how admirable."

There was a reason why Hanzo was no longer the target that anyone could take lightly. He didn't ignore the shinobi code to avoid staying out in the open out of pride, but through capability.

At the corner of Shirou's eyes, he noticed a kusarigama slashing down at his throat, and immediately reacted before he could even think.

A nameless sword formed in the air between his neck and Hanzo's weapon, sparks grating before Shirou ducked out of the way. The Traced sword was batted away, clattering to the ground where it faded into motes of blue light.

Hanzo's eyes widened in thought, but his assault didn't ease. It only grew faster.

Shirou discarded his bow and tried to make distance, but failed when a ball and chain wrapped around his ankles and pulled him off his feet.

Thudding as his back smashed into the ground, he had only a second to blink before he noticed a blade stab down and pierce into his chest.

Reinforced hands shot up instantly, fingers grasping over the blade and straining to push it off of him.

If Hanzo found it odd that the grating of steel echoed out from contact between Shirou's hands and his blade, he didn't show it and merely increased the pressure.

Focus. Focus.

"Trace. On."

Blue light shone over Shirou's eyes before a pair of projected swords stabbed down from behind Hanzo's back, forcing Hanzo to really scrutinize Shirou before grabbing him by the neck and using his body as a shield.

Shirou immediately dematerialized his projections before they stabbed into him, both swords bursting into fragments of blue light.

"Interesting," Hanzo muttered to himself. "A new variant that isn't chains?"

Shirou had no time to dwell over Hanzo's words as Hanzo's grip around his neck was making his vision spin. The bastard was choking him out.

Veins popped over his neck, eyes growing bloodshot, yet in the haze of mind, a verse spoke out from the lingering remnants of the EMIYA Class Card.

"-My body is made out of swords."

Hanzo's eyes widened before he hurriedly released his grip on Shirou's neck, but it was already too late.

Staring at his severely punctured palm, and then to the meshwork of blades piercing out through the skin of Shirou's neck, Hanzo failed to react when Shirou used the opportunity to bolt away on reinforced legs.

Features unreadable, Hanzo gave chase while Shirou assessed himself.

The stab wound he'd suffered when the ball and chain had caught him by the ankles should have been deeper based on the strength Hanzo had put behind it. However, on closer inspection, it was only a flesh wound, layers of thin yet durable material having dulled the blow.

Peeling off the material, Shirou noticed that it was torn into scraps, only traces left of its original appearance.

It was-

/-/

A girl who thought herself clever suddenly jerked up in alarm, features pale, panic bleeding off of her.

/-/

Paper?

Shirou had no time to think about the ramifications.

Right now, he had to retreat as Hanzo was hot on his tail. As he'd expected from something with an S-Rank difficulty, he wasn't currently Hanzo's match.

Blood gushed out of the flesh wound over his chest in an arc before he staunched it into a trickle by clamping a hand over it to stem the bleeding.

Chakra and reinforcement did wonders for Shirou's current speed, but he knew as well as Hanzo that he couldn't keep up his pace forever.

He had to hurry.

"You're not alone."

Shirou recalled Konan's words, and let out a breath.

Where were they? He griped in his distress, gaze searching the area.

From the message prompts of the scenario quest, somewhere on this battlefield were three other combatants that he had to devise a way to pull in. Everything was hinging on this.

The fact that the quest was titled 'Rise of the Sannin,' likely meant that they were meant to survive the encounter with Hanzo. Therefore, Shirou felt no qualms with trying to use this to his advantage in order to survive.

Better yet, the more desperate the situation grew, the calmer Shirou became.

The effects of the Class Card he'd used prior lingered within him in the memory of its use and the experience of another 'him' attributed to him; a veteran of an untold number of battlefields. He was aware that he had the means to Trace a few Noble Phantasms that could reverse the situation, but he wasn't sure what toll it would have on him.

It was a last resort, something he didn't yet do, due to a promise he'd made to return safely.

With the Class Card, he'd had access to a limitless supply of magic energy, but without it, all he had in excess was his naturally high chakra capacity. In terms of conversion, he didn't know if Tracing a Noble Phantasm would immediately sap him of all his chakra and kill him, or if he would be fine.

He hadn't tested the conversion rate between magic energy and chakra, as the risk was too high without an expert to warn him if he was dipping too far into the red.

For now, he'd just stick to the plan.

Initially, Shirou may not have been able to know the prime location to spy over the current battlefield, but intuitively, his instincts were what led him towards his desired target.

EMIYA's experiences and knowledge bled into Shirou's own, his head snapping towards a certain direction.

Based on Hanzo's perception, the only reason he wouldn't have sensed the other three combatants was if they were spying in from outside Hanzo's range. At the same time, if the other three were watching the battle in any detail, they would have to be just on the edge of Hanzo's senses, or were masking their presence.

In which case, only a few areas checked off these specifications but-

Shirou's nose suddenly twitched.

Without warning, Shirou changed direction towards an outcropping of dilapidated buildings on a higher elevation. Sensors were a type of Shinobi sensitive to the feel of Chakra in an area, but in Shirou's case, it was almost like he could smell it.

The people he was searching for were in this building.

Without caring for propriety or planning much thought into it, Shirou reinforced his body, and rammed a hole through the already dilapidated building, stunning the three staring at him inside.

There they were. The three of them were here just like he'd thought.

His sudden arrival stunned them, or at least he'd assumed that was the reason that they just stared at him in a daze.

Shirou simply did not know how closely he resembled another red-head the three were quite familiar with.

Still, he had no time to factor in the variable of his appearance.

"Sorry, but please take it from here," was all he could say.

The situation was far too pressing as the rest of the dilapidated building was blown off its foundations by a giant salamander.

Hanzo arrived in a storm of murderous intent.

"Leaf Shinobi?"

…and suddenly in the minds of the leaf shinobi, everything went to shit.

Thanks for Reading!

Next update: It's a surprise

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