There were times when Erumo felt a bit jealous of the Konoha Sorceress and her ability to track chakra. In the present, with the trapster concealed under a Cloak of Invisibility that she had formed out of a sheet of plain cloth using the Camouflage Technique taught to all budding ninja in the Academy, she was experiencing one of those times. The camouflaging cloak was perfectly manipulated to appear completely identical to the floor which the young woman crawled on while hiding under it. The air down there was a tiny bit clearer as well, although the despicable stench and taste of iron did not disappear completely even for a moment, neither did Erumo's nausea.
Her first instinct after tumbling down was to conceal herself to prevent follow-up attacks. She was no weakling but she did not perform favorably with the fight brought directly to her face where she could not have placed any traps and have any moments to think things through and strategize. It was the least advantageous type of combat for the kunoichi of Team Fir. Everybody she knew had those type of unfavorable conditions, it was no big deal. And yet... It would have perhaps helped a little if her numb-skulled teammates would appreciate her role a little bit more with both of them being front and center, attention-hogging action heroes.
The concealed kunoichi wondered shortly where her teammates could have been. She was in no condition to peek out for too long or too wide or else her entire effort of hiding herself so well would have been swept away as meaningless dust on a shelf. Erumo could hear ear-piercing sounds of something heavy, mechanical but also... Something like intense and focused lightning bolts, so high pitched that the thundering almost made it feel like the lightning was crying under pressure. Should she perhaps move a little bit closer to that battlefield?
A shockwave made Erumo clinch to her cloak harder than she's ever needed to in order for her camouflage to not simply be blasted off from the emanating gusts of wind. Something much more intense was transpiring nearby. The trapster rolled aside, letting her cloak envelop her inside it like a wrapping, as long as her camouflaging ninjutsu kept going, the shape of her concealment or even her position barely mattered. The young woman pressed her body against rough and edgy rock rising from the very bottom of the valley and peeked over it to the battlefield that demanded her attention at the moment.
There he was... Kouta. He was quite close to these Blood Lagoon people. Just who were they really? Why were these ninja so adamant about snuffing them all out? Moreover, so deep within another country's territory. Land of Hot Water was a well-known neutral space that did not like to be drawn into any lasting wars or conflicts. Even when fighting transpired right on their doorstep or even within their own borders the place chose to remain uninvolved. For people in Kirigakure headbands in plain sight to commit something on this scale on such a respected ground, so recently after regaining their sovereignty as well... It was asking for trouble.
There was only one type of grievance that defied reason – a personal one. Bigotry perhaps? These Blood Lagoon folk really did look out of the ordinary and appeared to be many things but none of them completely. Their appearance was strikingly similar to the Uchiha and yet not quite completely, they lacked the certain apathy in their emotional states, not to mention that their own unique set of red eyes lacked some of the notable Sharingan attributes or abilities.
The fight was transpiring four-on-one. Kouta even managed to send the opponent flying and he had not even tapped into his Curse Seal just yet. If needed, the young man could have amplified his strength, speed and endurance dozens of times, he was in no danger. Not in this engagement anyway. What worried Erumo much more was how little all of them knew about anything. Who exactly were these people trying to eradicate the Blood Lagoon, whose orders were they acting under, who was the Blood Lagoon exactly?
Something inside kept on nagging Erumo that she'd help her squad out much more by providing answers to these questions. Ones acquired not from the mouths of one those feuding two sides but ones that were gathered from some good, old snooping around. Something ninja were supposed to do more of anyway. It should not have been so difficult, if these two were at each other's throats based on a grievance as personal as Erumo had a reason to believe, they'd be spouting out way more of needless words of spite to one another than necessary. A lot could have been extracted from filtering out the useful information from all of that.
But for that to happen Erumo first needed to locate an engagement without the presence of a third party – hopefully, the battlefield was large enough to have an engagement or two where none of Konoha ninja were there to taint the pureness of the social experiment. Through moderate hesitation and dislike of abandoning Kouta's battlefield to seek for answers, Erumo snuck away. It was not that difficult picking up noises of battle, wherever ninja of even amateur level of skill engaged each other, visual or auditory cries of devastation they left in their wake followed, perhaps even more so the lower the skill level of the ninja were. True titans managed to contain sky-shaking power into a strike as silent and subtle as a mere sword swing.
It really was difficult seeing one's friend and ally fighting for their own and someone else's life and to leave them behind but if Erumo's sometimes paranoid questions had the types of answers she suspected them to have – by revealing the true nature of this conflict, the trapster may just be saving her friends' lives. If there was something more wicked to the Blood Lagoon as she couldn't help but suspect, there was also nothing stopping the red-eyed, paled out folk from turning their weapons at the Konoha ninja they were fighting alongside so recently and using the wear and tear on their allies to snuff them out too. That was, however, the worst case scenario...
The second that Erumo's face peeked from under her camouflage and gazed upon the battlefield the presence of which was making itself more and more known with each passing blink, the sight of a scrapper of gigantic size for a lump of flesh that he was punching the Blood Lagoon ninja graced her eyes. The result was one of a sizeable bloody stain yet not quite in a way that Erumo had initially believed it to be. Instead of the head of the poor fellow blowing up like a smashed watermelon from the force present in that titanic impact, the entire body of the frail-looking, cloaked Blood Lagoon ninja splashed out into a bloody puddle.
It did not look like your average blood either, despite being right up in the cloaked ninja's face, not a single drop of the blood remained on the notable musculature or the limited clothing of the tremendously buff and physical ninja. Erumo had heard only of a single clan capable of completely dispersing into water and then reshaping themselves at will – the Hozuki. Just like common sense dictated, the Hozuki clan resided mostly in Kirigakure although rogue members were all over the world, quite revered and respected for their odd power.
Yet that which the Blood Lagoon ninja became upon being hit, similarly to how a Hozuki would have liquefied, was not just common water. Even from where Erumo was she could see it – it was similar to blood in appearance but it did not behave quite like blood either. In its very presence, the choking atmosphere of air that reeked of rust and tasted like iron became even more unbearable. Only through self-restraint could Erumo contain the instinct to cough or throw up again even though both of these things were about to surface at that time.
"Using our technique to prevent your own death... That just makes me want to beat the shit out of you even harder." The physical titan with the Kirigakure headband tied around his forehead just above a braid of granite-colored hair about as thick as the arm of a grown man.
"Did you expect me to just die?" the cloaked figure that appeared almost like a gaunt spirit in how much of its body remained concealed whether under seasoned and torn in places dark cloak or under the cone-shaped straw hat.
"If you had any honor, you would have accepted your execution. The fact that you defy it only justifies the fact that the clan higher-ups have labeled you as a rogue." A woman standing beside her giant and punch-happy clansman declared.
"The Hozuki have labeled us freaks. They wish us dead not because of something wrong that we did but because of the way were born." A shinobi of shoulder-long, blond hair, and sharp facial features, still donning the Kirigakure flak jacket over what appeared to be fancy, silken, military-style uniform declared.
"Oh... So fighting's over?" a man with a mohawk and rich, black and curved mustache who wore a flak jacket over his bare upper body yet was more to the round side of thickness rather than buff, compared to his more aggressive ally wondered as he turned at his two allies.
"What? No, the fighting's not over, you dimwit, just because they say you shouldn't kill them, doesn't mean you actually shouldn't kill them." The physical titan of the Kirigakure bunch cracked his knuckles, glaring at his ally with disdain and belittlement in his eyes.
"Oh, that's good, I want to rough 'em up a little more, see?" the chubby laughed out to himself, having found this revelation of unchanged mission objective so pleasant that he required physical effort and holding his own chubby belly to prevent himself from bending over in the moment of hilarity he had.
"How have you ever killed anyone? Hasn't anyone begged you for their life before?" the kimono-woman in a decorated fox mask inquired out of sheer curiosity, turning at her less gifted with the talent of brightness comrade on paper only.
"Sure. I've learned that part already. Nobody claimed that it's wrong to kill them or that I'm making a mistake though..." the numbskull replied. "In any case, the more we talk, the more confused I get..."
Without any further ceremony, the sizeable, dimwitted chubby lunged forward in a mad dash that was impressive for a man his size. The Kirigakure ninja held his flabby arms up high, taking a cross-shaped running stance that made him almost like a moving juggernaut of sorts. Judging from the speed of the man and the intensity in which he was flailing his placed sideways limbs, it was unlikely that anything could have escaped the simple yet effective method of attack.
The blond-haired Blood Lagoon member of militaristic appearance jumped forward. His body grew in size substantially as he dashed forward as something liquid pumped through his body, making each and every muscle group twitch before it inflated to an almost comical extent where the entire physique of the relatively frail young man matched that of his more physically impressive opponents.
This could not have been the case with the fat one but Erumo definitely considered the fact that the near-perfect physique of the ponytail ninja may have been a result due to a similar transformation technique. Knowing of the Hozuki ability to liquefy themselves and reshape as fit, it was not difficult for Erumo to realize the inner workings of this curious transformation technique – it was manipulation of the inner body fluids although one performed more internally rather than externally as the more popular Hozuki signature technique demonstrated. This knowledge allowed Erumo to dodge loads of potentially hot spots but...
Just whose side should she support? The exchanges between the two sides certainly strengthened Erumo's understanding but unless the Blood Lagoon not only survives the exchange but also win in an overwhelming manner over their Kirigakure would-be assassins, they will not reveal their hidden motives. And yet... If the Blood Lagoon does intend to betray her less subject to forethought comrades, letting them win too easily and doing all the work for them would only lead to the same ruin that Erumo was trying to prevent.
It was decided, in that case, Erumo's face disappeared under her camouflaging cloak as she wandered toward the nearby battlefield, ready to support the Blood Lagoon from the shadows while, at the same time, letting them fight their own shadows, as long as their victory is ultimately assured.
The blond Blood Lagoon ninja slammed right into his enemy, putting his hands up and attempting a clash of strength against his sizeable opponent. The grumbling and collapse of the dirt and gravel beneath the man's feet and the straight-cut ridges that his dragging feet left on it telegraphed a tremendous lack of success in that venture. As a response, the brawny Hozuki picked up his opponent, defeating his resistance utterly as well as peeling him off the ground without bending his knees and then delivering a deafening, vertical kick that sent the Blood Lagoon ninja flying.
The arm of the cloaked Blood Lagoon ninja with a straw, conical hat turned blood-red with plates of crystalized crimson covered the exposed limb and extended far enough to reach his now reduced to original shape ally. Not only that but the hand grew remarkably enough to catch his ally like a ball and return him to the part of the three-man formation where the Blood Lagoon ninja belonged.
The third Blood Lagoon ninja leaped forward, removing a man-sized, diamond-shaped case off his back and letting the zipper to it open up before he had halfway finished his dash forward. A boisterous clang signaled the clash between the exposed sword of the third Blood Lagoon ninja and the female Hozuki with the fox mask. The sleeves of the elegant kunoichi's kimono were slightly ripped and swirling formations of rotating cones of water became exposed – emulated claws of Water Release chakra, not too much different from the grotesque transformation of the cloaked Blood Lagoon ninja's arm into a limb of blood-colored crystals.
The unique manner of attack that only a Hozuki could properly execute was met by a shine of a turquoise sword that did not appear nearly as structured as a sword should have been. The entire shape of the weapon was comprised solely of the blade, starting from the ring in the bottom, the short extension where the sword was supposed to be held, two erupting blades branching out to the side where the holding area of the blade ended and a massive blade comprised of the identical, shiny, turquoise material that appeared polished enough to shine like virgin snow in the pale moonlight.
"You're confident to step out of formation, Blood Lagoon, aren't afraid to die?" the Hozuki woman in the fox mask taunted her dancing partner. The two exchanged a passionate cascade of blows, the Blood Lagoon swordsman was powerful and graceful enough to move his relatively cumbersome weapon with just about the same amount of speed and skill as his opponent had in the movement of her claws. Just about. Despite the stoic and focused face of the Blood Lagoon, cuts and lacerations covered his body where the woman's assaults were too swift or unpredictable to block or where the man had allowed her to tag him so that he could not fall for her attempts to distract his blocks from the really deadly slashes.
A pair of black wings burst from the man's back, not the type to suggest angelic origins at all, macabre and crooked things composed of dead, grey skin and extending long like the fingers of an old and stingy geezer, connected with a membrane thin enough to see through yet appearing almost wet from the first glance. The wings flapped one mighty flap and thusly generated a mighty enough gust to send the Blood Lagoon swordsman himself sliding back from his own current, also keep his opponent firmly rooted on the ground and covering from the blowback so that she did not fly off her feet.
"Is Chitsu okay?" the Blood Lagoon swordsman spoke up, something that must not have happened often as his tone was husky and rusted from lack of use. The reason why the winged swordsman chose to offer words instead of verifying the well-being of his ally himself was that he needed to keep his eyes on his enemy at all times. Just for now, the tall, ponytail Hozuki remained in his place and only stretched out and cracked his knuckles as well as sent vain grins the way of his opponents.
Similarly to how the Blood Lagoon valued ordered formations that helped them repel the enemy attacks together, the Hozuki, despite their initial impression of being more the brawny bunch, paid their formations enough mind as well. With two members of their squad out of the typical, line formation, the third one kept it to a tee in order to be able and open to assist his teammates if lethal danger befell them.
"As if something as trivial as a kick could do lasting damage to me." The one referred to as Chitsu – the Blood Lagoon member that was sent flying before got back to his feet and ready to fight. He placed both of his palms together and closed his eyes. It was a remarkably odd fighting stance but its uniqueness only served to inspire more uncertainty in the hearts of his enemy, no matter how adamant they were to proceed with their Blood Lagoon genocide.
Only one of the six was bold, or rather stupid enough to break formation twice, right after the proper formations were resumed. The chubby juggernaut of the Hozuki charged forward, his hands to the side and head forward, just like most of the ninja used to run. It certainly did appear that the most of this man's taijutsu style was comprised of just running over his enemy. Chitsu opened his eyes, they were red as blood, not unlike the orbs of the rest of his folks, however, a clearer formation began taking shape in the eye's core.
Within the eye appeared a ghoulish image of a night of a blood-red sky with a pitch-black moon in the center. One of malicious, purplish gleam that it projected onto the beholder with an almost hypnotizing shimmer. The size of Chitsu massively increased once more, this time disproportionately favoring the upper body to the point where the man hunched over and his knees bent due to being utterly unable to maintain a steady stance. Plates of a red armor comprised of an iron-like texture began appearing, bursting from the man's exposed pores in dust form before molding together into something much more malleable and presenting the transforming user with a much more demonic shape that was as much iron as it was edge and spikes.
Chitsu thrust his arms forward, having just completed his infernal transformation right before his enemy reached him with his charge. Another rowdy thud sent shockwaves and ground gravel and stone alike to utter dust which the gusts and currents carried away, the chubby Hozuki was not absolutely stopped at his feet and gazing upon the indifferent eyes of his armored opponent. The new, iron-clad transformation granted a certain absence of human emotion in the armored face of the Blood Lagoon that did not betray any hints of suffering or effort from the ninja's part of stopping the Hozuki's charge.
If indeed there ever were any...