Disclaimer:I don't own Naruto or Drak souls. Any similarities between real people, living or dead, or places, standing or demolished, in this story are just coincidences.

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Chapter no.25 Vs The Demon Brothers

Sasuke leaned against the Hokage Gates, arms crossed, basking in the rare moment of quiet. Kakashi stood nearby, flipping through his little orange book with the ease of a man who had perfected the art of slacking off. Tazuna, gripping a beer bottle like it held the meaning of life, stared at it with a look of existential dread.

Meanwhile, Sakura was hunched over their supplies for what had to be the third time, mumbling curses under her breath.

Her eye twitched.

"Where. The hell. Is. Naruto?!"

"Give it a minute, Sakura," Kakashi murmured, still engrossed in his book.

Sakura let out a frustrated groan.

"Three hours late?! This is our first real mission! How can Naruto mess this up already?!"

Sasuke scoffed. "I blame Kakashi."

"Oh, Sasuke-kun," Kakashi sighed dramatically. "You wound me. I'm nothing if not a shining example of punctuality."

Sakura scowled.

"Sensei, Naruto definitely picked up this terrible habit and those ridiculous excuses from you!"

Tazuna, watching their banter, let out a long, weary sigh.

"…I hope I'm not killed."

BOOM!

A blur of silver and dust barreled down the road, skidding to a stop so fast that pebbles shot out in every direction.

Naruto stood there, grinning.

But no one was looking at him.

They were staring at the massive wooden crate strapped to his back.

It was fastened with a chaotic mess of ropes—half-assed knots, crisscrossed straps, and what looked like a shoelace.

"Sorry I'm late!" Naruto said cheerfully, scratching the back of his head. "You won't believe it! I was fighting this huge dragon—well, actually, it was a wyvern! And I teamed up with this really cool guy who's looking for his own sun!"

Silence.

Sasuke squinted. "Looking for his own… sun?"

"Sounds legit," Kakashi muttered, still not looking up from his book.

Sakura, however, was done.

"Naruto. What is that?!" she demanded, pointing at the suspicious crate.

Naruto patted the wooden box proudly.

"Oh, this? It's got all my important supplies."

Sakura's eye twitched harder.

"Then why not use a storage scroll like a normal person?!"

"Nah," Naruto said dismissively. "This works better for training!"

Translation: All his supplies were in his inventory. The crate actually contained Oscar.

From inside, the little lizard scratched the wood.

Scritch. Scritch.

Naruto elbowed the crate.

Shush!

The activity was suspicious—but Sasuke didn't care, Sakura just wanted to get moving, and Kakashi? Kakashi let Naruto be Naruto.

Whatever was in that crate, it would be revealed sooner or later. Kakashi sighed, snapping his book shut.

"Alright, now that everyone's here, let's get started. We've got a three-day trek to the Fire Nation's border. From there, we'll catch a boat to the Land of Waves. Stay sharp."

Team 7 and 8 gave a collective nod. But Tazuna shuffled over to Naruto, holding out the beer bottle.

"Here, kid. Just like you asked for."

"Oh, thanks, old man!"

"Wait, Naruto!" Sakura interjected. "You can't drink before an important mission!"

Kakashi waved a hand lazily.

"It's fine, Sakura. One sip won't hurt."

Naruto took a hearty swig.

His face froze. His eyes widened. His mouth twisted. The bitter, burning liquid hit his tongue like liquid regret. He coughed, smacked his lips, and grimaced.

"Huh. Is this what being an adult tastes like?"

Then anotification flashed in his mind.

[ Poison Bar: 4% ]

Naruto stared at the bottle.

"Uh… Sensei?" he said, voice tight. "Is this poison?"

Silence.

All eyes slowly turned to Tazuna.

"Whoa, kid, relax!" Tazuna yelped, holding up his hands defensively. "It's just alcohol! Nothing dangerous!"

Kakashi plucked the bottle from Naruto's hand.

"Let's not take any chances, hmm?" he said, inspecting the liquid with mild amusement.

With a swift series of hand seals, his fingers blurred into motion. A faint blue glow enveloped his palm.

Ninja Art: Poison Detection.

"Sensei, what does that jutsu do?"

"It's a basic medical technique," Kakashi replied. "I send a controlled pulse of chakra through the substance. If there's poison, the chakra reacts and changes color—red, black, or something equally ominous."

Naruto watched intently as Kakashi's chakra rippled across the liquid.

The bottle remained clear. The glow faded.

"Looks like you're in the clear."

Naruto frowned harder. "Then why did my system say it's poison?"

Sakura squinted. "Your… system?"

Naruto ignored her.

"Wait. Is alcohol a poison?"

Kakashi tilted his head.

"Technically, yes. Alcohol is a mild toxin. But in small amounts, it's not harmful."

Naruto went still then he chucked the bottle into the woods.

Hard.

It vanished into the trees, sending birds screeching into the sky.

"HEY!" Tazuna yelled. "That was good booze!"

Naruto crossed his arms.

"First cigarettes, now alcohol? Adults have such sad lives."

Kakashi chuckled.

Sakura sighed.

"Sensei, can you teach me that Poison Detection jutsu?"

"Of course," Kakashi said. "After this mission is over."

Naruto grinned. This mission was already turning out to be way more fun than he expected.

Team 7 and Tazuna trudged along the path for hours, the quiet broken only by the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps on the dirt trail. The journey had been uneventful so far, except for Tazuna getting tired midway. This led to an impromptu rotation system where each member of Team 7 had to carry the old man on their back. As night fell, they set up camp, with Naruto taking the lead using shadow clones. Just like they'd been taught in the academy, he started by selecting an appropriate location. They chose a spot off the main path—higher ground, surrounded by dense foliage. The elevation gave them a vantage point to detect enemies, and the foliage provided much-needed cover.

Sasuke was tasked with covering their tracks, ensuring no one could trace them. Meanwhile, Sakura began digging a Dakota fire pit—a concealed and efficient cooking setup where two holes were dug, one for the fire and another for ventilation, connected by a small tunnel. It minimized smoke and ensured the flames weren't easily visible.

Kakashi, on the other hand, took the least effortful task—protecting Tazuna. The old man was sleeping, and their sensei, ever nonchalant, had his nose buried in his book.

Naruto, focused on their sleeping arrangements, laid out some sheets and foil blankets for warmth. While everyone else worked, he wasn't particularly thrilled about dinner. They only had rice and a bland, water-based soup to prepare—no spices, no oils, and nothing that might leave a lingering scent for enemy shinobi to track.

"Let me guess, Naruto, you have some ramen on you," Sakura teased as she worked.

"Yeah, but I'm not going to eat it."

"Why not? It's just a C-rank mission," Kakashi said, his tone light.

Tazuna, half-awake now, asked, "Can eating this ramen really cause any problems?"

"Well, yes," Kakashi replied. "The smell could linger and attract enemy shinobi. It's standard protocol to avoid fragrant foods on the field. But you don't need to worry about it—it's just a C-rank mission."

Tazuna began to sweat as Kakashi's one visible eye narrowed. Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto exchanged glances, understanding the unspoken implication: Kakashi knew this mission was more dangerous than Tazuna had let on and wanted the old man to come clean.

Feeling a nudge from Sasuke's foot, Naruto grinned. "Sensei, I'm not going to eat it. Gotta act like a ninja on the field, right?"

Tazuna sighed in visible relief as the tension eased, though his shoulders remained slightly hunched.

Kakashi glanced at the trio, his tone flat. "Is that so?"

The group felt the weight of his gaze, their nervousness growing. Sensing the need to break the tension, Naruto decided on an unconventional approach—he loudly farted.

Sakura and Sasuke immediately took a step back, grimacing.

"Naruto!"

"Anyway," Naruto said casually, stretching as though nothing had happened, "nature calls." He grabbed his crate and disappeared into the shadows, leaving his teammates and Tazuna to deal with the awkward silence that followed.

Naruto walked a little distance away from the camp, his movements deliberate. They'd been taught in the academy to relieve themselves far from the campsite and to bury the evidence afterward to avoid attracting wildlife or enemies. The night was quiet, the only sounds the distant chirping of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves. He arrived at a small clearing with a puddle of water reflecting the moonlight. It seemed unremarkable, so he thought nothing of it.

He crouched down, opening the box he had brought with him. Inside were a few essentials: a couple of small blankets, some raw meat wrapped in leaves, a water bottle, and, nestled atop it all, a crystal lizard.

"Alright, Oscar," Naruto said with a grin, gently reaching in. "Let's get you out for a bit."

The lizard squirmed slightly as Naruto lifted it out, its legs stretching out stiffly before it clung to his hand. Naruto chuckled as he set Oscar down on the ground, watching as the little creature hesitated for a moment, sniffing at the air. Slowly, it started to move, its claws scratching faintly against the stone as it explored the area. Naruto leaned back, watching Oscar's slow, deliberate movements as the lizard paused to flick its tongue out at a stray leaf. It crouched low, shifting its weight carefully as it tested the terrain. At one point, Oscar stopped and tilted its head, staring intently at a rock as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"What are you up to now?"

He watched as the lizard nudged the rock with its snout, pushing it aside before scurrying back toward him. It paused a few steps away, turning its head to look at him expectantly, its tail curling slightly.

Naruto extended his hand, and Oscar scurried up his arm, its claws lightly gripping his sleeve. It perched on his shoulder, still as a statue for a moment before flicking its tongue against his cheek.

The pair sat in comfortable silence, Naruto occasionally petting Oscar's smooth, cool scales as the lizard seemed to relax completely. It adjusted its position a few times, curling its body closer to his neck for warmth.

Then Naruto heard it—a faint sound, like water shifting unnaturally, as though something alive had disturbed it.

His body tensed, his Way of Focality flaring as his eyes darted toward the puddle. Suddenly, with a wet gurgle and splash, two figures erupted from the ground, water dripping from their forms.

They struck fast—no hesitation, no words.

The chain lashed out like a viper, its razor-edged links glinting faintly in the misty light. It coiled around Naruto in an instant, the pull so fierce it threatened to crush him where he stood. The claws on the other end gleamed with venom, hungry to sink into flesh.

But as they pulled, the chain snapped taut on nothing.

Naruto flickered out of their grip, reappearing several feet away, his massive Zweihander already in his hand.

The Demon Brothers froze for half a heartbeat, their instincts sharp enough to recognize the danger of that blade. The memories of Zabuza's brutal massacres surfaced unbidden.

Yet hesitation had no place in their craft.

They melted into the terrain as the nearby stream churned unnaturally.

Mist exploded outward like an avalanche, consuming the forest in seconds. Thick, wet, and clinging, it devoured everything, reducing the world to a suffocating white void. Even the faint rustle of leaves seemed swallowed.

For most, it would be the end—a grave made of silence and shadow.

But Naruto wasn't most people.

His grip tightened on his sword. He used Shadow Clone Jutsu, eight of them erupting into existence and scattering. Yet no sound came. No sign of movement. Gozu and Meizu had spent their lives navigating the shadows, working as assassins who always struck when their targets were at their most vulnerable.

But this boy—this child—had upended all of their expectations.

At first, they had assumed he must be the son of the Fire Daimyō or some other noble, apprenticing under one of Konoha's renowned jōnin. That would explain the absurdity of his sword, his armor, and his unnerving combat prowess. But when the boy summoned an army of shadow clones, their shock turned to alarm. The Shadow Clone Technique wasn't just a jutsu—it was a major tactical advantage of Konoha's elite. It was the kind of secret the Leaf wouldn't risk leaking, not even to its strongest genin.

Yet here was this boy, a samurai no less, wielding it effortlessly.

But it didn't matter.

He was just a boy.

A dangerous boy, yes, but still inexperienced.

And more importantly, he was a boy with a sword and armor that could fetch a king's ransom.

That's why Gozu and Meizu had chosen to attack at night rather than waiting until morning—they would kill him quickly, take his gear, and disappear before the jōnin or his team could react.

Within the mist, Gozu and Meizu moved like predators, their forms invisible even in close proximity. They had perfected their craft—silent, precise killers.

With a sharp clap of his hands, Gozu dropped into a low stance, his fingers weaving through a rapid sequence of hand signs. The ground beneath Naruto and his clones began to shift and churn, the once-stable earth turning slick and treacherous.

Water Style: Mud Terrain!

The earth beneath them transformed into a sludgy mire, sucking at boots and threatening to drag anyone who wasn't quick or light-footed into its sticky grasp. Gozu smirked, his dark eyes narrowing as he watched Naruto and his clones step into the trap. A heavily armored samurai? He'd never be able to maintain balance on such unstable terrain.

But Gozu's smirk faded almost instantly.

Naruto and his clones moved across the mud with an unnatural ease, their heavy boots seeming to glide over the mire as though the terrain wasn't even there. The mud that should have sucked them down and stalled their movements might as well have been solid stone beneath their feet.

"What the—?"

Naruto grinned, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Thanks, Iron-Rusted Ring," he thought.

The magic ring on his hand faintly pulsed, its passive effect subtly stabilizing him and his clones. Its magic ensured their footsteps were steady even on uneven, treacherous terrain, and now, it turned Gozu's carefully laid trap into nothing more than an inconvenience.

Gozu's smirk faltered as the first of the clones reached him, their massive Zweihanders raised high for the kill. Gozu jumped back, narrowly avoiding the first downward swing as the blade cleaved into the mud, sending a spray of muck into the air.

Gozu's eyes widened as he watched the massive blade swing toward him, its edges glowing with a deadly swirl of wind chakra. His instincts screamed at him to dodge—there was no way a direct clash would end well.

How is a genin using the legendary Vacuum Blade?!

The thought struck Gozu like a kunai to the skull. It was impossible. That technique wasn't just some simple chakra flow—it was Vacuum Blade, a technique even the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist spoke of with respect.

Even he and Meizu, with over a decade of experience, had never encuntered such a technique. Few ever did. It was an art reserved for the most elite of swordsmen.

And yet, this brat—a genin—was wielding it like it was second nature.

That could only mean one thing. That sword had to be chakra metal.

A blade like that? Priceless. If they got their hands on it, they could sell it for a fortune—enough to retire, to live like kings, to never take another bloody contract again.

But that begged an even bigger question.

Who the hell was this kid?

But before he could fully retreat, the boy's clones surged forward, their movements impossibly fast and unnervingly coordinated. They came at him from every angle, their massive blades flashing in deadly arcs. Gozu twisted and dodged, narrowly avoiding one blade that came so close it grazed his shoulder, the sheer force of the swing sending a cold rush of air past his face.

Too close, Gozu thought, his heart hammering. He backpedaled again, his mind racing. I need to get out of this—

His focus slipped for a split second, and that was all it took.

One of the clones feinted low, forcing Gozu to sidestep. Another came from the side, its Zweihander carving a wide arc that drove him directly into the path of another clone. The massive sword descended, glowing with a razor-sharp aura of wind chakra, and Gozu had no time to think. Pure instinct took over, and he raised his clawed gauntlet to block the strike.

He shouldn't have.

He knew he shouldn't have.

The moment the weapons met, Gozu felt it. The raw, overwhelming power of the wind chakra surged through the blade, cutting through his gauntlet like it was paper.

The crack of metal shattering echoed through the mist, followed by the sickening sound of flesh tearing.

Gozu's gauntlet and hand separated cleanly from his arm, spiraling through the air before splashing into the mud below.

His forearm burned as a guttural scream ripped from his throat. He staggered back, clutching the jagged stump of his arm as the pain overwhelmed him. His footing faltered, and he dropped to one knee, his vision blurring as the clones pressed forward, their glowing blades promising no mercy.

Meizu emerged from the mist, his chain coiled in one hand, dripping with chakra flow, slicing through two more clones with a savage arc. Smoke filled the air as the decoys were obliterated, but it did nothing to ease his tension.

He darted to Gozu's side, his sharp eyes narrowing as his brother clutched his bloody stump, crimson pooling thickly in the mud beneath him.

"This isn't normal," Meizu growled under his breath. "What kind of genin fights like this?"

Gozu grimaced through the pain, his teeth clenched as blood oozed uncontrollably from the jagged edge of his severed arm.

"This kid… he's nothing like the marks we've taken before. The armor, the clones, that sword, the vacuum blade…"

Meizu didn't waste time. He knelt beside Gozu, jamming the senbon needles he held into the bloody stump.

Ninja Art: Pressure Point Jutsu!

Chakra pulsed faintly along the senbons as they sank into critical points along Gozu's arm. The bleeding slowed almost immediately as Meizu's quick application of the jutsu stabilized the injury. Gozu sucked in a sharp breath, his vision swimming as the pain dulled slightly. He glanced up at Naruto, who still hadn't moved from his position in the mist. The boy stood there, calm and calculating, his massive Zweihander resting on his shoulder.

He hadn't pressed the advantage, hadn't rushed forward to finish them off.

Meizu's brow furrowed as he followed his brother's gaze.

"What's he waiting for?" he hissed, his voice laced with confusion. "Does he think we'll just give up? Is he some naïve brat who believes in fighting with honor?"

But before the thought could settle, Gozu's tone hardened, cutting through the silence.

"Meizu, drop the mist."

Meizu hesitated, his hand hovering over the senbons still embedded in Gozu's arm.

"Are you crazy? If we drop it, we'll—"

"Drop it," Gozu growled through clenched teeth.

Something in his tone, a primal edge of fear, made Meizu obey without question.

As the battlefield cleared, both brothers froze.

The clearing was filled—completely surrounded—by hundreds of shadow clones.

They stood in perfect formation, stretching in every direction, their identical faces all turned toward the Demon Brothers. But the worst part wasn't their sheer number—it was their demeanor. The clones weren't tense, weren't poised for an attack. Instead, they stood there with a bored nonchalance, as if waiting for a signal. One clone yawned exaggeratedly, while another lazily scratched the back of its head. A few even looked like they were chatting amongst themselves, as if this was a casual game rather than a life-or-death battle.

One of the clones stepped forward, a sly grin on its face. It glanced back at the others and said in a mock-serious tone,

"Alright, whose turn is it next? I'm getting bored."

The brothers' hearts stopped.

This wasn't a fight anymore. This was an execution waiting to happen.

"Gozu, you have to run."

Meizu's voice was low, steady, and final. It wasn't a suggestion—it was a command.

Gozu clenched his jaw, his hand shaking as he clutched the stump of his severed arm, blood still trickling down his wrist despite the senbon needles holding the worst of it at bay. He knew what his brother meant.

Gozu locked eyes with Meizu, his lips trembling slightly before he nodded.

"Goodbye."

Meizu's expression didn't waver. There was no fear, no hesitation. He straightened his posture, his chain coiling loosely in one hand as his fingers began to blur through dozens of hand signs. The water in the nearby stream rippled unnaturally, rising like a living thing, coiling and twisting around his body.

The liquid surged upward, forming an elaborate water construct—a ceremonial lion costume. The water flowed unnaturally, thick and heavy, shaping a massive lion's head that engulfed his upper body. The head was wide and jagged, its mane flowing like liquid flames, with hollow, glowing eyes made of compressed chakra. Meizu's body was encased within the lion's jaws, his movements hidden inside as the construct roared with unnatural energy. The translucent construct pulsed, its surface rippling as if alive, shimmering faintly under the moonlight.

Naruto's eyes narrowed, and a strange memory flickered in his mind: the New Year festivals back in Konoha, where two performers would dance under a lion costume, its massive head bobbing and weaving to drums and cheers. But this… this wasn't festive.

This was deadly.

The lion head let out a guttural howl as Meizu surged forward with the liquid construct, the stream feeding into it with every step. His speed was incredible, the water roaring around him like a whirlpool given legs. He leaped high into the air, the construct twisting and expanding around him, now twice his size.

"Water Style: Dance of Death!"

The construct reached its peak as he dove downward, aiming directly at Naruto. The lion's head opened wide, its teeth elongating into massive water blades glowing faintly with chakra. The moment it hit, the entire construct would detonate—a deadly explosion designed to obliterate anything in its radius, tearing apart enemies with compressed water and chakra.

Gozu didn't hesitate. Tears streamed down his face as he activated Shunshin no Jutsu, his body vanishing in a blur of speed. He sprinted through the forest, each step like a dagger to his heart. He didn't want to leave his brother behind.

They had dreamed of returning to their homeland, of helping Zabuza-sama kill the tyrant who oppressed them. They wanted to be remembered—not as nobodies, but as warriors who fought for a cause. And now, Meizu was giving his life to make that dream possible.

"You were my hero, brother…" Gozu whispered, his vision blurred by tears as he leapt from tree to tree.

There was no time to hesitate.

Naruto shifted his grip and summoned the Drake Sword. The weapon shimmered in his hands, its sleek, dark blade humming faintly as it absorbed the wind chakra around him. The air spiraled toward the blade, creating a violent vortex along its edges, the sword now vibrating with raw, deadly energy.

As the water lion construct descended, Naruto raised the Drake Sword and swung downward with all his strength.

The impact was cataclysmic.

The blade unleashed a massive shockwave of wind chakra, a crescent-shaped arc of slicing air that roared upward. It collided with the water construct mid-air, and for a moment, everything froze—the lion's head split open, the compressed water struggling against the overwhelming force of the wind chakra.

Then, the shockwave detonated.

The wind chakra tore through the water jutsu, shredding it apart. The compressed water exploded outward in a violent torrent, sending massive, spiraling streams of water in every direction. The ground beneath shook as the shockwave carved through the forest, leveling trees in its path.

A howling roar echoed through the battlefield as the shockwave blasted through the surrounding area, its force uprooting ancient oaks, splintering trunks into shards, and carving deep gouges into the earth. The mist that had lingered in the air was ripped away in an instant, replaced by a deafening silence.

When the dust settled, the battlefield was unrecognizable. The stream had been obliterated, reduced to scattered puddles amidst the devastation. Dozens of trees lay felled, their trunks shattered like brittle twigs. Deep gashes scored the earth where the wind shockwave had passed, the ground itself torn apart as if by a giant's blade.

Naruto stood at the center, the Drake Sword still humming faintly in his grip. The air around him crackled with residual energy as the last remnants of the water jutsu dissipated into harmless mist.

Gozu glanced back as the roar of destruction reached him. His heart sank when he saw the aftermath.

His brother's jutsu—their ultimate trump card—had done nothing. The boy had countered it like it was nothing more than a nuisance.

Despair filled his chest, but he didn't have time to process it. Suddenly, the sound of Shunshin crackled behind him.

He barely had time to turn his head before Naruto appeared at his side, his expression hidden behind his helmet.

Gozu's eyes widened in horror.

How is this monster a genin?!

That was his last thought before Naruto's leg shot upward, an axe kick descending like a guillotine.

The blow struck Gozu squarely on the back, the force of it slamming him into the ground with a sickening crunch. Pain exploded in his spine as the bones shattered, the impact carving a small crater into the dirt. Gozu's body convulsed briefly before going limp, the pain overwhelming his senses.

[ You have killed hostile Enemy — Meizu ]

[ Dropped Items ]
[ - Tekko-Kagi ]
[ - Shuriken Chains ]
[ - 500 Soul ]

Konoha was not reckless. Missions weren't handed out like cheap festival trinkets. Every assignment underwent extensive scrutiny. Behind every mission stood an entire department—analysts, intelligence officers, and strategists—combing through reports, weighing risks, predicting possible threats. When the assignment to escort Tazuna reached Kakashi, Gatō's name had already been flagged.

There was a high probability that Gatō would send mercenaries. Maybe even rogue shinobi. The likelihood of combat was undeniable.

And yet, the mission was approved.

Because the reward outweighed the risk.

A completed bridge meant a new trade route to the Fire Nation. New trade routes meant commerce. Commerce meant missions. More missions meant money for Konoha. And for a shinobi village that thrived on the economy of war, that was an opportunity too good to ignore.

As for the danger? That was why Kakashi was sent.

The instant the Demon Brothers attacked, Kakashi didn't react—not at first. He had a shadow clone grab Tazuna, assigned Sasuke and Sakura to provide support, and vanished into the shadows. The real him had moved unseen, poised to strike the enemy down the second things went wrong.

But that moment never came. Instead, he found himself watching in complete disbelief.

He had planned to let Naruto handle the fight—to gauge his progress, to see how far the boy had come. But what Kakashi saw went beyond anything he had expected.

Brutal efficiency.

The speed. The sheer force behind each attack. The way Naruto cut through the enemy like a seasoned warrior, not a fresh genin.

As he analyzed the fight, his Sharingan traced every movement, every technique. He measured Naruto against the standard shinobi ranks in his head. In terms of technique and experience? Chūnin-level. But in terms of raw power?

That was Tokubetsu Jōnin-level.

"Minato-sensei…"

The way Naruto moved, the way he dominated the battlefield—it was almost eerie how much it reminded him of his late teacher. Kakashi exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain still. If this was how much Naruto had grown in a few weeks… what would he be like in six months? A year?

And yet, despite the pride welling in his chest, there was something else. Something that didn't sit right.

Mysteries.

Because power wasn't the only thing Naruto had gained.

His Sharingan burned, memorizing every detail.

The iron-rusted ring on Naruto's finger.

At first glance? Utterly mundane. Worn down, unimpressive, easily dismissed as a cheap trinket. But in the heat of battle?

It glowed.

Not with chakra—but with something else. Something his Sharingan couldn't trace. Chakra had a flow, a rhythm, a natural movement that his dōjutsu could read like a book.

But this?

This didn't flow. It didn't move like chakra. It just was. And not just was—it did. Even subtler than fuinjutsu, the ring's power didn't act like chakra but still created effects.

Like an artifact.

Kakashi's mind whirred.

He had seen the small, invisible platforms forming beneath Naruto's feet as he sprinted across unstable mud—Gozu's Mud Swamp Terrain should have slowed him down. But it didn't.

Naruto ran across it like it wasn't there. And then there was another unknown ring.

"Where the hell did these come from?"

And then, there was the sword.

It was unlike anything Kakashi had ever seen. It wasn't steel. The surface was organic—faint, muscle-like threads woven into the blade, as if it were a living thing.

The closest thing Kakashi could compare it to was the Seven Ninja Swords of the Mist.

Artifacts from the Warring States Era. Weapons created from a fusion of master blacksmithing and fuinjutsu.

Each sword a national treasure.

Had Naruto stumbled upon an Uzumaki vault?

That would explain the sword.

Maybe even the rings. But not the rest. Not the other strange energy surrounding him. Not the impossible growth. Not the sense of otherworldliness Naruto had started to carry.

Kakashi forced himself to breathe. He cataloged everything.

Hiruzen's words echoed in his mind. "It would be foolish to dismiss mysteries just because they involve Naruto. But from now on, we separate the two. Naruto and his mysteries are not the same. Treat them as such."

Kakashi had agreed. Back then. But now? Now, he wasn't so sure.

"We're supposed to be subtle, Naruto," Kakashi said dryly as he flickered into the clearing, his voice calm despite the battlefield that looked like a small-scale natural disaster had occurred.

"You're slow, sensei."

"That's because I trust you, Naruto. I believe in you."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

Naruto gestured toward the battlefield, the unconscious form of Gozu sprawled in the dirt. "Well, I killed one ninja and captured the other. Mission accomplished, right?"

Kakashi nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on the destruction. He crouched down and picked up Gozu's limp body with one arm, easily slinging the unconscious man over his shoulder. All the while, his mind was racing.

Kakashi's visible eye studied Naruto briefly, noting the boy's calm demeanor, though Kakashi didn't miss the slight nervous twitch in his fingers. Something was on his mind.

"Sensei," Naruto started. "Do you… want to meet Oscar?"

Kakashi's heart skipped a beat. His thoughts immediately derailed, his mind going utterly blank for a moment as questions flooded in.

Oscar?

Did that mean Oscar was here? Now? When? How?

Kakashi's grip on Gozu tightened slightly, his expression unreadable, though his mind was racing. Wasn't Oscar supposed to be dead? Did Naruto somehow have some kind of connection to him?

But before Kakashi could process any of it, Naruto brought two fingers to his lips and whistled.

A faint digging sound broke the silence. Kakashi's eye flicked to the ground, where a patch of mud began to shift. Slowly, a small, glittering creature emerged. A large crystal protruded from its back, glowing faintly with a pulsing energy.

The crystal lizard scurried forward, leaping onto Naruto's leg and climbing up to perch comfortably on his shoulder. It chirped softly, tilting its head as the crystal on its back shimmered like a prism.

"And what is that?" Kakashi asked flatly, his voice as monotone as he could muster despite the growing headache he felt brewing.

Naruto beamed, proud as could be. "This is Oscar!"

The lizard chirped again, its crystal pulsing faintly as if responding to its name.

Kakashi stared at the strange creature, then at Naruto, and then at the utterly destroyed clearing. His mind made the connection immediately—this wasn't the Oscar.

Clearly, Naruto had named the creature out of remembrance for the man. But as Kakashi studied the crystal lizard perched on Naruto's shoulder, he couldn't help but wonder: what exactly was this thing?

It wasn't a summon—that much was obvious. Summons bore the distinct signature of chakra, and this creature radiated none of that. It wasn't a normal animal, either. The glowing crystal embedded in its back wasn't natural, not in the slightest.

The lizard chirped again, and Kakashi's Sharingan shifted instinctively beneath his forehead protector, his trained reflexes compelling him to analyze the creature further. Yet, even with his heightened perception and years of experience, he couldn't make sense of what he was seeing.

The crystal lizard didn't have a chakra network—not in the traditional sense. Instead, there was something else, something foreign pulsing through its body in regular, rhythmic bursts. The energy wasn't chakra; it didn't flow like chakra did. It moved differently, almost mechanically.

It was subtle, but Kakashi's trained eye could see how the creature's presence interacted with the environment. Tiny ripples of the same strange energy spread outward from the crystal on its back, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. It wasn't disruptive—it didn't damage the surroundings or influence chakra flows—but it was there, like a faint hum of static in the air.

The boy seemed completely at ease with the lizard, scratching under its chin as it trilled happily, the sound almost soothing. To Naruto, this was clearly nothing unusual—he acted like it was just another part of his strange, ever-growing list of mysteries.

Kakashi felt even more exhausted. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his visible eye for a moment as he exhaled deeply.

For a brief second, Kakashi understood why so many shinobi turned to alcohol.

"Maybe I should've become an alcoholic," he muttered under his breath before shaking his head. Hell no. Jiraiya-sama's masterpieces are better than alcohol.

A few minutes later, Naruto stood proudly, holding his crystal lizard high like a prized trophy. Sakura and Sasuke looked at him, their expressions ranging from mild disbelief to quiet resignation.

"Isn't he the cutest?"

Sakura leaned closer, her eyes sparkling. "Where did you find him?" she asked, reaching out a hand to pet the strange creature.

Before she could touch it, Oscar hissed, his small mouth opening slightly to reveal tiny, sharp teeth. Sakura recoiled with a startled yelp.

"Oh, I found him injured in some barrels while I was fighting this damn flea-ridden cow," Naruto said matter-of-factly, releasing a long sigh through his nostrils, as if reliving the memory was exhausting.

"What happened to the cow?"

"Oh, it burned itself to death, I think."

Naruto said it so casually that Sasuke immediately regretted asking. He shook his head, muttering something about how talking to Naruto never made sense.

Meanwhile, Tazuna stood off to the side, sweat dripping down his brow. He watched the scene nervously, his gaze darting between the tied-up assassin and Kakashi, who had just finished securing Gozu to the tree.

"Tazuna-san, it seems your C-rank escort mission is far more dangerous than we were led to believe."

Tazuna swallowed hard. "I… I apologize," he said. "I didn't lie to deceive you. It's just… I couldn't afford anything more than a C-rank mission after months of saving up. I have no choice but to beg for your help."

The old man pulled off his hat and bowed low. "Please, protect me until I can complete the bridge. I'll pay you the appropriate amount once it's finished. My daughter, my grandson… my village is counting on this bridge. It's our only chance to free ourselves from the greed of that tyrant. I beg you, oh great Konoha shinobi."

Kakashi hummed, rubbing his chin as he considered the man's words. "Tazuna-san, Naruto just fought two chunin-level assassins. Shinobi specializing in killing, no less. We might face even stronger enemies ahead."

Sasuke's eyes lit up at the thought.

Naruto's grin widened. He stepped forward, raising his Zweihander slightly.

"Precept the First…" he said, his voice steady. "A knight's purpose is to serve… to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

As if on cue, Oscar raised his small arms, as if mimicking Naruto's sense of grandeur.

Kakashi quirked an eyebrow. "Precept?"

Naruto turned to him, still grinning. "It's a thing I follow. You wouldn't understand, sensei."

Sasuke spoke. "We're more prepared than a normal genin team, Kakashi. You can't coddle us forever. We need to face the real world."

Sakura nodded, though she looked less certain. "Sensei, he's right. If we don't face these kinds of missions now, we'll never grow. We're ready."

Kakashi let out another long sigh, though there was a faint trace of pride in his expression.

"Fine," he said finally. "We'll continue the mission, Tazuna-san, but you'll be charged the appropriate amount once the mission is over."

"Thank you," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "If you had declined… you would've left my daughter and grandson heartbroken."

The words hung in the air, and though the team smiled faintly at his gratitude, Kakashi noticed something deeper in Tazuna's tone. Those words weren't meant to guilt them, nor were they a plea for sympathy.

No—those words were for himself.

A quiet mantra, a way to reaffirm his own resolve.

"Alright," Kakashi said, clapping his hands lightly to gather their attention. "But first, we need to prepare."

"Prepare how? Are we training tonight?" Naruto asked, casually setting Oscar near the fire where the lizard curled up happily, basking in the warmth.

"No. It's something more important. During this mission, you'll likely be exposed to your first kill. And most shinobi… freeze up when it happens."

Kakashi turned toward the unconscious Gozu. The weight of his words sank into the air like a stone; the casual atmosphere of the camp dissipating instantly. Sakura covered her mouth. Sasuke's expression hardened, while Naruto's grin faded into something more serious.

"S-Sensei," Sakura stammered, "can't we extract information from this guy? Interrogate him?"

"No," Kakashi said. "We can't take that risk. Even if we tried to interrogate him, he could lie, mislead us, or give us just enough false information to waste our time. People like him are trained for this. The most efficient way is to end it here—remove the head and send it back to Konoha. The Yamanaka Clan can extract the truth directly from his memories, no lies, no risks."

Sakura froze.

Naruto broke the silence, stepping forward and casually drawing his massive Zweihander. "Alright, I'll do it. This should be easy."

"Not you, Naruto," Kakashi said sharply. "You've already killed before. This isn't about you."

Naruto hesitated, then stepped back, sliding the blade onto his shoulder with a nod.

"I don't freeze at the sight of blood," Sasuke said simply. "I've seen enough of it. This won't bother me."

"I know you won't, Sasuke. That's not the point."

Sakura's breath hitched as Kakashi's gaze shifted to her.

"That leaves you, Sakura," Kakashi said, his tone gentle.

Her hands trembled at her sides as she stared at Gozu, her breathing uneven. "M-Me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But—Sensei, I… I can't…"

Kakashi stepped closer, crouching slightly to meet her eyes. "Sakura, you wanted to face the real world. This is part of it. The first kill is always the hardest. But you have to push through, or when the time comes and there's no one else, you'll freeze. And freezing in battle gets people killed."

Sakura's lips trembled as her gaze flicked to Naruto and Sasuke, both of whom were watching her silently. She could feel the pressure mounting, the weight of expectation crushing her. She clenched her fists, but her legs refused to move, her body frozen in place.

Kakashi stayed quiet, giving her the space to decide, but his presence loomed, steady and unmoving. The decision was hers to make.

Sakura's hands trembled as she reached into her pouch, pulling out a kunai. The polished metal caught the faint glow of the campfire, but her grip on the weapon was unsteady. Her knuckles had turned white from the effort, and her breathing came in shallow, uneven gasps. It felt like her chest couldn't expand fully, as though the weight of what she was about to do had wrapped itself around her lungs.

Each step toward Gozu felt like dragging iron weights behind her. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it. The kunai trembled in her hand as she stared down at him—this man, this assassin, who had tried to kill Naruto and her team. His face was slack in unconsciousness, his head slumped forward against the ropes binding him to the tree.

This is right, she told herself, her thoughts spiraling. He's dangerous. He would've killed us if he had the chance. This is what shinobi do.

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, her legs kept shaking. Her grip on the kunai felt fragile, like it could slip at any moment.

Behind her, Kakashi's calm, steady voice broke through the storm in her mind. "Take your time, Sakura. But remember: it's him or us. People like him won't hesitate. If you freeze when it matters, you're not just putting yourself at risk—you're putting your team at risk."

Her fingers tightened instinctively around the kunai, but it felt heavier now, like it was pulling her down. Her throat was dry, and she realized she hadn't taken a proper breath in several seconds. She forced herself to inhale, the sound shaky and uneven.

Crouching slowly, she brought the blade to Gozu's throat. The sharp edge glinted in the firelight, and her eyes darted over his features—the rough lines of his face, the blood crusted at the corner of his mouth, the faint rise and fall of his chest. He looked… human. And that made it so much harder.

Her hand froze.

"Do it, Sakura," Kakashi said softly, his tone firm but not harsh. "This man is a killer. If you hesitate now, what happens when the next one comes after your teammates? What happens when it's Naruto or Sasuke on the ground because you froze?"

Her stomach churned violently. She clenched her teeth, tears brimming in her eyes as she pressed the blade against his neck.

It's him or us, she repeated in her head, over and over again.

Finally, she pushed.

The blade pierced his throat, but her angle was wrong—hesitant. Blood spurted from the wound, warm and sticky against her hands. Gozu's eyes snapped open, wide and panicked, and Sakura froze in horror.

His body jerked violently, a horrible gurgling sound escaping his throat as he struggled against the ropes binding him to the tree. His wild eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, her fear surged into full-blown terror.

He thrashed, the ropes creaking under the strain, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak—but all that came out was a wet, choking sound.

"Sakura, move!" Kakashi barked, his voice sharp like a kunai slicing through the tension.

Her body moved on pure instinct, her mind blank as she raised the kunai again. With trembling hands, she plunged it into his neck, this time driving it deep. Gozu's body spasmed once, then slumped forward, completely limp.

Sakura stared at him, her breathing ragged, her hands locked around the bloodied kunai. Her vision blurred as tears spilled freely down her face, and she let the weapon fall to the dirt with a soft thud.

"I… I didn't mean for him to wake up," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean for it to… to happen like that."

Kakashi crouched beside her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. His voice was low and steady. "It's never clean," he said quietly. "It's never easy. That's the truth of this life. But you acted. You didn't freeze when it mattered, and because of that, you're still here. Your team is still here."

She stared at her bloodied hands, her body trembling. "He… he looked at me, Sensei. Like he hated me."

Kakashi shook his head. "That wasn't hate, Sakura. That was instinct. The moment he woke up, he was thinking of how to kill you. He wouldn't have hesitated." He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "This wasn't about him. It's about you and your team. It's us or them. And you made the right choice."

Sakura sniffled, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve, smearing blood across her cheek. Her legs felt like they would give out, but Kakashi's hand kept her steady.

"You'll carry this with you," he said softly. "We all do. But that weight? It means you care. And as long as you care, you'll be stronger for it."

Sakura nodded shakily, though her tears still flowed freely. "I… I think I'm going to be sick."

Kakashi gave her a faint smile, helping her to her feet. "That's normal. It gets easier with time."

Naruto and Sasuke watched silently from a distance. Sasuke's expression was impassive, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes. Naruto's face, however, was softer, his usual energy subdued. He stepped forward and wrapped Sakura in a firm hug.

"Don't feel guilty," Sasuke said bluntly, stepping closer. "They wouldn't, if it were you in their place."

Sakura nodded against Naruto's chest, her tears breaking into quiet sobs. Naruto glared at Sasuke but said nothing, just holding Sakura tightly. After a moment, Sasuke sighed and placed a hand on her back, awkwardly joining the embrace.

From a distance, Tazuna watched the scene with wide eyes. He took a shaky swig of his alcohol, muttering under his breath, "Ninjas are scary."

Meanwhile, Kakashi finished sealing Gozu's head into a scroll and summoned a ninken to carry it back to Konoha. Standing, he glanced back at his team. "Alright, you three. Let me teach you how to hide a body."

The Land of Waves was a place of contrasts—hidden beauty drowning in creeping despair. Deep within the dense forest, a hideout had been constructed like a nest, a labyrinth of wooden walkways and rope bridges winding through towering trees. From the outside, it seemed to blend seamlessly into the forest, an extension of the canopy itself.

Gatō strode through the main chamber, his stubby legs carrying him with an air of false confidence. His shaggy brown hair was slick with the humidity, and his small, circular black glasses slid down his sweaty nose. He tugged at his purple tie, his yellow shirt already stained with damp spots. Behind him, two towering bodyguards followed silently, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons, eyes scanning for any unseen threats.

The interior was lit by lanterns crafted from polished iron and thick glass, their light flickering across the rough wooden walls. In the center of the room, lounging on the most expensive couch Gatō could buy, was Zabuza Momochi.

The Demon of the Mist was a towering figure of muscle and menace. His light grayish skin seemed almost ghostly in the low light, and his spiky black hair cast jagged shadows across the walls. Dark brown eyes stared half-lidded at nothing in particular, and the bandages covering the lower half of his face hid whatever expression might have been there. Yet the aura he radiated left no doubt—this was a predator resting between kills, calm and utterly lethal.

"Zabuza," Gatō said, forcing a smile as he stepped closer. "I assume you've been enjoying my hospitality?"

Zabuza didn't even glance his way. The silence stretched, and Gatō's forced grin began to twitch. His irritation bubbled beneath the surface, but before he could speak again, a soft voice interrupted.

"Zabuza-sama."

The voice was calm, almost gentle, yet carried an undertone of quiet strength. From the shadows emerged Haku, moving with an elegance that made his every step seem deliberate. His long black hair shimmered faintly in the dim light, gathered neatly in a white bun holder, while two loose strands framed his delicate face. His large, dark-brown eyes, pale skin, and slender frame gave him an ethereal beauty, but there was a sharpness in his gaze—subtle, but unmistakable.

Haku carried two candles crafted from Dorian Wax, a rare substance created by blending the oil of sea-slicked reeds from the coastal marshlands of Kirigakure with the blood of the person they were bound to. The wax was carefully infused with yang chakra, creating a tether between the candle and the life force of its owner. As long as the person remained alive, the flame would burn steadily.

"Zabuza-sama. The flames have gone out. Meizu and Gozu… are dead."

Zabuza sighed, his broad shoulders rising and falling in a motion that felt more dismissive than mournful. "Tch. Those fools couldn't even stay alive long enough to be useful."

"What do you mean?" Gatō snapped. "Are you saying your subordinates were killed? By who?"

Zabuza's gaze locked onto the tycoon with enough weight to make him falter.

"By the shinobi guarding that bridge builder."

Gatō's face flushed red with anger. "What the hell am I paying you for if you can't even handle—"

The room changed.

Zabuza's killer intent seeped into the space like a creeping fog, clinging to their skin and filling their lungs, heavy and inescapable. It was the presence of a predator, not coiling like a snake but stalking like a shadow—a demon born of the mist, silent and suffocating.

Gatō took a stumbling step back, his face pale, sweat pouring down his temples. His bodyguards stiffened behind him, their hands twitching toward their weapons, but the unspoken truth in the room was clear—no weapon could protect them from the man in front of them.

"What… what are you going to do now?"

Zabuza rested his hand on the hilt of his blade. The faint scrape of Kubikiribōchō against the floor filled the silence.

"What I always do."

He rose to his full height, towering over the room as the lantern light cast jagged shadows across his bandaged face. His grip tightened on the hilt of the Executioner's Blade, its massive form glinting faintly in the dim light.

"They're just another obstacle. Just more corpses waiting to fall."

He took a step forward, the weight of his presence suffocating.

"I'll silence them," Zabuza said. "Swiftly or painfully, it doesn't matter. By the time I'm finished, the only trace they'll leave behind…will be the blood-soaked mist that carries their screams."