Chương 205: 205
Deep in the forest east of the caravan, two Sand Jonin stood, watching their target approach. They were Aiko and Kento, husband and wife, both seasoned shinobi of the Hidden Sand. Their expressions were calm, their focus absolute. In the shadows behind them, the eight chunin stood ready, awaiting their orders.
Aiko, her sharp eyes fixed on the caravan in the distance, whispered to Kento, "We must keep Sakumo Hatake busy. He's the only real threat. The genin will fall easily enough, but not with him around."
Kento nodded. "The chunin will follow our lead. We delay Sakumo long enough for the others to complete the job."
She turned to the waiting chunin. "Stay sharp. Target the genin, but don't engage Sakumo. Leave him to us. Your mission is to eliminate the young seedlings. Understood?"
The chunin nodded in unison, their faces set in grim determination. Without another word, Aiko and Kento shot forward, their figures blurring as they disappeared into the trees, heading straight for Sakumo.
Sakumo's Perspective
Sakumo Hatake stood perched on a high branch, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. His genin team was moving along steadily with the caravan, none of them aware of the looming threat. The quiet rustling of leaves and the distant sound of the caravan wheels turning filled the air. But Sakumo's instincts told him something was off.
A flicker of movement in the trees caught his attention. A flash of steel.
In an instant, Sakumo leaped from his position just as a barrage of kunai sliced through the space he had just occupied. He landed softly on a lower branch, scanning the treetops for his attackers. He saw two figures—Sand Jonin—Aiko and Kento, their faces set with lethal intent.
Before Sakumo could react, a surge of chakra engulfed the area, and the branch he stood on exploded into splinters. His body was sent flying, shredding through the canopy and crashing to the ground below.
But as the dust settled, it was clear: the body that lay in the clearing was a mere log, shredded and broken in his place.
Sakumo appeared several feet away, unharmed and ready, his signature tanto gleaming in his hand.
The Sand Jonin landed in front of him, eyes locked on their prey.
No words were exchanged. No taunts, no monologues. They knew what this was—a fight to the death. There was no need for anything else.
The first attack came from Kento, his blade arcing through the air with deadly precision. Sakumo parried the blow effortlessly, his tanto moving like lightning. Aiko was on him in an instant, her kunai aimed for his throat. Sakumo ducked low, sweeping his leg under her, but she jumped, twisting in mid-air to avoid his counter.
The three shinobi moved in a deadly dance, their movements blurring as sparks flew from clashing steel. Kento's strikes were precise, each one aimed to incapacitate or kill. Aiko, quick and agile, darted in and out of the fight, looking for openings, but Sakumo was always a step ahead.
He weaved through their attacks with practiced ease, his movements fluid and calculated. Yet, despite their ferocity, something felt off. The Sand Jonin were skilled, no doubt about it, but they were holding back. Their attacks were precise, but not decisive. They weren't trying to kill him, not really.
They were stalling him.
Sakumo's eyes narrowed as he blocked another strike from Kento. They're too defensive, he thought, parrying another blow and stepping back. His mind raced. They're not taking enough initiative, and they're not pressing their advantage. They're trying to keep me occupied…
In a flash of insight, Sakumo realized their true objective. They weren't here to defeat him. They were buying time—for the rest of their team to target his genin.
His gaze flickered briefly toward the direction of the caravan. His genin were in danger, and he was wasting precious time. He needed to end this, now.
His grip tightened on the hilt of his tanto, his eyes narrowing as the fight continued. Aiko and Kento pressed him again, but now that Sakumo knew their game, he could see their hesitation, their calculated steps to prolong the battle. They were skilled, but they were too careful, too cautious.
Sakumo's mind sharpened with focus. If they wanted a battle of attrition, they had chosen the wrong opponent. He would show them why he was known as the White Fang of Konoha.
With a swift motion, Sakumo infused his blade with chakra, the silver gleam of his tanto intensifying as his chakra flared. The forest around him seemed to still for a moment, the air thick with the weight of his power.
The Sand Jonin hesitated for a fraction of a second, their eyes widening as they sensed the shift in Sakumo's intent.
He was done playing their game.
Sakumo's gaze locked onto them, his voice cold and calm in his own mind. Now, I'll show them the difference between their skills and mine.
The tension in the air grew as Sakumo prepared to strike, his chakra surging through his body, his blade humming with deadly energy.
The fight was far from over.
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực