chapter 18:The Storm Fades, but the Ashes Remain

The silence after Raijin no Goro's fall was brief.

The roar of battle on the other fronts still rumbled in the distance. My legs trembled from the effort, blood continued to flow from my side, but there was no time to rest. Sakumo, though wounded, had already wiped his tanto clean and was turning toward me.

"We move," he ordered firmly, not even glancing at Goro's split corpse. "The others need us."

I took a deep breath, ignoring the sharp pain.

The enemy camp was a field of destruction. Explosions illuminated the forest despite the rain, and the flashes of Kumo's Raiton dyed the sky in blue lightning. Konoha shinobi fought desperately against the fierce Cloud combatants, whose speed and coordination threatened to overwhelm our lines.

Sakumo and I advanced like shadows in the storm.

"Arata, cut off their retreat!"

Without hesitation, I formed seals with my bloodied hands.

"Wind Vortex!"

The air roared as the whirlwind was born in the middle of the battlefield. The Kumo ninjas, confident in their speed, were trapped by the sudden pressure. Some were flung into the air, others spun uncontrollably, unable to escape the storm's eye.

A furious shout rang through the chaos.

"Raiton: Raiso Gekishin!"

From within the storm, a surge of lightning danced among the winds, turning my own jutsu into a deadly trap.

"Sakumo!" I warned, but he was already moving.

His white blade slid through the air.

"Konoha no Ken!"

A precise slash cut through the electric current, dissipating it before it could spread.

We gave them no respite.

Sakumo launched himself forward with brutal speed, his tanto dancing among the enemies. A head rolled. An arm fell lifeless. Blood splattered the ground as the Kumo ninjas tried to retreat.

"Doton: Doro Okami!"

From the ground, mud wolves emerged with open jaws, seeking to tear us apart with their hardened fangs.

"Fūton: Shinkūhasu!"

He sliced the air with his palm, and an invisible wind scythe split the mud beasts in two.

Sakumo vanished in a white flash.

"Kage Buyō!"

He appeared behind a Kumo ninja, lifting him with a brutal kick. Before the enemy could react, his tanto was already descending.

The body fell lifeless.

The Kumo forces, noticing our arrival, redoubled their offensive.

"Sandāboruto!"

A sea of lightning exploded around us. The ground crackled, and my skin prickled from the discharge.

"Tch…!"

I jumped back just in time to avoid an electrified kunai piercing me.

But Sakumo…

He didn't retreat.

He ran straight into the storm of lightning, his White Light Blade glowing with lethal intensity.

"KONOHA DAISENKŌ!"

A single slash.

All the electricity in the area was cut in an instant.

The Kumo shinobi watched in horror as their attacks vanished like flames smothered by the wind.

That was when they knew.

The battle was lost.

Some tried to escape.

But I had already marked them.

I raised my hands and gathered chakra into a sphere of fire.

"Kamino Fuga!"

The fiery arrow streaked across the sky and exploded among the enemy ranks. The scorching heat consumed several, and the rest fell to the ground with severe burns.

The remaining Konoha shinobi, seeing us, roared with renewed determination.

The counterattack was ruthless.

The Cloud shinobi fell, one after another, without a chance to react.

Sakumo turned to me when the last enemy resistance was annihilated.

"It's done."

My legs finally gave out, but I steadied myself on one knee.

"We survived…"

Konoha's victory cries echoed around us.

The offensive had been a success.

Sakumo offered me his hand. I took it, and he pulled me up with a firm tug.

The White Fang of Konoha had led his people to victory.

And I…

I had witnessed the power that made our village's enemies tremble.

Suddenly, everyone noticed the last man standing—the Lightning Bubble ninja.

The Konoha shinobi surrounded the Kumo warrior with manic grins. Their faces were smeared with blood, their eyes shone with barely contained sadism. They had watched him massacre their comrades with those crackling bubbles. Now, he was the prey.

The Kumo ninja took a step back, his hands sweating inside his combat gloves. No… this can't be happening. He had felt the adrenaline of the slaughter, the ecstasy of seeing his enemies fall before his power. But now, those same killers were eager to tear him apart.

"Shit…" he muttered, trying to raise his bubble sphere. If he could trigger another explosion, maybe he could break through.

But it was too late.

Sakumo was the first to move, disappearing in a silver flash. Before the Kumo ninja could react, he felt a burning pain in his chest. He looked down. The White Fang's blade had pierced through his torso.

"Gah…" he coughed blood.

The others didn't wait. Arata, though tempted to display his true power, could only watch as his allies pounced on the enemy like ravenous wolves.

A kunai punctured the Kumo ninja's throat. Another severed the tendons in his legs, making him collapse into a pool of his own blood. A third strike shattered his wrist, causing his sphere to fall and roll away.

"N-no… this… this isn't how it should…" he stammered, his eyes trembling with terror.

Sakumo grabbed his hair, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"There is no escape," he declared coldly.

And with a single movement, his tanto slid through the enemy's flesh, severing his head from his body.

Silence fell over the battlefield.

Blood dripped from Sakumo's blade.

The Konoha shinobi, panting from the satisfaction of vengeance, looked around. No enemies were left alive.

Through the shadows of the rain, the survivors slowly advanced across the devastated terrain. The fallen bodies of allies and foes lay scattered, some still steaming or charred, remnants of the devastating jutsus exchanged.

Arata, his hands still stained with blood, helped carry the wounded while some Konoha ninjas inspected the bodies of the Kumo warriors for information. The air smelled of iron and ashes. And, with weary sighs, the march continued.

After a long, silent walk, Arata turned to Sakumo, fatigue weighing on his shoulders.

"Hey, Sakumo," I said tiredly, "where exactly is the base? Because what we had before seemed more like an improvised shelter than a headquarters."

Sakumo smiled with the serenity of someone who had fought a thousand battles without losing his soul.

"It's near the hot springs."

I stopped dead in my tracks. My face immediately twisted into a comically horrified expression, my eyes shining with exaggerated suffering.

"You bastard!" I sobbed dramatically, dropping to my knees as if struck by a mortal blow. "Why are you making me walk so much?"

In my mind, a fleeting thought crossed like a kunai thrown point-blank: I should've let him drown in his misery when he was feeling down…

Sakumo let out a sincere, relaxed laugh, as if the tension of battle dissipated in that moment.

"Oh, come on, Arata. You need to train, don't you?"

I glared at him as a single, ridiculous tear rolled down my cheek.

"Train my legs, yeah, sure…" I muttered, dragging my feet as I kept walking.

Sakumo just kept laughing, not rushing me, enjoying that brief moment of lightness amid the war.

The group moved through the ruins of the battlefield, with the echoes of war still vibrating in the air.

And though the future was uncertain, at that moment, all that was left was to keep walking.

The group advanced through the ruins of the battlefield, with the echo of war still vibrating in the air. The conversation among the survivors flowed in murmurs and tense laughter, a way to lighten the burden of loss.

"I'm impressed, Arata," Sakumo said suddenly, his tone calm but filled with sincerity.

I turned my head, curious.

"Why?"

"Five months ago, I wouldn't have imagined you'd reach this level. Your jutsus are formidable… and the fact that you can execute them without hand seals is truly impressive for your age."

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"I never thought I'd manage to surprise the legendary White Fang."

Sakumo smiled, as if amused by my reaction.

"I'm serious. If you survive this, you'll become a great ninja."

The weight of his words hung in the air for a moment before his gaze sharpened with a certain curiosity.

"By the way, your Sharingan… when did you awaken it?"

I paused, barely perceptibly, before answering with a lie, though my voice remained firm.

"When a comrade I considered a brother died."

Sakumo lowered his gaze for an instant. He didn't respond immediately, but when he looked up again, his expression reflected a mix of respect and sorrow.

"I'm sorry."

I made a dismissive gesture, as if it didn't matter.

"Bah, whatever."

I changed the subject naturally, though the question carried a deeper meaning than it seemed.

"Hey, Sakumo, have you heard anything about your son?"

I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes before his face relaxed again.

"I didn't think you'd ask me that," he admitted with a slight smile. "Truthfully, no… but I hope he's well. After all, he's all I have."

For the first time in the entire conversation, his voice carried a faint sadness.

"Of course, I wish I could be with him to protect him, but I can't…"

I took a deep breath before replying.

"He'll survive… and you must too."

Sakumo looked at me for a moment and then nodded, regaining his usual composure.

"I will."

The rest of the group continued their conversations, exchanging trivial words that blended with the sound of the wind, trying to dispel the weight of war. And though the future was uncertain, in that moment, all that was left was to keep walking.