Chapter 11: Shadows in the Dark

The rogue ninja's attack shifted.

Ryūsei's Byakugan caught the moment his chakra flow changed—his strikes became sharper, more fluid, as if adjusting mid-battle. This wasn't some brute relying on speed and strength. He was skilled. Experienced.

The assassin twisted his body, feinting a left-handed strike before flicking a kunai at Ryūsei's blind spot. But Ryūsei had no blind spots.

His palm struck out, deflecting the kunai midair before stepping into the man's guard. He aimed for a critical tenketsu point near the chest, but the rogue twisted away at the last second, retreating in a blur.

That was fine. Ryūsei had already learned what he needed.

This man wasn't just skilled—he had been trained specifically to fight a Byakugan user.

Tsunade, meanwhile, was already on the offensive. Her opponent barely had time to adjust as she closed the distance, her fist swinging with crushing force. He dodged again, but her sheer speed forced him on the defensive.

Jiraiya had his hands full with the second rogue, who moved with the precision of a swordsman. Jiraiya ducked and weaved, dodging each slash by mere inches. "Alright, alright! You're fast, I get it!" he muttered, jumping back. "Orochimaru, feel free to help anytime."

Orochimaru, standing on a tree branch, merely observed. His golden eyes flicked between their opponents, lips curling into a faint smirk. "And interrupt? But Jiraiya, you were so confident earlier."

Jiraiya scoffed. "You snake bastard—"

His opponent lunged again, forcing him to dodge.

Ryūsei's focus remained on the leader. Unlike the others, he wasn't attacking recklessly. He was waiting. Analyzing.

Which meant they had a plan.

Ryūsei's mind raced. Why was the Sand Village hiring rogues? Sabotaging the trial was bold, but what did they gain? A few dead prodigies wouldn't turn the tide of war. No—this was something more.

His opponent suddenly darted forward again. This time, his movements weren't just fast—they were precise. His footwork changed, shifting into a pattern Ryūsei recognized.

A Hyūga counter-style.

Ryūsei's eyes widened slightly, and in that moment of realization, the rogue struck.

A kunai glinted in his hand as he moved like a shadow, aiming directly for Ryūsei's throat. But Ryūsei wasn't the same child he had been months ago.

His footwork shifted.

Gentle Step.

He flowed around the strike, his movements impossibly smooth. His palm met the rogue's wrist mid-swing, redirecting the blade just as he twisted into an open stance.

Then he struck.

A precise, chakra-infused palm slammed into the rogue's chest, sending him skidding backward.

For the first time, the man hesitated.

"You've fought Hyūga before," Ryūsei said calmly.

The rogue exhaled, rolling his shoulder. "Close." His eyes gleamed. "I've fought your kind before."

Ryūsei's gaze sharpened.

Not just Hyūga. Ōtsutsuki.

His blood burned at the thought, but he didn't let it show.

Instead, he shifted his stance, raising his hands. "Then you should know how this ends."

The rogue smiled. "We'll see."

From the corner of his vision, Ryūsei caught movement—Jiraiya and Orochimaru had finally switched tactics. Jiraiya, now using his hair-based jutsu to counter the swordsman, had forced his opponent back.

Orochimaru, meanwhile, was no longer watching. He moved like a serpent, fast and unreadable, as he toyed with his opponent—testing their reflexes, their habits, their weaknesses.

Tsunade had finally landed a direct hit. The rogue she faced gasped as he was flung backward, crashing into a tree hard enough to shake the leaves. She cracked her knuckles.

"Give up yet?"

The man groaned, struggling to stand.

Ryūsei turned his full attention back to his own fight. He had learned enough. This assassin—this warrior trained against the Byakugan—had made a mistake.

He thought he was fighting a Hyūga.

He wasn't.

Ryūsei exhaled slowly. Chakra surged through his tenketsu.

The assassin took a step forward—

And Ryūsei vanished.

In an instant, he closed the distance. His palm struck once—twice—four times—eight. Each hit landed precisely, locking down chakra points and restricting movement.

The assassin's body shuddered, his breath hitching.

Ryūsei didn't stop.

Sixteen strikes.

Thirty-two.

By the time he reached sixty-four, the rogue could barely stand.

Ryūsei stopped just short of the final blow, his palm hovering over the man's heart. "Tell me who sent you."

The rogue coughed, blood staining his mask. He chuckled weakly. "You already know."

Ryūsei's gaze darkened.

The Sand Village.

The man grinned, even in defeat. "You're impressive, but you're just a child." He chuckled again, lower this time. "And you don't see it yet, do you?"

Ryūsei frowned. "See what?"

The rogue's grin widened. "That you've already lost."

Ryūsei's Byakugan pulsed—

A sudden surge of chakra behind him.

He spun just in time to see it. A kunai, glowing with an explosive tag, flying straight toward the wounded student they had tried to save.

Too fast. Too close.

Ryūsei moved before he could think.

A blur of motion—chakra surging—he was in front of the boy in an instant.

The explosion rocked the forest.

Smoke filled the air. Debris flew in all directions.

Silence followed.

Then the dust settled.

Ryūsei stood there, unharmed.

The assassin's smirk faltered. "What—"

Jiraiya whistled. "Damn."

Orochimaru chuckled. "So that's your real speed."

Tsunade exhaled. "You idiot," she muttered, but there was no real anger in her voice.

Ryūsei lowered his hand, the chakra shield he had formed fading. He glanced down—the boy was still alive. Barely.

He turned back to the assassin.

"You failed."

The man's expression darkened. Then, without hesitation, he bit his thumb.

A burst of smoke.

When it cleared—he was gone.

A Summoning Technique escape.

The other rogues, seeing their leader vanish, immediately retreated.

Within seconds, they had disappeared into the forest.

Ryūsei let out a slow breath.

The battle was over.

But the war had just begun.