Hagoromo's summoned beast smashed through the outer wall of the stronghold in an instant, charging in from one side of the Kirigakure base.
Along the way, it likely trampled several unlucky Mist ninja who hadn't reacted in time—then continued straight through the compound, bursting out the opposite end.
Its task was complete.
It had existed solely as the key to "Open Sesame (Breaching Summon)."
The summoning dispersed on its own.
The massive breach created by the charge was more than enough for large numbers of Konoha ninja to pour directly into the stronghold.
Hagoromo briefly considered waiting a minute or two, entering together with the main force like an orderly flood—
When someone already rushed in ahead of everyone else, as if afraid of missing out.
To avoid leaving that person to be beaten to death alone, Hagoromo immediately followed.
After all, watching an ally get slaughtered without acting might get him charged with passive combat.
The smoke and dust at the breach hadn't yet settled. Visibility inside was nearly zero.
Hagoromo dispelled Chidori Current, retaining only a low-output Lightning Release that left no obvious visual traces.
In an environment where no one could see clearly, glowing like a lightbulb was just begging to be focus-fired.
He had neither the Byakugan's vision nor the Sharingan's cheat-level dynamic perception.
Low profile was better.
No hesitation.
Without stopping inside the smoke, Hagoromo lunged straight into the stronghold.
This clearly wasn't the enemy's inner core.
Despite breaching the wall, the interior opened into a wide, outdoor space.
Which meant—
Perfect terrain for large-scale combat, and mass enemy deployment.
Hagoromo had once survived being swarmed by ten thousand enemies.
But even a few dozen opponents warranted caution.
His ninja sandals struck the stone ground in steady rhythm—tap, tap, tap.
He wasn't moving particularly fast.
Nor was he slow.
Unlike before, he didn't push himself to absurd, citation-worthy speeds. Instead, his movements carried an air of calm control.
Effortless.
Mist ninja rushing out of the smoke naturally charged him head-on.
Calling enemies "grass to be cut down" might be exaggeration—
But Hagoromo did have experience dealing with encirclement and suppression.
In such situations, the most basic rule was this:
As long as stamina and endurance were preserved, the body must never stop moving.
Stop, and you get surrounded.
Surrounded, and you die.
Hagoromo sprinted forward, then twisted lightly into the air.
His left leg lashed downward like a whip—
A vertical cleaving kick that struck the back of the foremost enemy's neck.
Lightning Release stimulated cellular activity, pushing Hagoromo's physical attributes to a completely different tier.
Strength included.
Bang.
The enemy never even reacted.
Head-first, he slammed into the hard stone ground.
If he had exceptional durability, maybe he'd survive.
If not—
Next stop: the botanical garden.
Two more enemies followed immediately, attacking from both sides.
Twin kunai slashed toward Hagoromo's ribs.
A pincer attack?
His expression didn't change.
He landed in a low crouch, coiling his legs, then exploded upward again.
His movement traced a perfect arc—
Like a clock hand sweeping a full circle, pivoting around his head.
As his body inverted, it also began spinning sideways.
No visible arm movement—
Yet eight shuriken burst outward from his position, shooting toward the encircling enemies farther out.
In that single inverted instant, Hagoromo had already:
Corrected his vision
Identified targets
Calculated trajectories
Thrown the shuriken
Adjusted their flight paths
Or rather—
This had long since become instinct.
Conditioned reflex.
He landed smoothly, ignored the two attackers behind him, and continued charging forward without pause.
Given his accuracy—aiming for throats and faces—any hit meant immediate death.
Whether blocked or not was irrelevant.
Clang.
Thud.
The sounds of deflection mixed with shuriken piercing flesh.
No time to confirm results.
Ahead—
A straight blade lunged forward, carrying the intent to skewer him clean through.
Forward.
Forward.
Forward.
Hagoromo did not slow.
He did not deviate.
Just as the blade tip was about to pierce his chest, he sidestepped with lightning speed.
Then accelerated again.
His arm slid along the enemy's extended arm like water, slipping beneath the armpit—
Smack.
His palm struck upward into the enemy's jaw.
The sound was crisp.
The result was not.
This wasn't a slap.
It was a short-range explosive strike.
Cervical vertebrae snapped instantly.
The enemy's head lolled backward, lifeless. The blade slipped from his fingers.
Evade.
Strike.
Withdraw.
One fluid motion.
Without turning, Hagoromo flicked his calf backward.
The falling blade kicked upward, arcing cleanly into the air—
And landed perfectly in his left hand.
He reversed his grip and lifted the blade in a savage upward slash.
CLANG!
Sparks exploded.
Another Mist ninja barely blocked, gripping his kunai with both hands.
Such slender arms—
Yet that much strength?
He hadn't even realized—
He was supposed to be the attacker.
Hagoromo had no obligation to explain.
Left hand holding the blade, right hand forming a partial "Ram" seal—
Not true one-handed ninjutsu.
Just chakra focus.
His stance didn't change.
His right foot kicked forward—not a kick, but a press—onto the flat of the blade.
Hands and foot applied force simultaneously.
The sword slid forward—
Unstoppable.
The kunai shattered.
The blade carved diagonally into flesh.
The hilt severed the clavicle, embedding at the shoulder.
The tip emerged from the lower left abdomen.
Half the blade buried in the body.
Borrow a blade from the first enemy.
Use the second enemy as its sheath.
Blade in.
Blade out.
Only then did the first corpse finally hit the ground.
If one asks how an apprentice reaper is born—
If one asks how an apprentice reaper ascends—
Look to Hagoromo.
Strike fast.
Strike clean.
On the battlefield, every second claimed lives.
This—
This ruthless, high-speed, high-efficiency killing art—
Was what a shinobi was meant to do in war.
In this world, chakra was everything.
With chakra, all things were possible.
Without it—
You were nothing but a powerless civilian.
When the main Konoha force finally stormed into the stronghold and witnessed the scene before them, they understood at last—
Why White Yaksha was called White Yaksha.
And why Jōnin Kamishiro Hagoromo received special stipends from Konoha's Elder Council.
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