Whoosh!
Yoru moved swiftly through the darkness.
At this moment, killing intent surged in his eyes.
The Rain shinobi had crossed his bottom line.
Words were meaningless now—
Only blood could wash this clean.
Facing Konoha's three-pronged advance, the Rain Village had also split its forces into three routes. On Yoru's left flank alone, there were nearly three thousand Rain shinobi.
However, due to their lack of high-level combat power, they feared Konoha's Elite Jonin unleashing large-scale ninjutsu within their ranks.
So each division established two camps—
Forming a defensive formation where each could support the other.
Yoru's target—
Was one of the smaller camps, housing around a thousand Rain shinobi.
After all, directly attacking a force of nearly two thousand would carry too much risk.
He stared at the distant camp illuminated by firelight.
Killing intent burned in his eyes.
"Stay alert! We are responsible for the safety of the camp!"
A Rain patrol captain barked at some lazy subordinates.
"Come on, Captain, you're too cautious. It's just Konoha. We're definitely going to win this war," one of them scoffed.
"That's right. Commander Harada Eiji himself said victory will belong to us," another added confidently.
"Of course! Konoha started this war, and we're defending our homeland. We are justice—and justice will win!"
A young Rain shinobi, barely ten years old, shouted with fervor in his eyes.
Whoosh—!
A sharp tearing sound cut through the air.
The sky suddenly turned blood-red.
"What… was that?"
Before they could understand—
Countless magma fists descended from the sky.
It was divine punishment.
Their creator was enraged—
And judgment had come.
"T-That… what is that?!"
"Run! RUN!"
Panic spread instantly.
But there was nowhere to escape.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The magma slammed into the ground like the end of the world.
Rain shinobi screamed as their bodies were crushed and incinerated, reduced to ashes under the relentless assault.
"Damn it! It's Yoru! The left-wing commander of Konoha—his bloodline ability!"
Only now did they truly understand the terror those survivors had spoken of.
"Use Water Release to defend!"
Water walls rose one after another, trying to block the incoming destruction.
But—
It was useless.
Their once-reliable Water Release techniques were utterly powerless against the magma.
Despair filled their hearts.
Some even prayed the magma would strike others instead of them.
Gradually—
The number of magma fists began to decrease.
Then—
They stopped entirely.
"It seems that attack consumes a lot of his chakra…" one of them said, relief washing over his face.
"Quick! He must be exhausted! Find him and kill him!"
The camp commander roared.
They had just lost nearly two hundred men.
"AAAHHH—!"
Suddenly—
Screams echoed across the camp.
"What… what are those?!"
From the craters formed by the magma—
Something began to emerge.
Molten magma bubbled and surged.
Hands—
Formed from magma—
Gripped the ground and pulled themselves upward.
Roars echoed.
"Magma Fiends!"
Countless monstrous figures rose from the earth.
Their voices were the roar of magma itself.
They attacked.
Claws tore Rain shinobi into pieces.
Fangs pierced through their bodies.
Worst of all—
They felt no pain.
No fear.
The flames covering them could not be extinguished, no matter how much Water Release was used.
The magma beneath the ground was their source of power.
As long as magma existed—
They were immortal.
Rain shinobi screamed.
Some collapsed entirely, their minds breaking under the horror.
Their comrades were slaughtered mercilessly, their bodies reduced to ash.
"Yoru! Come out and face me!"
The Rain commander roared into the darkness, his eyes bloodshot.
But in the shadows—
Yoru stood silently.
Watching.
If you act—
You must be ready to pay the price.
"Four hundred fifty-six… four hundred fifty-seven… four hundred fifty-eight…"
He was counting.
His Observation Haki covered the entire camp.
Each fading presence—
Marked another death.
If he said five hundred—
Then five hundred it would be.
Not one more.
Not one less.
"Four hundred ninety-eight… four hundred ninety-nine… five hundred."
Yoru's eyes snapped open, glowing like molten lava.
At that moment—
All the magma fiends froze.
Then—
They melted back into liquid, flowing across the ground.
The crimson color lingered—
A silent testament to the slaughter.
"…Is it over?"
The surviving Rain shinobi collapsed to the ground, staring blankly at the ruined camp.
The air was filled with the nauseating stench of burnt flesh.
Then—
A voice echoed from the darkness.
"You humiliated five souls of Konoha."
"I, Yoru… slaughtered five hundred of the Rain."
It was like a divine decree—
Reverberating in every ear.
So that was it…
He had simply killed enough.
The Rain commander stood there, numb.
"What… are we to him…?"
One shinobi broke down, crying in despair.
Another clutched his head, trembling.
"Can we… really win this war…?"
No answer came.
The voice vanished into the night.
Leaving behind only shattered minds—
And a camp drowning in despair.
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