Chương 89: Traps are Useless Against a Sensory Master

What happens to a shinobi caught without a defense in the full, high-output path of Wind Release: Shadowless Sword? The result was comparable to a. 50 caliber heavy machine gun raking through a dense crowd. The scene was a ghastly tableau of severed limbs and mangled torsos; not a single Cloud ninja had died with any semblance of dignity. They had been reduced to a collection of scattered parts. Thanks to the timely arrival of Dongye Zhen's squad, the Leaf defenders had suffered no casualties.

Even so, as the reinforcements gathered, the visceral carnage forced even these battle-hardened men to suppress a wave of nausea. Yet, pity was a rare commodity. Despite their discomfort, the Leaf shinobi watched the remains of the Kumo invaders with a dark, vengeful satisfaction. One shinobi spat onto the blood-soaked earth.

"Bastards. Dying that quickly was too good for them."

"Enough," his teammate muttered.

"They're dead. What's the play, Captain Iga? Do we recover the remains?" Iga, the Chunin leading the local reinforcement squad, couldn't make that call. He turned to the senior officer.

"Captain Unken, your orders?" Unken Gekko didn't hesitate.

"The shattered ones have no intelligence value. Bury them where they lie. Seal the four we dropped earlier for transport. That will suffice." Iga signaled his men to begin the grim work. Meanwhile, the leader of the outpost—a man of the Hyuga Clan—stepped forward, his expression one of profound relief.

"That was a close thing. If you hadn't arrived when you did, we'd be ghosts. You have my thanks." Unken waved it off.

"We're all Leaf. No thanks necessary. It was purely a matter of luck; we've been tracking this Kumo cell for miles and happened to catch them as they engaged." Zhen stepped forward, his eyes scanning the Hyuga's injuries.

"Senior, let me look at that. You're still bleeding." The Hyuga Chunin blinked in surprise.

"You're a medical specialist too? Truly, the rumors don't do you justice. The finest genius of our new generation indeed." News of the village's recent prodigy had traveled fast with the reinforcement convoys. Within a few days, Zhen's dossier had become common knowledge among the front-line regulars. Even if they hadn't seen his face, his peerless combat style was a dead giveaway. To a shinobi, information analysis was as natural as breathing.

Furthermore, with the Hyuga Clan commanding the Northern Second Headquarters, their members were peppered throughout the defensive line. This was the primary reason Kumo struggled to gain ground; attempting a surprise attack under the gaze of the Byakugan was like dancing through a minefield. The Kumo forces loathed the "White-Eyes" with a burning passion. The young Hiashi Hyuga, however, was indifferent to their hatred.

He was currently obsessed with matching the military prestige Fugaku Uchiha had earned on the Eastern Front. Unfortunately, his more aggressive sorties were repeatedly vetoed by the high command. They weren't interested in glory. Their mission was to hold the line; the true climax of the northern war would be decided at the First Command Headquarters.

The Hyuga had already tasted the bitterness of overextending on the Eastern Front, and no one was willing to risk the eyes of the Clan Head's heir for a few extra merit points. After a brief respite, Captain Iga stood.

"Gentlemen, we must return to our sector. Stay sharp." Unken nodded.

"Go. If you encounter resistance, do not engage. Fire a flare immediately. We're patrolling the adjacent zone and can be on your flank within minutes."

"Understood, Captain. We won't be heroes today." This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Iga's words had barely left his lips when a faint spark ignited in the distant sky. It was a Leaf distress flare. It was far—miles away—but to a shinobi with chakra-enhanced vision, it was as clear as a beacon.

"That's the neighboring outpost," Iga said, his jaw tightening.

"They're under fire." Unken frowned.

"Something's wrong. Why wasn't the attack coordinated? Why is their signal so late?"

"Lately, Kumo's raiding parties have been erratic," Iga explained.

"They aren't pushing objectives; they're just hunting. Their goal seems to be pure attrition—killing as many Leaf shinobi as possible."

"Is that so?" Unken's voice took on a commanding edge.

"Both squads will move to reinforce. The local guard remains here to ensure no one slips through the gap. Move out!" In the field, a Jonin held absolute authority. They sprinted toward the flare, but halfway there, Zhen signaled a hard stop.

"Three targets approaching from the front. Six and a half kilometers out," Zhen reported, his voice clinical.

"The chakra signatures are inconsistent. They're using the Transformation Jutsu." Unken's eyes darkened.

"Then our comrades at the outpost are already gone." Iga's team looked at Zhen in stunned silence. A sensory type? With that kind of range? He could see farther than most Hyuga.

"Should we fall back, Captain?" Iga asked. Unken scanned the dense foliage.

"No. We wait here. Zhen, keep them mapped." A minute passed. Zhen's pace of speech quickened.

"Seventeen more targets have appeared two kilometers behind the initial three. They're fanning out in a semi-circle. It's a pincer trap."

"Two kilometers out?" Unken mused.

"Kumo knows the Hyuga's limits well." Iga felt a cold sweat prickle his skin.

"Unken-senpai, we should retreat." Unken didn't look at him. He looked at his student.

"Zhen, can we take them?"

"They're in the open, and we have the element of surprise," Zhen replied.

"We can pick them apart."

"Good. Prepare for engagement." Moments later, three "Leaf" shinobi stumbled into view, covered in grime and blood. The leader looked at them with a face of pure, desperate joy.

"Thank god! We made it!" They accelerated toward Zhen's group, their expressions of relief so perfectly executed they would have put professional actors to shame. In the shinobi world, acting wasn't a craft—it was a survival mechanism. If you couldn't sell a lie, you weren't an elite; you were a corpse. Unfortunately for them, their cover had been blown before they even arrived. Wind Release: Vacuum Sword. Unken Gekko's response was a pre-loaded arc of lethal air.

The three Kumo ninjas didn't even have time to reach for their weapons before the wind blades tore through them. The Transformation Jutsu dissipated, revealing the swarthy features of Kumogakure. Why was the Transformation Jutsu considered a basic E-rank technique? Because against anyone but a civilian or a careless novice, it was useless. Against the Byakugan, the Sharingan, or a sensory master like Zhen, it wasn't a disguise—it was a neon sign.

"Zhen, lead the way," Unken ordered.

"We hit them where they're thinnest."

"On it!" On the battlefield, precise sensory data was essentially a "wall-hack." It was an unfair advantage, which was why every village guarded their sensory types like crown jewels. It just so happened that Konoha possessed an entire clan of them—a fact that made other villages seethe with envy. Zhen veered the team off-course, slipping through the gaps in the closing circle. They struck from the flank, concentrating their power to delete the Kumo forces before they could consolidate.

They caught the first three-man cell completely off-guard. The Kumo ninjas stared in confusion; this wasn't the plan. Why were seven Leaf shinobi suddenly behind them? They never got their answer. Unken and Zhen led the charge, silencing them before they could weave a single seal.

"Good. Next," Unken urged. Time was the only currency that mattered. They soon encountered a second Kumo squad—a four-man cell consisting of a Jonin instructor and his three students. Zhen lunged for the leader. He opened with a volley of Shadowless Swords. The Kumo Jonin was a veteran; he tracked the distortion in the air and twisted away with predatory grace, drawing his blade to parry Zhen's tanto. His body began to crackle with electricity—he was a practitioner of the Lightning Release Chakra Mode.

However, the true mastery of that mode was reserved for the Raikage line. Most others only hovered at the entry level. Zhen flooded his blade with Wind-natured chakra, extending the edge into a shimmering lance of air. He unleashed a frantic, relentless sequence of slashes. Four strikes in, he sheared through the Kumo ninja's blade and his neck in a single, fluid motion. In the elemental cycle, Wind always reaps Lightning. By the time the leader fell, Unken's group had finished the rest.

"The survivors are congregating, aren't they?" Unken asked.

"Yes," Zhen confirmed.

"They've realized the trap has failed. They're regrouping." Unken checked his gear.

"Catch your breath. The next one will be a brawl. Seven against ten... but we hold the momentum."