Escort Mission

Konoha Village entered a state of war, its machine of violence spinning up to high speed.

The training models of peacetime were discarded; there were no boring missions like finding lost cats or dogs, nor was there time left for newcomers to grow.

At this juncture, newly promoted Genin were thrown directly into the battlefield.

It was like tossing a pile of venomous insects into a clay jar; only the final survivor would be qualified to enjoy peace.

Mo Jingxian's mission was issued quickly; less than a week later, he received his mission scroll.

June mornings broke early.

Just past 8:00 AM, a large number of transport wagons gathered before the gates of Konoha, all loaded with supplies destined for the front lines.

By the time Mo Jingxian arrived, the convoy was already prepared for departure.

"Captain Yamashiro, this is my mission scroll."

He found the team leader and handed over the document.

Yamashiro Shirokumo took it, verified it, and returned it to him.

"So, you are Mo Jingxian."

"Yes. Do you have any instructions, Captain Yamashiro?"

Yamashiro Shirokumo gave him a meaningful look.

"Nothing. Go join the ranks."

Mo Jingxian walked into the formation, silently observing the team's composition.

There was one Jonin, Yamashiro Shirokumo, who was also the captain for this mission.

One Chunin and four Genin, including himself, made for a total of six ninjas escorting the convoy.

It was the standard size of two ninja combat squads.

The cargo beds of the wagons were covered with tarpaulins, arranged in a neat line, accompanied by over twenty civilians driving the carts.

He could not tell what supplies the wagons held, but he could smell a faint, herbal fragrance drifting through the air.

The lines of wagons moved out of the Konoha gates in an orderly fashion, following a fixed route, and disappeared from sight within moments.

At 9:00 AM sharp, it was finally the turn of Mo Jingxian's group to depart.

With the captain's order, the wheels began to turn, and the convoy set off.

Soon, three hours passed.

"Stay alert! The enemy could appear at any moment."

Captain Yamashiro was at the front of the column; his voice carried far, yet every word was clearly audible.

The Jonin led the way, the Chunin brought up the rear, and the four Genin were split into two groups.

One group guarded the middle of the convoy, while the other two spread out to the flanks, maintaining a hundred-meter distance to scout.

The two groups rotated their escort duties.

In truth, the convoy hadn't traveled very far in three hours, covering less than 20 kilometers.

"Halt! Rest here for half an hour."

The order came down, and the convoy stopped in an open area, the personnel scrambling to grab a bite of dry rations.

This was Mo Jingxian's first mission; the novelty of leaving the village was gradually fading, and the rest of the journey promised to be far from comfortable.

This was the daily life of a normal ninja, and most missions were just like this.

He took a moment to chew on his dry rations, using his talent to secretly gather a mouthful of water to wash down the throat-choking bean-dregs cake.

The convoy set off again, and in the afternoon, it was Mo Jingxian's group's turn to provide outer perimeter security.

Running and leaping between the trees of the forest, one trunk after another was left behind.

From the moment he left the village, Mo Jingxian had activated his Mist of Vitality; he had no intention of being killed by a kunai flying from the shadows.

Although they hadn't been out of the village long, there was no harm in being cautious.

After his modifications, the reconnaissance version of the Mist of Vitality consumed less chakra and the mist was thinner, making it easy to overlook if one wasn't specifically looking for it.

The journey proceeded smoothly without encountering any danger, and the convoy reached the designated overnight location before dark.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and the last trace of twilight vanished from the sky.

Night fell.

The wagons were circled up, and campfires were lit on the perimeter, the flickering light casting shifting shadows across the faces of those nearby.

"Xianjun, come over and rest, have something to eat."

Returning from his night patrol, Mo Jingxian did not hesitate to accept the sudden invitation.

He walked a few steps to the campfire and sat down on the ground.

He took the roasted flatbread handed to him by Yamashiro Shirokumo and began to eat heartily.

"I have heard Lord Minato mention you; he has praised your talent more than once."

I see. There is no such thing as love or hate without a cause; everything has its origin.

Mo Jingxian swallowed the piece of flatbread in his mouth.

"You know Big Brother Minato?"

"I once followed Lord Minato for a time, and I was deeply captivated by his character. I hope there will be another chance to fight alongside him in the future."

When Yamashiro Aoba spoke of Minato, the reverence that flashed in his eyes did not seem fake.

"Mm, Big Brother Minato is indeed a very good person, and I admire him as well."

There is no need to say too much; sometimes, it is best to stop at the right moment.

Yamashiro Aoba made a move to stand up.

"Eat slowly, I am going to patrol the perimeter once more."

He patted his shoulder in passing and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"If you encounter an enemy attack, remember not to stray too far from me."

Mo Jingxian watched Yamashiro Aoba disappear into the shadows of the woods and smiled silently.

Wherever there are people, there is a society; this is the benefit of getting into the inner circle.

The reason he was so certain Yamashiro Aoba was not deceiving him was that, up until now, he had not gained any reputation points from the man.

This behavior was entirely for the sake of Minato Namikaze.

For three days in a row, the caravan proceeded smoothly without encountering any accidents.

On this day, Mo Jingxian was moving along with the team.

Suddenly, a warning signal rang out from the woods not far from the caravan.

The caravan stopped immediately, and Mo Jingxian drew his short blade, standing guard on the spot.

Following that, the treetops rustled, and the ninjas responsible for the outer perimeter hurried back.

"Enemy attack! A large group of bandits is approaching."

The Konoha ninjas immediately entered combat mode, guarding the caravan from four directions.

A few minutes later, a rustling sound emerged from the forest.

One by one, bandits began to emerge from the woods.

These could hardly be called bandits; they were even worse than refugees.

Although they were numerous, nearly two hundred people arrived in succession.

But the weapons in their hands were a motley collection; they didn't even have a decent piece of iron, wielding nothing but wooden sticks and stones.

They were disheveled and unkempt, most covering their vital parts with only a few strips of cloth.

The skin exposed to the air looked like cracked, aged tree bark, and their protruding bones seemed as if they would tear through that thin layer of skin at any moment.

They were a group of walking skeletons.

"Stop! If you don't want to die, leave at once."

The threatening words had no effect whatsoever, and the crowd continued to close in.

Seeing such a scene, Mo Jingxian did not know what words to use to describe it; it felt as if a stone were pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Swish, swish, swish!"

A few kunai took the lives of the leaders, yet the crowd showed no intention of stopping.

There was no fear left in the eyes of these people, nor any other emotion—only numbness remained.

"Eliminate them."

The captain gave the order, and his subordinates had no choice but to execute it unconditionally.

Blades sliced through necks, and the blood was red.

As the heads left the necks, the numbness in their eyes finally faded, and they closed their eyes forever with a fleeting sense of satisfaction.

Mo Jingxian had never imagined that his first battle would be a scene like this.

There was no real resistance; the enemies were harvested like Maze, row after row.

Perhaps, for them, death was a form of release.

Until the last enemy fell at his feet, his blade remained unsheathed for a long time.

The team set off again, the previously relaxed atmosphere replaced by a murderous chill; a baptism of blood had forced the new ninjas to quickly shed their naivety.

There were no lectures, nor was there any right or wrong—only survival.

From this moment on, Mo Jingxian plunged headfirst into the great poison jar that was the Ninja World.

Night fell once more.

Hiding in the treetops on guard duty, he could still see the flickering points of fire in the distance.

The life of a ninja was somewhat boring; aside from traveling and keeping watch, it was not as wonderful as he had previously imagined.

The Mist of Vitality extended outward bit by bit, occasionally finding him a little amusement.

A small bird appeared within his perception, and the mist gradually drew closer, thickening around it.

By the time the bird sensed danger, it was already too late; the mist transformed into a miniature Water Dragon Technique, binding it tightly.

The water dragon pinned it to a tree branch, rendering its struggles futile.

Slowly, a very thin golden line emerged on the body of the water dragon, and the force of its constriction suddenly intensified.

The unlucky bird opened its beak, but could not emit a single sound.

Fortunately, the strength of the water dragon suddenly lessened, allowing it to keep its life.

No!

It shouldn't have had that effect.

Mo Jingxian hid in the tree canopy, testing the integration of the Principles of Sealing Jutsu into the Water Dragon Technique.

Ever since he woke up in the hospital, he had begun experimenting, but unfortunately, he had not succeeded until today.

"Adamantine Sealing Chains"—the release of this technique required the support of powerful Yang Release chakra, which he did not possess.

But could it be simulated using chakra of other natures?

Mo Jingxian had dismantled the principles of this technique almost entirely and could use the water element to simulate it, yet all attempts had failed.

Where was the gap?

The bird on the distant branch remained firmly bound, while he was left with no clue.

Simulation, frequency, energy—he compared them one by one, his thoughts like a blocked tunnel.

Just as he was at his wit's end, a flash of inspiration struck his heart.

That was it—the symbols!

Language must have an order, and the symbols that communicate with the world must also have an order.

Different mediums were equivalent to different linguistic environments.

I am such a fool; why didn't I think of this sooner?

Taking advantage of the fountain of inspiration, Mo Jingxian immediately began to experiment.

The bird was out of luck.

One moment it was being strangled until it couldn't breathe, and the next it was shivering from being frozen.

Finally, it instinctively sensed a great terror descending and struggled desperately as if in a final burst of life.

The golden lines on the body of the small water dragon began to twist and coil, gradually revealing profound symbols.

Unknown laws descended, and the bird ceased its struggle; though it was still alive, it had lost control of its body.

A rune fully formed, and the body of the water dragon suddenly collapsed.

Regaining its freedom, the bird seized the opportunity to soar into the sky, fleeing far away from this devilish place.

Mo Jingxian extended his palm, and a water dragon appeared above it.

Then, the water dragon turned into mist, only to manifest again in the distance.

The Water Dragon Technique, infused with the Principles of Sealing Jutsu, had successfully achieved its initial fusion, and as the number of tests increased, it became increasingly handy to use.

A water dragon as thick as an arm emerged from his back, looking like a living creature as it raised its head toward the moon.

Then a second, a third...

In one breath, he summoned eight water dragons.

It corresponded perfectly to the Adamantine Sealing Chains technique.

With the water dragons churning behind him, Mo Jingxian felt as if he had suddenly grown eight extra arms.

Such a novel sensation stirred his playfulness, and he controlled the dragons to climb among the branches.

Within the range of the Mist of Vitality, all information rushed into his brain at once, nearly causing him to tumble down.

He had overdone it.

He hurriedly retracted the technique, finally severing most of his connection to the Mist of Vitality.

His excitement was difficult to contain; if the circumstances had allowed, he would have truly wanted to throw his head back and laugh.

Tonight, a new ninjutsu

—was born at his hands!