I Wish to Submit

"Oh my, I didn't expect to be discovered so quickly."

"Those eyes!"

"So it's the Uchiha clan, no wonder."

Voices descended from all directions.

As the leaves rustled, silhouettes appeared atop the treetops. It seemed they had been lying in ambush for a long time, their various ninja outfits cluttered with twigs and foliage.

Arata did not answer.

Although a dozen ninjas had appeared in his field of vision—a formidable force—the Sharingan saw far more than just them.

For instance.

The one hiding underground!

Kujo Sho only felt his vision blur; the youth who had been sitting beside him wiping his blade a moment ago had already vanished.

"Spirit Bind: Red Plum Under Snow."

Ice surged, and snowflakes drifted down.

Before the blocking ninjas could finish their opening remarks, Arata had already made his move.

"Kagerou, watch out!"

Seeing this, the leader's expression shifted abruptly, and he shouted a warning in a deep voice.

He never imagined that a mere brat from Konoha would show no fear when facing dozens of their ninjas, let alone launch the first attack.

Who was robbing whom, and who had surrounded whom?

Within the space, ripples of sound waves spread outward.

"Ninja Art: Cicada Shell Technique."

This group of blocking ninjas was clearly no ordinary lot. Though caught off guard by the youth's actions, they remained calm, worried that the opponent was merely testing them and had not truly discovered their companion hidden beneath the surface.

But how could the power of the Sharingan be fathomed by these foreign ninjas?

If Arata had truly turned a blind eye to that robust blue chakra, it would have been a sign of disrespect to these ninjas.

The ground surface froze, and the Horizontal Blade, clinging with ice crystals, plunged straight into the earth.

Almost at the same moment, a fat, ugly figure burst out from underground, kicking up a spray of soil and shattered ice.

The blade grazed his arm, drawing a streak of blood.

Having failed to land a fatal blow, Arata did not stop; he pulled out his Horizontal Blade and used the force of the ground to pursue.

By now, no matter how slow these blocking ninjas were, they had fully reacted: there was no reasoning with a ninja of the Uchiha clan!

"Ninja Art: Wind Spider Technique."

Suddenly, the wind rose.

Countless white spider threads were carried along by the gale, and upon closer inspection, hanging beneath those threads were tiny, young spiders!

In an instant, Arata's path of attack was completely sealed, and he lost his best opportunity to pursue.

"Hehehe, the silk of my little darlings isn't something that can be cut by mere blades."

A bald man with a sinister face grinned from the treetop, a scar over his right eye adding to his ferocious appearance.

"Come now, just surrender obediently. Otherwise, if we accidentally kill you, it won't do us any good."

"After all, we just want to borrow some money."

His companion added, a rugged, oversized paper cutter strapped to his right hand—it appeared to be his signature ninja tool.

Yet, the response to both of them was a towering, scorching heat.

"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"

The surging flames instantly swept through the spiderwebs blocking the path, and the countless small spiders were reduced to ash before they could even struggle.

What kind of Uchiha ninja wouldn't know Fire Style?

Ridiculous.

"You! My precious spiders!!"

A shrill roar escaped the bald man's throat.

It seemed these spiders were undoubtedly the medium for his ninjutsu.

Arata still did not offer a single word in response.

He had only one goal for this journey:

Battle!

To fight, unceasingly!

All who blocked his path were enemies!

After all, he did not know what kind of iron-blooded baptism Itachi had once endured.

All he could do was frantically hone himself within this increasingly cramped window of time, ensuring he could adapt to the blood and fire of this world as quickly as possible!

Before the spiderwebs had even finished burning away, Arata had already charged forward, letting the vivid sparks rain down upon his body.

"In any battle, the most important thing you need to control is your own rhythm. Make the enemy follow your pace; only then can you dominate the battlefield."

"But what kind of combat style that truly is, you must shape through actual combat."

This was the advice Shisui had given him.

Although Arata had yet to fully establish a combat system for himself, perhaps the style he desired was to strike the opponent with a thunderous blow from the very start, utilizing his strongest posture.

"Stop him!"

Kagerou, who had barely managed to retreat back to the formation, growled.

His voice was truly grating, like an old crone wailing at a funeral, and his ugly appearance was no less repulsive than Sasori's Hiruko, though his mastery of Earth Release could be considered quite accomplished.

"What a waste, you couldn't even take down a little brat."

"Leave it to me."

A rough voice emerged from behind the trio, and a hulking figure suddenly leaped down, intercepting the path Arata was traveling. At the same time, the massive blade strapped to his back swung into motion.

"Fuma Ninja Sword: Horse-Slaying Blade!"

A swift, violent gale accompanied by a powerful roar struck out fiercely.

Yet, Arata acted as if he were oblivious, continuing along his predetermined path.

This scene caused the blocking ninjas to sneer; did he really think a child's strength could withstand a full-power strike from Fuma Hanzaki?

Being cleaved in two was an inevitability.

All that remained was to erase every trace of what happened here.

The man holding the paper cutter subconsciously glanced at the small merchant caravan parked outside the forest path; originally, they had only intended to intercept some wealth.

"Goodbye!"

Fuma Hanzaki grinned as he delivered the verdict.

They had indeed guessed the outcome of the clash; the scrawny Arata was torn apart with ease beneath the Fuma giant sword, showing no ability to resist.

But, what had been torn apart was merely a Shadow Clone!

"Idiot, Hanzaki, watch out!!"

It was that ugly fellow named Kagerou roaring again. He seemed to be the leader of this group of ninjas, and his perception and strength were quite decent.

But such a belated warning was already too late; Arata and another clone had quietly brushed past him.

It was Konoha-Style Kenjutsu: Dance of the Crescent Moon!

As the blade flashed, a massive cross-shaped wound was carved into Fuma Hanzaki's back, and blood and a shrill, agonizing scream erupted in unison.

Of the four ninjas capable of sensing chakra energy, one was already down. Though not yet dead, he could no longer provide any effective combat power.

"I'll do it!"

The man with the paper cutter gritted his teeth, preparing to engage.

After all, among the remaining companions, he was the only one capable of close-quarters combat.

The clansmen he led could only toss Shuriken or fire crossbow bolts to put on a show; against a real ninja like this, they couldn't pose the slightest obstacle.

But before he could even make a move, a whisper reached his ears.

Arata had arrived in the center of the enemy formation before anyone realized it!

"Genjutsu: Bringer-of-Darkness Technique."

The black curtain descended, and everyone within ten meters was plunged into lightless darkness.

From this moment on, this domain became Arata's home turf, and screams began to rise one after another.

Although the power of his Body Flicker Technique was not even half that of his true self, and these guys were not comparable to the previous bandits, they could only become lambs for the slaughter once they lost their vision.

During the chaos, the ninja named Kagerou managed to forcibly break free from the confusion of the Genjutsu.

But what met him was the scarlet Sharingan, and Kasegui no Jutsu instantly suppressed all his subsequent movements.

All around, the scent of death began to spread.

"Please, spare my life. I am willing to submit, please let my clansmen go!"

Enduring immense mental pressure, the ugly-looking man struggled to speak.