Servant - Kagerou Fuma

The horizontal blade hung slightly, and the genjutsu was dispelled.

Arata accepted the other party's proposal.

But the moment the light returned, a fierce wind struck from behind him.

"Go to hell!"

A vicious roar swept through the forest path.

Kirikiri was furious.

When had he ever been toyed with like this?

Especially by a brat who hadn't even reached adulthood!

If this got out, how could they continue to stay in the Land of Fields?

Not to mention rebuilding the family glory and bringing the name of the Fuma Clan out of the darkness and into the light!

"Kirikiri, stop!"

Kagerou's eyes were filled with anxiety; he wanted to stop him, but it was already too late.

What on earth was inside the head of this foolish clansman? If the opponent dared to stand in the center of the enemy formation and casually dispel the control of a genjutsu, there could only be one reason:

Absolute confidence in his own strength!

Don't just see a child and assume you can act recklessly!

A ninja's strength is not determined by age!!

The giant paper-cutting blade sliced through the void, and the figure in his field of vision shattered along with it.

The madness and bloodlust in Kirikiri's eyes vanished instantly, and fear began to take their place!

"Another Shadow Clone?"

"How is that possible!"

However, before he could think further, his right arm, which was bound to the giant shears, eerily appeared in his line of sight.

He clearly hadn't launched any follow-up attacks, so how could this be?

It was only then that the delayed sensation of pain reached his nerves, and the agony of his body being torn apart instantly flooded his consciousness.

"Ah!"

"My hand, my hand!!"

A shrill scream rang out through the forest path.

However, there was not a shred of sympathy in Arata's eyes; he raised his blood-stained blade once more, intending to finish the man off.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please spare his life! It is my fault for not restraining my companion, please leave him alive!"

The ugly Kagerou blocked the path in front of Kirikiri.

Although he had been cursing the man as an idiot in his heart just moments ago for not understanding the situation, he still couldn't bring himself to watch his companion die.

Blood slid slowly down the blade and splattered onto the ground.

"There will not be a next time."

Arata said coldly.

"Yes, yes."

Kagerou hurriedly replied in a low voice.

But as he looked around, his eyes were filled with sorrow.

There had been dozens of clansmen when they arrived, but several had died in just a single exchange, and even Kirikiri's dominant arm had been severed. Such losses were a heavy blow to their already declining Fuma Clan.

But who could he blame?

He could only blame their own lack of strength for subconsciously assuming that a ninja escorting a merchant caravan alone would be an easy target.

Moreover, the ninja world was just like this.

The weak are prey to the strong; only the fittest survive.

Having composed his emotions, Kagerou directed the remaining clansmen to clean up the battlefield, while Arata ignored the rest and returned directly to the caravan to begin meditating to recover his chakra.

The lands outside were indeed more chaotic than he had imagined.

Black shops, mountain bandits, and robbers—it seemed he encountered some kind of trouble every time he passed a village.

This was the first time Arata had encountered ninjas from other factions, but their strength was somewhat underwhelming; they felt barely stronger than the genin of Konoha.

The ninjutsu they used was somewhat interesting, but that was all.

Aside from the ugly man named Kagerou, none of the others possessed the decisiveness or judgment that a ninja should have.

Not to mention any semblance of tactics or cooperation.

These guys acted entirely based on the ninjutsu they practiced and their numbers; once their techniques were broken, they were nothing more than lambs for the slaughter, with no possibility of a comeback.

However, after Kagerou proposed to follow him, a stage quest was triggered:

[Stage Quest: Recruit Follower]

Quest Description: Walking the ninja world, no matter how strong an individual is, two fists cannot fight four hands. Therefore, gathering companions and working in coordination is the only way to handle various situations.

Completion Condition: Obtain the loyalty of a ninja.

Quest Reward: One ninjutsu matching the follower's chakra nature.

Quest Status: Completed.

[Random Earth Style ninjutsu drawing...]

[Obtained: Earth Style: Earth Wall]

[Earth Wall]: Create one or more earthen walls to protect yourself and your companions; it can also be used as a simple barrier to trap enemies.

Ps: (If your chakra is insufficient, don't bother carving anything fancy; it is exceptionally effective against Water Style ninjutsu.)

It is a defensive ninjutsu and does not fit perfectly into his offensive system.

"Arata, it's getting late. Why don't we rest for the night at this inn street?"

As he was deep in thought, the inquiry from the Kujo Merchant reached his ears.

At this moment, he had been thoroughly conquered by this eight-year-old young ninja. The group that had blocked their path earlier was the Fuma Clan, a veteran force stationed in the Land of Fields!

Although they had declined, they were not people to be trifled with, and they even controlled a relatively bustling inn street.

Yet, a force like this had been easily crushed by the boy before him.

He had already begun to feel that the commission he paid was too low.

Of course, if he had hired a standard Chunin squad, whether the other party would have come out to rob them in the first place was another matter entirely.

"Fine."

Arata Uchiha responded softly.

He had no opinions or requirements regarding food, lodging, or travel; everything would proceed according to the Kujo Merchant Group's plans.

As they stepped into the inn street, the surrounding atmosphere changed abruptly. Pedestrians wandering the street stopped in their tracks, casting malicious glares as if they had spotted a fat, slaughter-ready sheep.

But when these people, who were calculating how to strike, shifted their gaze backward, their expressions stiffened instantly. They hurried their pace and retreated from the street; some merchants even closed their doors and called it a night early.

Looking at the remnants of the Fuma Clan, was this a fat sheep they could devour? This was clearly a wolf in sheep's clothing!

The lodging they entered on the inn street had been arranged by Kagerou.

As expected, the man was the strongest among the surviving Fuma Clan members and was also fulfilling the duties of acting clan head.

"Lord Arata, may I come in?"

The ugly man standing outside the courtyard knocked gently on the door.

"Mm."

Arata Uchiha put away his swinging katana.

Even during a mission, he never forgot his daily training; every second was precious to him.

Moreover, his endless blade-swinging was about to reach the thousand-day milestone, and the Intermediate Physique Pill he would receive upon completion was something he coveted.

Kagerou, who pushed the door open, caught sight of the boy who had just ceased his training. His sharp eyes were as cold as blades, and his lean upper body had not an ounce of excess fat; the sweat dripping down had already soaked the ground.

"Apologies, I have disturbed your training."

Taken aback, Kagerou Fuma hurriedly knelt on the ground, his heart filled with even greater shock.

There was a reason for the other party's strength!

Among the ninjas who had passed through here in the past, who would ever forget to train while on a mission?

None!

They would only seek out fine food or engage in other amusing activities to relax the moment they arrived.

"Something the matter?"

Arata asked.

The sense of distance in his voice was like a mountain and sea apart.

The reason he had agreed to the other party's plea for mercy was simple:

First, he was not bloodthirsty by nature. As for those bandits and black-shop thugs with blood on their hands, they were arrogant and fragile, seeking their own deaths—who could he blame?

Second, it was naturally to complete the quest.

As for the other party's strength, Arata did not think much of it.

Because he had the mountain that was Shisui before him, his standards were truly quite high.

"Please forgive the Fuma Clan's rude behavior, Lord. We were forced by the circumstances."

Kagerou explained with his head bowed.

It turned out that the reason the Fuma Clan had fallen, and even become bandits occupying a territory, was related to the Daimyo of the Land of Fields.

That wielder of power, despite lacking the ability, had delusions of expanding his territory.

The defeat in the war led directly to the decline of this nation, and the ninja clans that followed the army into battle never recovered. Lacking high-end combat power, the resources to cultivate strong individuals, and access to viable missions, they were forced to become roving bandits just to survive.

"Hmm, is there anything else?"

Arata nodded slightly, signaling his understanding.

He had no great interest in the developmental history of other ninja clans.

What truly interested him were the few clans still remaining in the Land of Fields and what kind of special abilities they possessed.

"Also, I wish to follow you, my lord. Please grant me your permission."

Kagerou Fuma raised his gaze, his eyes filled with unyielding determination.