Blood Asura

The rain fell in a steady drizzle, blurring the horizon.

Arata stood quietly before the tombstone, not moving an inch as the rain fell freely upon him.

This was already the third day.

Not far away, Izumi stood silently holding an umbrella, waiting; she had also stayed for three days.

That night, when the crow tapped on the window and brought the Mangekyō, it had completely ignited the emotions Arata had been suppressing.

Revenge!

He wanted revenge!

He would make everyone who participated in this hunt pay the price!

They would be buried with his brother!

He pulled out a storage scroll containing items he had collected during his first mission: blood-stained armor and blood-stained weapons.

At the same time, a light blue low-level summoning charm materialized in his hand.

Fresh blood dripped onto the charm, and a low chant followed: "Demon of the other shore, follow my blood, descend to this realm, and serve my will."

"Thy name: Terracotta Warrior!"

Power.

Arata desperately needed power.

Of course, it wasn't just power; he also needed companions—companions he could trust completely, who would never betray him.

Binding with a yōkai was the best choice!

In the past, he had many concerns: he worried that the summoned yōkai would have differences in values or habits; he worried that if he didn't gain their recognition and forced them into servitude, the power gained would not only be limited but would also create a rift; he worried that having too many complex abilities would attract the attention of Root or the Anbu.

But now, Arata didn't care.

The death of Shisui was the most direct reason.

Furthermore, he was no longer someone who could be easily manipulated by just anyone!

A murky aura permeated the room, the clashing sound of weapons filled his ears, and a burly figure materialized in his field of vision. He stood like a mountain; just by standing at his side, he provided a tremendous sense of security.

"Is it thou who summoned this humble one?"

The Terracotta Warrior gazed at the little one in his sight and asked.

Having guarded a tomb for a hundred years, his voice carried a scent of decay.

"Yes. From now on, I am your new master. Dedicate all your power to me."

Arata replied.

Tear stains still lingered on his cheeks, and his face remained youthful, yet his words held an unyielding toughness.

For the sake of revenge.

He had to make himself hard!

After all, a summoning charm was different from a contract charm; the former could not directly forge a bond. After borrowing the power, the yōkai would choose whether to stay or leave, or even rebel. To forge an eternal bond, one had to earn the other's recognition.

The Terracotta Warrior.

He was originally a funerary object in a tomb, having guarded his master for a century.

But in the end, he chose to leave, wanting to give his power to someone who needed it more.

Arata relied on this point, which was why he dared to speak so boldly.

Moreover, if he couldn't even command a yōkai of this caliber, how could he ever hope to summon more powerful ones?

"For what purpose dost thou borrow this humble one's power?"

The Terracotta Warrior's stiff words were like the armor on his body: heavy and unadorned.

"For protection."

"To protect my family, to protect my companions, and to ensure my clansmen never suffer harm again."

Arata broke down his purpose.

He spoke only of the past, without mentioning the present.

Because the yōkai before him existed for the sake of protection!

The Terracotta Warrior did not speak.

His deep blue demon eyes gazed down at the boy who did not avert his gaze, sensing the firm will within him.

After a moment, he slowly crouched down until he knelt on one knee.

"Master, please use this humble one's power."

He pressed his right fist against his chest; his clanging words were heavier than any promise made between humans.

At the same time, a mark resembling a suit of armor appeared on the back of Arata's right hand. The contract was sealed!

"Then, the first command."

"Guard them well, my brother's eyes."

Arata placed Shisui's Sharingan into a corruption-proof vessel and handed it into the palm of the Terracotta Warrior.

"Understood!"

He replied as such.

The images of memory came to an abrupt halt, and Arata slowly opened his eyes.

"Brother Shisui."

He whispered softly, his voice raspy, lacking any of the lightness that should belong to a youth.

"I must go."

"Those who forced you to break your promise, I will make them pay the price!"

"Stay by my side and watch closely."

The malicious incident Arata caused in the main district of Konoha did not result in any substantive punishment.

Whether it was Uncle Yashiro suppressing it once again, or the higher-ups of Konoha knowing when to yield, after erasing Body Flicker Shisui to achieve a brief moment of peace, they did not continue to press too hard.

However, none of this was of any concern to Arata anymore.

Punishment, reprimand, ostracization—whatever they chose to inflict, he would simply endure it.

But one day, he would return it a hundredfold!

Including the share that belonged to Brother Shisui!

After resting for only a single day, Arata left the clan grounds.

When he arrived at the mission hall again, no staff member made things difficult for him this time; he could even choose C-rank missions at will.

This was undoubtedly the will of the Konoha higher-ups.

After all, having a diligent thug at their disposal—why wouldn't they take advantage of it?

One must know that both the Third Great Ninja War and the Nine-Tails Incident had cost Konoha a batch of excellent ninja. Coupled with the necessary border garrisons and confidential mission assignments, the village was running short on manpower. At such a time, low-level missions were left unattended and needed someone to complete them!

Moreover, they had to be completed with one hundred percent success.

Because, as the leader of the Five Great Ninja Villages, Konoha had to maintain the image of its own strength.

Arata's presence was thus tacitly permitted.

At the same time, it allowed all the ninja of Konoha to experience what madness truly was.

For one year and eight months, he only rested once after a mission. At all other times, he would head straight to the mission hall upon returning. Subjugation missions were his priority, followed by high-level escort missions, and lastly, intelligence gathering and garrison duty.

The only time he rested was during a mission that was originally just a B-rank escort: escorting a merchant group to the Land of Water.

But before departing, he was temporarily entrusted with an A-rank mission: to travel to Kirigakure and exchange the documents representing the reconciliation between the two powers!

Needless to say.

This was the Konoha higher-ups wanting to use the hands of other powers to kill him!

Otherwise, why not send other ninja who were more persuasive and symbolic to exchange the reconciliation documents?

One must know that the only power in recent years that would invade the borders of the Land of Fire at the drop of a hat, biting at Konoha's heels and ready to fight at any moment, was Kirigakure!

Now they suddenly spoke of reconciliation—who would believe it?

Yet Arata did not say a word, nor did he even notify his clan, heading straight there.

Because that was the power his brother Shisui had once suppressed!

He could not, and must not, lose face for his brother!

Fresh blood made the name of the Blood Mist all the more fitting, and the Body Flicker appeared once again upon that land!

In that year, the blood stained on Arata's hands was no less than that of an entire Anbu squad.

When the leading Kirigakure Jonin knelt before Arata, the remaining pursuing Kirigakure ninja were instantly seized by fear. They remembered that person who also possessed a pair of blood-red eyes and the same Body Flicker technique!

They remembered the fear of once being dominated by Body Flicker Shisui!!

Even though the youth before them was already wrapped in blood-soaked clothes, his blade broken, and his aura clearly flickering like a candle in the wind, they hesitated and dared not step forward.

In the very end, when the higher-ups forced the order for several Kirigakure squads to conduct a final encirclement, figures like mad demons suddenly flashed past Arata's side, their scarlet pupils blooming with the most savage flames of rage!

The border of Konoha, where Kirigakure stood in opposition, had always been the land guarded by the Uchiha clan for generations!

From then on, the name of Body Flicker Shisui was no longer whispered at the Kirigakure border.

Because that man was dead.

But another name had emerged: Blood Asura Arata.

They say he is Shisui's younger brother.