Lightning Release: Swift Thunder

In the secret chamber, Kou slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze fell upon the crow perched on his arm—or more accurately, the Byakugan within the crow's eye sockets, glowing with a milky white light.

He remained silent for a moment, then raised his hand to form a seal:

"Release."

Smoke exploded, and the crow's form dissipated into the air.

The pair of white eyes vanished, and the secret chamber returned to its usual dimness.

Kou stood up, stretching his somewhat stiff body.

His gaze pierced through the walls of the secret chamber, as if he could see the mist-shrouded village in the distance.

"Looks like I won't be getting a good rest tonight..."

He murmured softly, his voice tinged with a hint of helplessness and fatigue.

He walked out of the secret chamber, his footsteps light, as silent as a cat prowling at night.

Kou arrived at Karin's bedroom door. It wasn't fully closed, leaving a narrow gap.

He stood before the gap, using the faint light from the corridor to see the small figure on the bed.

Karin was curled up under the covers, her red hair spread across the pillow, her breathing steady and deep.

The corners of her mouth were slightly upturned, as if she were having a pleasant dream.

Kou watched for a moment, confirming she was indeed fast asleep, before turning to leave with a sense of relief.

Outside the cave, the night was deep.

The mist was thicker than during the day, enveloping the entire forest in a hazy chaos.

The moon was hidden by clouds, with only occasional slivers of silvery light leaking through the gaps, falling onto the damp ground like scattered silver.

Kou stood at the cave entrance, turned around, and quickly formed seals with both hands.

Runes of a sealing jutsu lit up the rock face with a faint blue glow, resealing the entrance.

On top of the sealing jutsu, he laid down an illusion, ensuring that anyone who approached would be misled into believing it was just an ordinary rock face.

Having done all this, he raised his head and looked towards the deep night sky:

"Are they coming soon..."

"This is about fifty kilometers from the Mist Village. Looks like I'll have to pick up the pace a bit."

The corners of his mouth curved upwards slightly, and a blue arc of light flashed in his dark eyes:

"Well... I suppose I'll get a little serious."

He gathered chakra in his feet, and faint sparks of lightning could be seen flickering around his calves, emitting faint crackling sounds.

The lightning was not blinding, but it carried a heart-stopping power, like a beast lying in wait.

"Lightning Style—Swift Thunder."

The moment the words left his lips, Kou's figure vanished from his spot.

There was no afterimage, no sound of wind, only an extremely faint hiss, like electricity streaking through the air.

The sound was fleeting in the night, so fast it was as if nothing had happened.

Only a shallow scorch mark on the ground, left by the lightning, proved that someone had stood there moments before.

Lightning Style, Swift Thunder.

This was one of the few jutsu Kou had developed entirely on his own, without the help of true geniuses like Kakashi, Minato, or Shisui.

He sped towards the Mist Village, a hint of nostalgia flashing in his eyes.

During the Third Great Ninja War, he had watched from afar with his Sharingan as the Third Raikage "slaughtered" tens of thousands of Stone Village ninja.

That man, enveloped in lightning, was like an invincible god of war, charging through the crowd, leaving a trail of blood and gore in his wake.

However, at that time, his mind was not filled with heroic ambition or passion like "a true man should be," but with deep fear.

His two-tomoe Sharingan had focused not on the imposing figure of the Third Raikage, but on the faces of the shattered Stone Village ninja, and on the disregard for the spurting internal organs and blood.

Those faces were young, old, contorted, twisted.

They shattered in the lightning, deformed under immense force, and displayed various expressions as death descended upon them.

The scene was so brutal, it was like hell on earth.

It was the first time Kou felt a revulsion towards the Sharingan's meticulous observational abilities.

Those eyes were too good, too good at seeing every detail with perfect clarity.

He had stared blankly at the scene back then, not even hearing his companion beside him asking about the battle situation.

He just kept watching the tragically dead Stone Village ninja in the distance, and every time he thought of them as living, breathing people with their own lives, families, and dreams, he felt a prickle of dread.

This was not out of sympathy.

After all, they were all ninjas; none of their hands were clean, and all were stained, to some degree, with the blood of the innocent.

Even if among those shattered by the Third Raikage there were children not yet ten years old... it was all the same.

Having lived in this Ninja World for over a decade, Kou had fully adapted to its rules.

He knew very well in his heart that now was not the time to indulge in misplaced sympathy.

Yet... he still couldn't help but subconsciously project himself onto those "small fries" being slaughtered with such ease.

Whenever those hideous heads were either torn apart by lightning or crushed by those dark, massive hands, his mind would involuntarily replace those faces with his own, and he would be seized by a wave of terror.

That fear did not stem from reason, but from instinct—the instinct of a mortal struggling to survive at the bottom of the food chain.

Kou had a very clear definition of his own position.

Even though he comforted himself daily with phrases like, "I am a transmigrator, I should be the protagonist of this world," or "A cheat code will come sooner or later, and even without one, I can easily take off by leveraging my knowledge of the plot," deep down in his subconscious, he still viewed himself from the perspective of a mortal.

Sensitive, insecure, prone to masking his true self, overthinking, and paralyzed by fear when faced with difficulties—these essential traits of the orphan he had been in his past life had never changed.

Kou knew that, in essence, he lacked any so-called "strongman mentality"; he was just an ordinary person who wanted to survive, whose greatest dream was to live comfortably.

That was why he felt such immense terror when witnessing the carnage on the battlefield.

Will I die too? Just like those Stone Village ninjas, forced to face an unbeatable enemy because of a mission from above, only to be easily kicked to death?

The version of himself that had once felt smug about gaining a small reputation on the battlefield was, in that instant, dragged back to reality.

At that moment, only one thought occupied his mind—run! Run as far away as possible!!