New Martial Skill, Mercy Blade!

When Guy opened his eyes again, he saw the ceiling of a tent.

Gray canvas, a crossbeam in the middle, and an oil lamp hanging from it, its flame flickering back and forth.

He stared at the crossbeam for a few seconds.

"Gurgle~!"

His stomach growled.

Hungry.

"How many days have I been unconscious?"

He propped himself up with his arms, a dull pain shooting through his right leg.

He looked down to see his lower leg wrapped in bandages.

Wrapped from ankle to knee, it was splinted with two wooden boards, held firmly in place by strips of cloth.

He wiggled his toes.

Although it hurt, he could still move them.

"A comminuted fracture, and it's already recovered this much?"

Guy was pleasantly surprised.

"Is this the recovery effect of the Yijin Jing? Or did a medical ninja treat me?"

He moved his shoulders, and his bones made a "crack-crack" sound.

His joints were flexible, with no serious injuries.

At that moment, the tent flap was lifted.

Ebisu walked in carrying a tray stacked with three steaming bowls.

He looked down at the tray, muttering, "That idiot, he's been unconscious for so long, who knows when he'll wake up..."

"Who are you calling an idiot?"

Ebisu's footsteps faltered.

He looked up and saw Guy sitting on the bed.

"You're awake!"

Ebisu rushed over and set the tray down on the bedside table.

"When did you wake up? How do you feel? Does your leg still hurt?"

Guy didn't answer; he reached out and pulled the tray toward him.

Three bowls.

A bowl of rice, piled high.

A bowl of miso soup.

A bowl of stew with radishes, potatoes, and a few pieces of meat.

He unceremoniously grabbed the rice bowl and shoveled a huge mouthful in.

"That hits the spot~"

Guy looked satisfied.

Ebisu sat on the nearby cot, watching him eat.

"I... gulp... how many days was I out?" Guy asked, his mouth full.

"You were unconscious for two days and two nights. Doctor Tanaka from the Medical Corps treated you and said your right leg had a comminuted fracture; you'd need to stay in bed for at least half a month."

Guy chewed his rice. "What about the captain?"

"The captain is doing just fine."

Ebisu pursed his lips.

"That pill you gave him—the day after he took it, he was acting like nothing ever happened."

"Doctor Tanaka said she'd never seen anyone take two Akimichi Secret Medicine pills and still be jumping around."

Guy grinned and continued shoveling rice into his mouth.

"What about you?" Ebisu stared at him. "How do you feel?"

"I'm great."

Guy set down the empty bowl, picked up the bowl of stew, and shoveled it directly into his mouth.

Ebisu watched him eat and swallowed hard.

"A comminuted fracture of the right leg, and you're already sitting up? You're a monster!"

Guy finished the stew and downed the miso soup in one gulp.

He stacked three bowls on the table and patted his stomach.

"Any more?"

Ebisu stood up and took the bowls.

"Wait here, I'll go get you some more."

He walked to the door and looked back.

"Your recovery speed is monstrous, isn't it?"

Guy gave a thumbs up.

"The power of youth."

Ebisu rolled his eyes and lifted the curtain to leave.

Guy leaned back against the bed and looked down at his right leg.

A comminuted fracture, yet he could sit up in just two days.

Although he had received treatment from medical ninjas.

According to Ebisu's description, the greater reason was the effect of the Yijin Jing.

The restorative ability of the Yijin Jing for bodily injuries was stronger than he had imagined.

At this rate, I should be fully recovered in a few days, right?

Guy grinned.

"Good thing I didn't take that Lesser Restoration Pill."

Something like a Lesser Restoration Pill on the battlefield.

One pill is one life.

This stuff is extremely precious.

He had a feeling that if he could recover on his own, there was no need to waste one.

The facts proved him right.

Before long, Ebisu returned with a tray, four bowls stacked on top.

"The uncle in the kitchen heard you were awake and gave an extra bowl."

Guy took it and started eating.

Ebisu sat to the side and watched.

Not long after he had entered, footsteps sounded outside the tent again.

The curtain was lifted, and Genma walked in, a toothpick dangling from his mouth.

Seeing Guy sitting on the bed, he nodded.

"Awake."

Behind him, Choza stooped to enter the tent.

He was too tall; he had to duck every time he came in.

"Awake?" Choza walked over.

Guy nodded.

"Captain."

Choza looked him up and down, his gaze lingering on the bandages on his right leg.

"How do you feel?"

"Hungry."

Choza laughed and looked back at Ebisu.

Ebisu's mouth twitched, but he stood up immediately.

"I'll go get more!"

Choza sat down by the bed, the cot creaking in protest.

"Guy, during the two days you were unconscious, I submitted the report on your performance that night."

Guy was stunned.

"Nine genin, three chunin—you three killed them all."

He paused.

"Mostly you."

Guy scratched his head.

Choza didn't stop, continuing, "Of course, regarding that last jonin, even though you were the one who killed him, I reported it as an assisted kill."

After finishing, Choza stared at Guy.

Might Guy grinned, "Thanks, Captain."

Hearing this, Choza breathed a sigh of relief.

When it came down to it, Iwami Shigezo.

Could be said to have been killed by Might Guy.

But it was indeed their squad that had killed him together.

Yet, for a child not even nine years old to kill an Iwagakure Jonin?

If that got out, it wouldn't be a good thing!

Especially now, during a time of war.

If this news spread, Might Guy would absolutely become a primary assassination target for Iwagakure, and even other villages.

They absolutely could not let Might Guy grow up!

But if it were framed as an assisted kill, everyone would only think that he, Choza, had done the heavy lifting to gild these children, and wouldn't think too much of it.

Although Choza's move might seem suspicious of stealing credit.

It was, in reality, more about protecting Might Guy.

Choza nodded, "It's best that you understand. Regardless, this achievement is the first of its kind on the entire Kikyo Mountain front."

"When I submitted the report, the logistics department read it three times, asking me if I had written it wrong."

He then looked at Might Guy, his tone shifting.

"By the way, in a few days, you'll be promoted to Chunin."

Might Guy was stunned, "Chunin?"

"Correct." Choza nodded, "A Chunin under nine years old; in Konoha's history, besides Kakashi, you are the second."

Ebisu walked in carrying a tray, lifting the curtain just in time to hear this.

"What? Chunin?!"

Ebisu leaned in: "You're getting promoted to Chunin?!"

Might Guy took the tray from him.

Might Guy chewed his food and gave a hum of acknowledgment.

Ebisu turned to look at Choza, and Choza nodded.

"The report has already been submitted, just waiting for the Third's approval."

Ebisu turned back to look at Might Guy, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"You're a freak."

Might Guy laughed: "Fine, fine, I'm a freak."

Ebisu sat down, pouting, and watched Might Guy eat.

After a while, he couldn't help but speak up.

"Hmph, it won't be long before I get promoted to Chunin too."

Might Guy looked up at him and nodded.

"Yeah, you definitely will."

Ebisu was taken aback and turned his head away.

"Hmph, obviously."

Genma leaned against the tent pole, chewing on a toothpick, the corner of his mouth curling up.

Choza stood up.

"Alright, get some good rest. Don't move around these next few days; we'll handle the missions. The Medical Corps said your leg needs at least twenty days to heal."

Might Guy knew clearly that it wouldn't take nearly that long, but he still nodded.

"Understood."

Choza turned to walk out, then looked back at the entrance.

"Might Guy."

"Yeah?"

"That night, thanks."

Before Might Guy could answer, he ducked out.

Ebisu and Genma exchanged a glance and also stood up.

"Get some rest."

Genma nodded and followed him out.

Only Might Guy remained in the tent.

He leaned back against the bed, closed his eyes, and opened the system panel.

[Congratulations to the host: Mid-grade Ultimate Art · Precept-Breaking Blade has reached the Perfection realm]

[Obtained: Random Martial Art Gift Pack]

[Open now?]

This was the system notification from that night.

The Precept-Breaking Blade was already perfected, but there was one gift pack left unopened.

"Open the martial art gift pack."

Golden light exploded.

A secret manual manifested in his consciousness.

Three characters were inscribed on the cover with sharp, piercing strokes.

[Mercy Blade]

[Mid-grade Ultimate Art]

[One of the Shaolin Seventy-Two Arts. This blade technique is named for mercy; it is not for taking lives, but for salvation. To strike is to sheathe; to kill is to save.]

[Cultivation Method: Meditate with a blade daily to comprehend the meaning of "mercy." Each time an evildoer is redeemed, proficiency increases significantly.]

Guy finished reading the description and fell silent for a few seconds.

"On the battlefield, you give me the Mercy Blade??"

His teeth suddenly ached.

However, he understood that the Mercy Blade did not truly require him to be merciful.

To kill is to save.

The description stated it clearly.

Precept-Breaking Blade: break the precepts. Kill, drink, violate the monastic codes.

Mercy Blade: mercy. Redeem, save, a heart of compassion.

One breaks, one shows mercy.

One is offensive, one is defensive.

They actually complemented each other perfectly.

He closed the panel and opened his eyes.

The tent ceiling was still the same, and the oil lamp was still the same.

But after perfecting the Precept-Breaking Blade, he no longer had a reliable weapon.

His broadsword had shattered into dozens of iron shards, scattered in the rainy night.

Originally, the ultimate strike of the perfected Precept-Breaking Blade had become one of his trump cards.

He needed a blade.

Now that he had the Mercy Blade, he needed a blade even more to practice.

Guy looked down at his empty hands.

"I need to find a new blade."

But he wasn't worried.

On the battlefield.

There was never a shortage of ninja blades.