Scorch Style Pakura

A moment later, back above that same valley.

The group of Mist Village ninja now lay scattered in pools of blood, with only their captain still struggling to hold on.

"Who... who exactly are you?"

In the brief exchange just now, the abilities displayed by this man calling himself The Fool had completely shattered his understanding of reality; those bizarre powers were inconceivable by the standards of a jonin.

What kind of sacred entity was this "Fool"?

Since when did the ninja world possess someone like this?

With the opponent so intent on concealing their identity, could it be that their true self was a matter of grave consequence?

Unfortunately, the questions in this Mist ninja's heart were destined to remain unanswered. When he saw "The Fool" extend a palm toward him once more, he, having no strength left to dodge, inwardly cried out in alarm!

In an instant, an invisible force took hold of him, dragging him toward "The Fool."

Damn it, this bizarre technique again. What kind of ninjutsu is this?

Suspended in mid-air with no leverage, he watched helplessly as he drew closer and closer to "The Fool's" palm...

Snap!

"The Fool" pulled the Mist ninja in and clamped a hand directly around his throat. With a forceful squeeze, the already severely wounded man nearly rolled his eyes back and lost consciousness.

"Take a deep breath; dizziness is normal."

Hearing the mocking tone from "The Fool" and knowing there would be no good end today, the Mist ninja gritted his teeth and spat, "You... don't think you'll... get any intelligence out of me. I... I won't say a word..."

Seeing the man still putting up a front, "The Fool" behind the mask let out a scoff.

"Heh..."

"If I truly wish to know something, I don't require the other party's consent."

As he spoke, golden light surged from "The Fool's" free hand, which he then plunged directly into the body of the Mist ninja he was holding.

Under the man's gaze, the arm withdrew, pulling out a glowing orb of memory that shimmered with shifting light and shadow.

As the Mist ninja stared at the familiar scenes playing within that orb, a sense of surreal absurdity rose in his heart.

So, the orb pulled from his body actually contained his memories. Realizing that his intelligence had been compromised, his already wide eyes instantly bloodshot with shame and fury.

He had tried his best to overestimate the enemy, yet he never imagined the opponent possessed such bizarre means to extract information. Thinking of such a person harboring hostility toward the Mist Village, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread for the village's dark future as he faced his end.

Once the man had completely breathed his last, "The Fool" tossed the corpse aside like a dead fish.

Thud.

As "The Fool" snapped his fingers, some of the puppets that had been defeated and lay on the ground began to stand up again. Although almost every one of them was missing limbs, simple movement was not a problem.

These puppets began to orderly clear away the corpses of the Mist ninja, using various methods to cover the traces left by the battle.

While the puppets worked, "The Fool" busied himself examining the memory orb, searching for the intelligence he desired.

Soon, having discovered something, he gave a slight nod, his expression one of "as expected."

Back in that same valley, two figures were making their way through.

They were a man and a woman; one wore a Mist Village headband, while the other wore a Sand Village headband. Despite belonging to opposing factions, they were walking together in peace.

The female ninja wearing the Sand Village headband wore daring attire, leaving almost her entire smooth back exposed.

This person was none other than Scorch Style Pakura, a hero of the Sand Village during the Third Shinobi World War, currently on a mission to the Land of Water to negotiate peace between the Sand and Mist villages.

Yet, she could never have imagined that one of the Mist Village's conditions for peace was her own life.

Watching her walk into the ambush site, still completely unaware of the danger, the Mist ninja secretly drew a kunai and plunged it deep into Pakura's back, causing her to collapse to the ground in critical condition.

"Why... why?"

Lying on the ground, Pakura still couldn't fathom why this Mist ninja would attack her. Did the opponent not fear ruining the peace talks and reigniting war between the two nations?

Looking down at the fallen Pakura, the Mist ninja, seemingly confident of victory, told her of the sordid deal between the Sand Village high command and the Mist Village, as if to ensure she wouldn't die a confused soul.

Upon learning the truth, Pakura's eyes were filled with resentment. She had not died on the battlefield, only to perish by the betrayal of her own superiors and a sneak attack by the enemy—was this to be her end?

Unwilling to accept this, Pakura struggled to stand, attempting a desperate final resistance.

The Mist ninja, noticing her intent, had no intention of engaging in a duel. He signaled, intending to summon his hidden comrades above to join him in executing this enemy who was stained with the blood of their kin.

Following the signal, footsteps began to echo from above the valley. Soon, a group of figures in black robes appeared, all looking down at the two in the valley.

Seeing the dozen or so figures that had appeared, the already pale Pakura fell into total despair. It seemed heaven truly intended to end her today.

However, when she turned her gaze toward the Mist ninja nearby, she saw that his expression was even more panicked than her own. His eyes were wide as saucers, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

What... what was going on?

Had the plan gone awry?

Could these black-robed figures be from the Sand Village?

Was there some other conspiracy behind this peace talk?

And what about those comrades lying in ambush?

Sensing that something was amiss, the Mist Village ninja hurriedly fired off several more signals, yet he still waited in vain for his companions to appear.

"Stop calling. Your men have already been dealt with by me. Now, it's your turn to hit the road."

A voice appeared abruptly, sending a chill down the spine of the already skittish Mist Village ninja. It turned out the voice had come from behind him—or more precisely, from the air behind him.

A black-robed figure wearing a mask descended from the sky like a god, blocking the rear of the valley.

Upon landing, the masked figure ignored the Mist Village ninja, who had been stunned by his entrance, and fixed his gaze directly on Pakura, whose back was bleeding incessantly.

Pakura naturally noticed all of this. Seeing the stranger click his tongue and shake his head at her, clearly mocking the fact that someone as powerful as her had fallen into the hands of such nobodies, she felt both angry and helpless. At the same time, a glimmer of hope began to rise within her.

Given the current situation, it was clear that this person was not from the Mist Village. Was it possible, then, for her to leverage his strength to survive this crisis?

Seeing that his companions still hadn't appeared even now, the Mist Village ninja realized that the truth was likely as the stranger had said: his comrades had met a grim fate.

With enemies blocking both the front and the rear, the severity of the situation caused the ninja's heart to sink to the bottom of a well.

The enemy far surpassed him in both numbers and strength; this battle could not be won by force. Realizing this, he abandoned any thoughts of avenging his fallen comrades and decided to find a way to escape, transmit the intelligence to his leader, and let the leader make the final decision.

As he desperately searched for a way out, his peripheral vision caught sight of the heavily wounded Pakura nearby, and his eyes suddenly lit up.