The Hero Who Grew Up: Senju Hashirama (1)

The young man picked at his ear, watching the old man's eyelids flutter as if struggling to stay open. His voice was lazy, yet it carried a bone-chilling coldness that was impossible to bear.

"Hatake Ryunosuke, reporting for duty!"

The old man had barely begun to question him when the youth struck without warning. A silver light, sharp as a crescent moon, flew from the blade in his hand, slashing directly toward the elder. Though aged, the village chief dodged with a speed that defied his years, his hands weaving seals before he spat out a whirlwind.

"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"

The white-haired youth held his blade horizontally against his chest, tanking the wind technique head-on. He then vanished, leaving only a fading afterimage behind. The old man broke into a cold sweat and spun around, but he was a step too slow. The youth's expression remained as blank as ever, yet his blade was now stained with a vibrant, demonic red liquid.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl in the old man's eyes. He watched the crimson fluid spray before him, then slowly lowered his head. He saw his own fingers still twitching on the ground, while his wrists gushed blood like open faucets. Before the stinging pain could even register, he felt a chill at his neck, and his head began to roll backward, tumbling into the air.

"What a nuisance."

As the youth killed the old man, he curled his lip as if complaining. No sooner had the words left his mouth than Tamaza Ryojin appeared behind him, dressed in full military regalia.

"The Wind-Thunder Clan has never offended you. Why would you lay such a ruthless hand upon us?"

"Explanations are such a hassle. Just die already!"

The youth called Ryunosuke scratched his head, seemingly troubled by some deep dilemma. As his muttering ceased, his body vanished from the spot once more.

"Wind Style: Whirlwind Fist!"

Seeing the afterimage, Tamaza Ryojin remained calm, dashing forward to vacate his position just as a silver blade-light swept through the space he had occupied. Ryojin's hands blurred through seals, his fist gathering gray wind as he spun to collide with the sword energy.

Ryunosuke did not pause after his attack was blocked. He stepped forward, crouching low to gather momentum, his eyes locked on Ryojin like a wolf.

Seeing the stance, Ryojin didn't hesitate, his legs acting like springs as he vaulted into the air. The moment he leaped, Ryunosuke drew his blade in one fluid motion, unleashing a crescent-shaped light that sliced every house behind Ryojin in two. Watching the buildings slowly collapse into ruins, Ryunosuke curled his lip again and retreated rapidly.

"Wind Style: Thousand-Faced Wind!"

Countless wind blades materialized in the sky around Ryojin, then descended like a volley of ten thousand arrows, blanketing the ground in a carpet of destruction. Ryojin darted and weaved across the earth like a small boat in a tempest, on the verge of being shattered by the sudden, violent waves. But it lasted only four or five seconds; the wind blades lost their chakra supply and vanished into the sky, and with them, so did Ryojin.

"Perfect timing."

The youth sheathed his long blade, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. As he turned to walk deeper into the village, a pack of white wolves surged in, howling as they launched an indiscriminate assault on the villagers.

The wind-attribute chakra gathered in Ryojin's mouth had not been released, and it was this that saved him; the moment he was reverse-summoned, he wasn't devoured by the countless venomous snakes. His brain instantly repurposed the wind technique, spitting it out to form a membrane that encased him, buying him a fleeting moment of respite.

Ah... ah... ah...

Countless screams reached Ryojin's ears. Looking out, he saw the elites of the Wind-Thunder Clan appearing in his field of vision. The clan elites he had once been so proud of were now in a wretched state, bitten and coiled by countless vipers. Within a mere instant, they were swallowed by the sea of snakes and fell silent forever.

"Why!"

Snakes! These were the creatures he was most familiar with, the very foundation of his summoning heritage. Now, they had become a death warrant, wiping out every elite of the Wind-Thunder Clan in a single night.

"Wind Style: Thousand-Faced Wind!"

Enraged, Ryojin's eyes turned bloodshot. His hands moved in a blur, and wind blades appeared in his palms, hacking the vipers lunging at him into pieces. Unfortunately, the speed of his ninjutsu could not keep pace with the snakes, and Ryojin leaped into the air, desperate to escape the sea of serpents.

"Dragon Roar!"

A white light forced Ryojin back into the snake pit. He unleashed a wind technique to blast the snakes aside, carving out a tiny patch of land to stand on. He glared toward the source of the attack, and just then, the sea of snakes was torn open by a surge of chakra. In the center of the path, Mingye appeared in Ryojin's sight.

"Why!"

This second roar was not born of the confusion of the first, nor was it anger at Mingye's actions; it was a challenge to the so-called White Snake Sage. When Mingye had come to him to sign the scroll, he had felt a vague sense of unease, but he hadn't known why. Now, Ryojin finally understood: the White Snake Sage had abandoned his entire clan, choosing Mingye as the sole successor.

"The world is fickle. Perhaps the Old Lady was happy enough to spare you one second, but decided to kill you the next. Young Mingye is already our representative in Ryuchi Cave. One representative is enough, so you must die. Don't ask why. You should know better than anyone, young Ryojin—the meaning of 'survival of the fittest' isn't about who has the most talent or ability, but about who we decide gets to survive. I told you that thirty years ago when you first received the scroll!"

Mingye's neck rippled, and Ara emerged, staring coldly at Ryojin. Hearing Ara's words, Ryojin trembled. The people left in the clan were those without ninja abilities; the Hatake Clan existed specifically to slaughter them once the elites who had signed the blood pact were reverse-summoned. Thinking of this, Ryojin's gaze toward Mingye turned filled with hatred. He had to return to the clan, even if it meant certain death. He had to go back because he was their trusted patriarch, the towering tree that sheltered them from the storm.

"I'll kill you right here!"

Roaring at Mingye, his body erupted with pale blue chakra. Ryojin decided to trade his life for Mingye's, shattering his own chakra pathways and unleashing a forbidden technique that cost him his lifespan to launch a surprise attack.

The vipers, deterred by the blue chakra, failed to strike Ryojin immediately, allowing him to carve a path straight to Mingye.

A wall of air appeared before Mingye, stalling Ryojin's attack. Mingye seized the chance to backflip, hovering above the sea of snakes. The vipers beneath his feet tried to bite him but couldn't penetrate the air wall. With a face full of guilt, Mingye sighed and spoke.

"I'm sorry! I have to kill you! I'm truly sorry!"

"Die!"

Under the pressure of the wind blades, Mingye looked like a thin sheet of paper, fluttering in the gale, yet he remained untouched. He drifted across the surface of the black sea of snakes, dodging Ryojin's attacks without ever striking back. Ryojin seemed to realize Mingye's intent and sneered in disdain.

"You think you can wear me down like this? Don't even dream of it!"

Mingye shook his head, his face expressionless, and offered a faint smile in response.

"I never thought I could grind you down like that. All I wanted was to make you angrier, until you lost your composure as a ninja!"

"...!"

Ryojin's attack faltered at Mingye's words, and then a violent surge of chakra exploded from his body. Mingye immediately retreated, having anticipated the rage, and moved thirty meters away before speaking again.

"Hatake ninjas have never possessed emotions. Tell me, do you think I'm right or wrong?"

"Mingye!"

The enraged Ryojin knew what Mingye was trying to do. A ninja is human; moving from stillness to action is easy, but moving from action to stillness is incredibly difficult. The way of the snake is to remain still until the moment of the strike. That was what Mingye was doing now. If Ryojin lost his focus for even a second, Mingye would launch a fatal attack—not with raw power, but by using the endless venomous snakes beneath his feet to poison him.

Moreover, he couldn't afford to waste time with Mingye. As Mingye had said, his clan was struggling. The Hatake blade was never one of mercy; once drawn, it had to be stained with blood. Regardless of age or gender, everyone would be wiped out. That was the hallmark of the Hatake Clan, and the reason they were so feared.

Mingye listened calmly to Ryojin's roar, knowing how much the man wanted to tear him apart, but also knowing how dangerous a direct confrontation would be. He would not stand on a crumbling wall. Mingye's goal was clear: he just needed a little more time to drive the man into a total frenzy, to make him abandon his life just to kill him.

"I can't beat you in a fair fight, I admit that. You have the power to kill me, but that takes time. But right now, with your clan having lost the protection of their elite ninjas, how do you think they can stand against the Hatake blade that the entire ninja world fears?"