The dense fog dispersed, revealing the outskirts of Swordsmith Village.
The battle was already over.
From the bridge being lowered to the last Kirigakure guard falling, the entire process had taken less than ten minutes. Their side had paid the price of three ronin ninja suffering minor cuts to their arms.
Momochi Zabuza carried his massive Kubikiribōchō, its blade unstained by even a trace of blood. He stood at the village entrance, watching his men swiftly and expertly clear the battlefield, handle the corpses, and recover any usable ninja tools.
Everything was orderly, efficient enough to make one's heart tremble.
There was no needless shouting, no pointless charge.
Precise intelligence, clear divisions of duty, decisive execution.
This was what Naruto Uzumaki defined as "battle." It was not a chaotic slaughter, but a precise operation.
"Let's go."
Suppressing his turbulent thoughts, he stepped into this legendary village of artisans.
At the center of the village, the flames of a massive forge blazed fiercely, warping the surrounding air with heat. The ringing of Hammer striking metal had not stopped in the slightest because of the battle outside.
When Zabuza entered the forge with the Kaguya Brothers and several ronin, they were not greeted by panicked civilians.
They were greeted by more than twenty armed craftsmen.
Their weapons came in all kinds: red-hot tongs, heavy forging hammers, sharp steel awls. They stood in silence, forming a human wall with their bodies and firmly protecting the forge's core area behind them.
At their head stood a white-haired old man. His body was thin and wrinkled, but his eyes were as sharp as freshly quenched steel.
He was Ancient Iron, chief of the Artisan Clan.
"We're here to save you," Zabuza said bluntly, his voice echoing through the empty forge. "Kirigakure's rule has rotted away.