Arc X Chapter 13

X

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Arc X Chapter 13

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The enemy summoned his chakra. Arctic winds surrounded his figure, gathering, obeying his command. “Ice Release: Wolf Fang Avalanche Technique ...”

Several explosions disrupted his jutsu. Nee-san intervened with a barrage of fire, an array of purple beams.

Nee-san clicked her tongue, shaking her head in utmost contempt, disappointed by the enemy's meagre intellect and apparent lack of common sense.It was always the same. “Oh my, my friend, I think you misunderstand your position. Threatening my cute little Yuki-chan with your evil, evil jutsu~. What are you thinking~? You can't hurt my cute little treasure~, right~?

“...” Defiance was their answer.

The enemy leader clenched his fist in obvious frustration. Nee-san's words angered him, not much to Yuki's surprise. Nee-san was many things, but humility and modesty were certainly not among her fortes. Her formulation elicited his wrath.

Nee-san drew her steel, a blade north far from home. Purple flames coated her sword in glee.Nee-san was serious. This was the first time that Yuki witnessed Nee-san fighting in earnest. It was just like in her dreams, Nee-san, the epitome of grace and elegance, the warrior princess from legends!

The enemy smirked.”So her highness finally decided to deign us commoners with her noble presence. You underestimate us at your own peril, lass.”

“...” His provocations proved ineffective. Nee-san lifted her blade, her hand gripping the hilt, the tip facing the enemy. “Yuki, Katsuki, ... Retreat. Stay back and protect the Princess. Nee-san will take care of them. The enemy is still beyond your offensive capabilities. Engaging them would be foolish.”

Yuki agreed wholeheartedly with Nee-san's assessment. Not that such was pretty obvious beforehand without Nee-san throwing poor Yuki and Katsuki nearly into the jaws of death. Yuki didn't complain and decided to graciously overlook Nee-san's how fortunate of them to survive comment.”Understood.”

Yuki hopped back to safety across the plane with Katsuki tightly enclosed in her arms, careful not to trip again. The nefarious snow wouldn't get her this time.

The fight continued. Nee-san wielded her blade and disappeared ... Her figure vanished into thin air.

The enemy's eyes widened in shock. “Shittttttt ... Disperse! DISPERSE!!!”

The man named Nadare slid backwards. His men dispersed in an instant.

As Yuki thought, Nee-san was fast, far too fast for her untrained eyes, barely a flickering shadow. Her senses were still unable to follow her movements.

...

...

...

Frozen winds were blowing across the icy plane. A glacial smirk adorned Nee-san's face. “I missed ... How unusual ...Must be my age. I guess I am growing old.”

...

...

...

The frigid winds cleared the smoke and no ninja whatsoever was to been seen.

“Hehehehe, oh my, they are smarter than they look. Well played.” Nee-san sheathed her sword and resorted to an amused giggle.

The enemy had chosen ... to run with their tails between their legs, despite all contrary declarations of false bravado and personal honour.

As Yuki learned, both accounted for little in the world of ninja. Ultimately, even they were cowards when things were about to get sticky, little better than mercenaries. No sense of honour. No sense of duty. No loyalty beyond their village and their immediate interests. Only eyes for the gold lining up in their pockets.

Nee-san was right when she called them misguided and disposable tools, mindless puppets without conviction fighting other people's wars for personal greed and lured by coin. Mercenaries like them would be forgotten by history.

They were slaves of their own choosing and masters of none, trapped for all of eternity in their invisible cages. Such was the destiny of every ninja.

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Escape was his only choice. Doto was running, fleeing as far his legs carried him. His castle was burning. Explosions were ringing the distance. The sound of fighting, of steel clashing, permeated the castle turned into a battlefield. His men were outnumbered and outfought as the tide of battle had turned against them. It was time for him to save his skin. Retreat, regroup, fight another day.

His people had rebelled against him and his benevolent rule, him, him, the bringer of prosperity and peace, of progress and technology. The common people didn't understand. Blinded by their ignorance, his retainers and the clans had chosen to revolt against his rightful rule. The people rose up to dispose of him, to replace him with the little bitch. Even his ninja betrayed him. Nadare, Fubuki, Mizore, the dogs of war had turned their back on him the moment it suited them. Spineless cowards. Not that he expected otherwise.

Yet he wouldn't succumb. Kazaka clenched his fist. Using a secret passage, he would escape and reclaim his throne from her cold, dead hands. One day, he would restore his rule.

“Hahahaa. Ahahahahaha. Hahahahaha. Hahahahaha.” Doto descended into maddened, insane laughter of a madman deluded. The world would know the glory of Doto Kazahana once again!

His eyes spotted light at the end of the tunnel. The secret passage was about to end with liberty awaiting him. He would journey south, across the sea. He would go into hiding and bide his time. For now, the bitch and her friends had won, but the last word wasn't spoken yet. He would return ... !

A lone figure stood at the end of the tunnel. The light rendered her silhouette visible in the darkness of torches and subterranean corridors. It was the silhouette of a girl. Long lustrous black hair. A petite, slender frame. A sword guarded her waist.

Her closed eyes opened, and his blood froze in his veins. He felt unprecedented terror, fear, ... desperation. Menacing purple interlaced with a floral pattern black as the night illuminated the darkness, boring deep into his very soul. These ... These eyes ...

His legs staggered backwards, unwilling to move.

The girl giggled, amused. “Like a rat leaving the sinking ship, aren't we?”

“...”

An avatar manifested, a grim demon of death entirely armoured in the heaviest plate of a design he had never seen before. “We need to talk, Your Grace. A certain person displayed heightened interest in your timely demise. I intend to honour her wish.”

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