Kūga stepped outside the village of samurai, feeling the bite of the cold Iron Country wind trying to press against his barrier.
Snow flurried down, blanketing the rugged terrain, though, in the distance, the setting sun cast its warm, muted glow through the icy mist, illuminating the snowy peaks like distant, slumbering giants.
He carefully unsheathed his new blade, Infinite Severer, taking in its incredible craftsmanship under the soft, waning light.
The polished silver of the blade shimmered subtly, radiating a faint, golden aura—an effect of the aether infused throughout the metal. The tempered silver-white edge gleamed sharply, as if it were a part of the very fabric of space-time, awaiting a single motion to cleave through reality itself.
He ran his fingers along the blade's surface, feeling the seamless flow of energy, an echo of the five days spent pouring his own essence into its creation. "You look beautiful…" he murmured to the sword, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
In that quiet moment, he felt a bond between himself and the weapon—a blade that was not just an instrument of war, but an extension of his spirit.
Kūga's grip tightened around the hilt, its aether-conductive wrappings warm to his touch, resonating with his energy. 'Let's put a little aether to see how strong you are'
Slowly, he raised the blade high above his head, focusing his aether into the metal until the air around him hummed with latent power.
*Swish*
With a slow, deliberate downward motion, Kūga swung the Infinite Severer in a wide arc, the blade slicing effortlessly through the air.
For a heartbeat, nothing seemed to happen; then, a shockwave pulsed from the edge, invisible yet profoundly real, cleaving everything in its path.
*SWIHDIBMFWBOOBSMBFUCKDMBMBMB!!*
The ground split open before him, trees splintered into fragments, boulders shattered, and an entire line of mountains in the far distance groaned under the strain before succumbing to the force. They split, their peaks collapsing in cascading avalanches that sent plumes of snow and debris into the air.
The sheer power was astonishing... nothing stood in the path of that swing.
Kūga whistled softly, nodding as he sheathed the blade, his gaze lingering on the distant destruction. He exhaled, silently grateful that no settlements lay in that direction.
This was a weapon to be respected, and Kūga could see why Master Genji had named it Infinite Severer.
Even in a test, its reach felt boundless.
Content, he vanished from the spot, materializing instantly back at the encampment in the Land of Hot Springs. His sudden arrival startled several shinobi and kunoichi, their heads snapping up at the sight of their leader.
The camp was busy with activity: shinobi skinning freshly hunted game, stirring pots over crackling fires, and chatting as they hammered together temporary treehouses. It resembled a small village now, a lively settlement that had grown quickly to house the hundreds under his command.
As Kūga approached, a small group of shinobi noticed him and quickly organized themselves. Ten of them, led by a tall, scarred man, walked over to greet him.
Kūga nodded and spoke, his voice calm but commanding. "Let's move to a nearby tent." The group nodded in acknowledgment and led him to a large, reinforced tent in the center of the camp, its flaps fluttering in the wind.
Once inside, Kūga turned to them, breaking the silence. "So, did anything happen while I was gone?" he asked, his tone direct.
The tall, scarred man stepped forward. "Nothing of concern, Kūga-sama," he replied, his voice steady. "But the lack of any action has caused some unrest among the men." The others nodded, clearly sharing his unease.
One kunoichi, with a focused and serious expression, added, "I assigned a couple of teams to scout near the river's bridge and beyond. We've seen no signs of enemy shinobi, no unusual movements."
A murmur of agreement passed through the group, each expressing their concerns, until Kūga raised a hand, palm out, signaling them to quiet down. "Tobirama, the Second Hokage, anticipated this," he assured them, his voice calm but resolute.
"Our enemy is likely planning or probing. Stay vigilant, and continue familiarizing yourselves with the area—especially the locations most suited to ambushes or defensive positioning."
The group exchanged glances, nodding as the sense of purpose returned to their faces. With a respectful bow, they left the tent, leaving Kūga alone. He exhaled and glanced around the camp, noting the logistical setup and the flow of resources. If the enemy were to poison their food supplies or target local wildlife, they would need a secure way to preserve their provisions.
Moving decisively, he walked over to the camp's water station and raised his hands, summoning aether. With a small gesture, two massive metal boxes appeared beside the water station, each equipped with heavy double doors.
He infused one box with cold aether, creating a frost-laden chamber for keeping perishables chilled. The second box was even colder, designed to freeze and store food over a longer period. He then addressed the nearby shinobi, who had stopped to observe his work with wide eyes. "From now on, you'll store hunted game and provisions here," he explained, patting the metal boxes, which he dubbed the "Ice Storage."
"Be mindful of any attempts by the enemy to poison local animals. We need a reliable food supply."
One of the shinobi nodded with a look of quiet respect. "Understood, Kūga-sama. We'll make sure to ration and use these supplies wisely." With a grin, Kūga shrugged. "Or leave it open if you want an ice shower. Up to you."
The shinobi chuckled, easing the tension just a bit before they nodded and got back to work, adding this new measure of security to their preparation. As he watched his forces fall into their routines, Kūga felt a sense of satisfaction.
.
Two days later, Kūga found himself crouched low behind a thick wall of bushes and trees with fifty of his shinobi at his back, all concealed in the dense foliage near a lonely bridge that spanned the border between the Land of Hot Springs and the Land of Frost
Silence reigned, broken only by the occasional soft rustle as someone shifted their weight, the tension palpable as they watched the scene ahead. A fragile-looking old woman was inching her way across the bridge, each step hesitant, as though the height or expanse had filled her with fear.
One of the shinobi at Kūga's side murmured, "I'm going to help her, Kūga-sama, so she doesn't get caught in the crossfire." The young shinobi began to rise, but before he could fully stand, Kūga placed a hand on his shoulder, silently shaking his head.
"Take a closer look at that 'old lady,'" Kūga whispered, his voice calm but firm. "Focus, and use your chakra to enhance your vision."
The shinobi furrowed his brow, doing as he was told. As the chakra pooled into his eyes, he squinted, observing the elderly woman more closely. His eyes widened in realization, his expression shifting from compassion to alarm. "Hold on… soft hands? And… there's no loose skin on her arms," he muttered, then looked at Kūga, meeting his knowing gaze.
Kūga gave him a nod, his face set with a slight, almost amused smile. "It would've been fatal had you approached. Never be too quick to trust what you see, even civilians can be used as bait."
The shinobi swallowed hard, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. He nodded, gratitude mixed with relief.
Kūga's hand rose, giving a silent signal to the other shinobi behind him—eighty enemies; I'll go first. When I cast a large scale jutsu, engage. The men around him nodded, each one gripping their weapons tighter, their eyes narrowed as they focused on the bridge ahead, each fully aware that death waited on the other side.
In a blink, Kūga was gone, vanishing from his position and reappearing casually near the bridge. He walked slowly toward the elderly woman, his gait relaxed, his expression soft as though he'd fallen for the ruse.
He stopped in front of her, his hand outstretched as if offering aid. But just as his fingers reached her arm, the "old lady" smirked, dropping her frail act. She drew a kunai and thrust it toward his neck with lightning speed, her eyes glinting with malice.
The blade froze a mere centimeter from his skin, as if repelled by an invisible force. Her shock was palpable, her mouth slightly agape as she struggled against whatever shield held her weapon at bay. Kūga only smiled, his eyes narrowing with a playful glint as he drew his sword faster than her eyes could track, the polished blade flashing through the air in one swift motion.
The kunoichi's throat opened with the stroke, her true form revealed in her final moments—a Kumo operative, disguised in elderly clothes, now slumping to the bridge with a dull thud. Kūga didn't put any aether on the sword as to draw the Kumo shinobis out.
As her body lay still, Kumo shinobi began to emerge from their hiding places, stepping forward from behind trees and rocks, weapons at the ready. They formed a solid line on the opposite end of the bridge, adopting a unified battle stance, anger and determination in their eyes.
Kūga scanned the row of Kumo shinobi, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Eighty shinobi… hmm, not bad," he murmured, his tone almost casual, like a teacher inspecting his students' work.
One of the Kumo shinobi, a tall man with dark skin and a fierce expression, sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Konoha scum," he spat, gripping his blade tightly, "you're going to die today!"
Several Kumo shinobi leaped forward, weapons aimed at Kūga, fury blazing in their eyes. Kūga's gaze never wavered. He lifted his sword, flicking off the last trace of blood from the earlier strike, and spoke in a low voice, almost a murmur. "Aether: Void Pulse."
He extended his free hand toward the charging enemies, and a deep, resonant hum emanated from his palm, the air vibrating as the technique took effect. The atmosphere around him seemed to fold, bending inward, as if reality itself were bowing under the force of his will.
A ripple of dark energy expanded from his hand, creating a surge that pulsed outward in a wave of crushing force. The bridge buckled under the pressure, planks splintering as the wave swept across, crashing into the advancing shinobi.
The Kumo shinobi at the front barely had time to scream as the wave enveloped them, the Void Pulse tearing through their bodies with brutal precision. Skin, bone, and metal alike dissolved under the sheer density of the aetheric energy, their forms disintegrating into nothingness in an instant. The shockwave passed through the ranks, cutting down the Kumo forces like leaves caught in a violent storm. Forty shinobi crumpled to the ground, their bodies torn asunder by the intensity of the attack, leaving only silence and a dark smear across the landscape.
At that moment, the Konoha shinobi behind Kūga saw their cue. Emerging from the undergrowth, they charged forward, weapons raised, battle cries ripping through the cold air as they collided with the remaining Kumo shinobi. Swords clashed, kunai sparked against kunai, and bursts of chakra-fueled jutsu illuminated the darkening sky.
A young Konoha kunoichi darted through the ranks, her agility unmatched, dodging and weaving between Kumo shinobi, delivering precise strikes to joints and pressure points. She landed a blow against one Kumo shinobi's neck, twisting her body to slam her heel against his ribs, sending him sprawling into the dirt.
Another Konoha shinobi, a large, burly man, wielded a massive broadsword, sweeping it in wide arcs as he cut down his opponents with raw, unbridled force, each swing leaving crimson trails in its wake.
Amidst the chaos, Kūga remained a figure of calm amidst the storm. One by one, Kumo shinobi broke away from the main skirmish to face him, each one falling under the flash of his blade. One kunoichi managed to leap from behind, swinging her scythe with deadly precision.
Kūga's ethereal eyes caught the movement, and he twisted effortlessly, the Infinite Severer humming as he parried her weapon and retaliated with a swift, calculated slice. The kunoichi fell, a stunned expression on her face as she crumpled to the ground.
A Kumo shinobi unleashed a stream of fire toward him, his hands forming seals rapidly as the blaze surged across the bridge. Kūga raised his hand, summoning a shield of aether that absorbed the flames, turning them to wisps of harmless smoke. In a single fluid motion, he lunged forward, his sword cleaving through the Kumo shinobi's chest, ending the attack as swiftly as it had begun.
The Konoha shinobi continued their assault, each one pushing harder as they whittled down the remaining Kumo forces. Another team of Kumo shinobi attempted to circle around and flank Kūga's group, their movement swift but not unnoticed.
A Konoha tracker picked up their movements and intercepted them, coordinating a counterattack with precise taijutsu maneuvers and coordinated ninjutsu strikes, effectively eliminating the ambush.
After several minutes of intense combat, the bridge was littered with fallen shinobi, the once-peaceful structure now a grim scene of battle. Blood seeped into the wooden planks, pooling under the bodies of the fallen as the last few Kumo shinobi lay defeated. Silence descended once more, broken only by the labored breaths of the Konoha forces, who stood amongst the wreckage of the skirmish.
Kūga sheathed the Infinite Severer, his expression calm, almost serene, as he surveyed the aftermath. His gaze shifted to his men, nodding in acknowledgment. "Well done," he said, his voice carrying over the scene, steady and reassuring. "Now, tend to the injured and fortify the area. We can expect more of them soon."
The Konoha shinobi moved quickly, their discipline and training clear as they set about securing the battlefield, knowing that this victory, though hard-won, was only the beginning. The war was far from over, but for now, they had succeeded, and will be ready for whatever came next.
.
As Kūga and his team stepped back into the camp, an immediate stir of surprise swept through the Konoha shinobi. Those stationed at the camp rushed forward, their faces a mixture of disbelief and admiration as they counted heads, noting that every single shinobi had returned, and with only minor injuries. The worst they found was a single stomach wound, which was already fortunate.
Kūga couldn't help but grin at the amazement in their expressions.
He lifted a hand, motioning to the medics. "All medics, see to the wounded," he commanded, his voice calm and reassuring. The medics nodded, quickly dispersing to tend to those who had come back from the skirmish.
Reaching into his coat, Kūga pulled out a small, intricately inscribed sealing tag and placed it on a table nearby. "You, add a bit of chakra to this," he said, gesturing to a nearby shinobi, who quickly followed the instruction.
As the shinobi's chakra flowed into the tag, it began to glow, the kanji inscribed on it shining brightly before a flash of light illuminated the camp. When it faded, Tobirama Senju, the Second Hokage, stood before them, his striking figure immediately recognized by all. A quiet awe fell over the shinobi, some of whom couldn't resist murmuring greetings and respectful bows.
"Kūga," Tobirama's voice was steady, yet there was an undeniable warmth in his expression as he looked over the returned unit, "well done. Report."
Kūga inclined his head respectfully before launching into a recount of the battle. "The first skirmish was with eighty Kumo shinobis," he began. "They tried to ambush us on the bridge. It wasn't even a challenge, we managed to take them down with minimal injuries." He paused, smirking, a hint of pride evident. "Our forces held strong, and we took them by surprise."
Tobirama nodded approvingly, his arms crossed as he listened. "Excellent work, Kūga. And to return with so few injuries—impressive. This will boost morale here."
His gaze swept over the camp, noting the grateful and inspired expressions of the shinobi around him. "You've made a statement to the enemy, and they'll be more cautious now."
Kūga's eyes sparkled with quiet amusement as he asked, "And how are things on Hashirama and Madara's fronts? Any action there?"
Tobirama shook his head, his brow furrowing. "Not yet. Hashirama's camp has been quiet. He's taken a personal interest in guiding young Reifū, along with our student, Hiruzen Sarutobi." Tobirama's expression softened, though his usual stoicism remained. "Hashirama wants the kid to learn, and Hiruzen's been taking to it well."
Kūga chuckled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Hashirama's guiding him himself? The kid must be one of a kind, then. You'll have to introduce us one of these days."
Tobirama nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I'm sure you'll find him interesting."
Kūga nodded in satisfaction. "And Madara's camp? Any signs there?"
Tobirama's expression grew slightly more guarded. "There's nothing much from that side yet. But, true to form, Madara's been focusing on training young Kenta. I avoid it whenever I can—you know how many Uchiha fill that camp. But Madara insists on it."
Kūga let out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "I can only imagine. Kenta's in for a world of intense training with Madara. It's bound to be a show."
Tobirama let out a rare chuckle, glancing back at the shinobi around them who were all looking on with a mix of awe and surprise. He straightened, preparing to leave. "Very well. I'll report all of this to Hashirama and let him know of your success. Until then, Kūga, continue as you have. We're making progress."
Kūga nodded, bowing his head slightly. "Safe travels, Tobirama. Let Hashirama know we'll hold the line here."
With a final nod, Tobirama disappeared in a flash, leaving the camp buzzing. Shinobi exchanged looks, clearly impressed that Kūga had spoken to the Second Hokage so casually. Whispers rippled through the group, expressions of awe and admiration directed toward Kūga, who simply grinned, the faintest hint of pride glimmering in his eyes.