The Sound of Death
After Shikamaru made some rough arrangements, Shirō and the others returned to camp to rest, preparing for the next day's operation. The battles today had left them drained.
Before returning, they also went to retrieve the supplies from the traps Shirō had set earlier. It took considerable time to dismantle the intricate mechanisms he had laid down with such care.
Back at camp, as usual, Gray Snake was sent out to scout while the others rested. But even while resting, no one was idle. They went over the day's battle in their minds, reflecting on their shortcomings and how to improve.
Shirō knew his greatest flaw—his improvisational style. His plans often relied too much on spur-of-the-moment inspiration without fully accounting for the battlefield's reality. This wasn't something that could be corrected by reading strategy manuals; true tactical sense required instinct and talent. Since he lacked that, Shirō resolved instead to continue strengthening himself—because sheer power could overwhelm strategy.
Still, reflection was valuable. He realized two pressing issues: first, his Projection Magecraft was still clumsy when altering Noble Phantasms. Second, his limited chakra reserves remained a critical weakness. No matter how refined his magecraft, without chakra to sustain it, his options would run dry in prolonged battles.
Yet solving that problem was dangerous. Konoha was under the constant watch of the Third Hokage, and beyond lurked threats like Black Zetsu. Any strange anomaly would draw unwanted attention. The safest course was to wait until his Magic Workshop was complete before attempting riskier solutions. Until then, he could only focus on reducing Projection's chakra consumption.
On the other side, Tai Yi reflected on his own growth. He had gained the most from today's fighting—intense combat had sharpened his mastery over the Sharingan. Still, he needed time to adapt further, and he recognized the importance of broadening his arsenal. His Lightning Release and taijutsu were powerful, but overly direct. What he lacked was large-scale offense.
Thus, he resolved to develop Fire Release—an affinity inherited from his clan, the Uchiha. The Sharingan's synergy with Fire Release techniques was legendary, and fire could provide the devastating area-of-effect ninjutsu he was missing. With the Uchiha heritage behind him, Tai Yi was confident he'd find proper guidance.
Nakamura, already at the level of an elite jōnin, had less to gain. At his stage, breakthroughs were rare. Similarly, Shikamaru's growth was modest, though for different reasons—he was a strategist, not a frontline fighter. His value lay in foresight and planning, not raw combat power.
That evening, they gathered to review the intelligence sent back by Gray Snake. This time, their mission was no longer a direct strike against Takigakure but rather containment. To locate their true target, they could not avoid passing through Waterfall's sphere of influence. With Takigakure's superior numbers, a head-on fight was suicide.
Thus, Shikamaru's plan was simple: Nakamura, Tai Yi, and himself would hold off the Taki-nin while Shirō infiltrated. Shirō was best suited, since his magecraft allowed him to mask his chakra from Kagura's Mind's Eye—a sensory technique unique to certain clans of Takigakure.
By now, Takigakure's forces likely knew of their existence. They didn't know specifics, but rumors of a mysterious squad operating in the area must have spread. That was precisely why the Third Hokage had chosen their team—unknown names drew less suspicion. But anonymity wouldn't last forever.
The next morning, Shirō cloaked himself in a Projected Invisibility Cloth and split from the group, heading toward the most likely hiding spot calculated by Shikamaru. Moving carefully to conceal his presence, he soon spotted a Taki patrol sweeping the area.
Pausing, Shirō considered his options. Leaving them unchecked risked exposure. Deciding swiftly, he prepared to eliminate them—but not as himself.
A shimmer of chakra-light covered him as he donned black armor, a skull mask, and hefted a massive greatsword. At his waist, a small bell jingled softly.
Today, Shirō would borrow the mantle of the Old Man of the Mountain—King Hassan, the First Hassan-i-Sabbah.
The blade he carried was Azrael.
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Azrael
Rank: C
Type: Anti-Unit Noble Phantasm
Range: 1
Maximum Target: 1
A plain, unadorned sword, made divine not by its form but by the wielder's unyielding faith. Through ceaseless study of death, the blade gained the ability to impose mortality itself upon the living. Each strike carried a chance—however small—of instant death.
But Shirō knew the truth. The sword's lethality came not from its inherent power, but from King Hassan himself. With his vast skills, he turned every attack into certain death. For Shirō, who lacked those skills, Azrael's probability of instant death was unreliable. Still, even at C-rank, the Noble Phantasm's form and the instincts embedded within Projection made it deadly enough.
If he was going to impersonate King Hassan, he would do it properly.
The bell at his waist rang.
Ding—dong.
The first Taki-nin stiffened. A shadow flashed past. A whisper reached his ears—
"Do you hear it… the sound of the evening bell?"
Before he could respond, his head fell.
"Enemy attack—!"
The second blocked desperately, kunai against greatsword, but Shirō's body surged with reinforcement magecraft. His blade cleaved through steel and flesh alike.
"That bell tolls the end of your destiny."
Another fell, blood soaking the ground.
The last ninja turned in terror, only to be cut down mid-step.
"Listen well… let this sound liberate your soul…"
The body dropped before he finished his line.
"…Oi. At least let me finish my monologue," Shirō muttered in irritation, shaking Azrael clean of blood.
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