Land of Iron, Northern Sector - Camp Fourteen
Okisuke dismounted his horse at the edge of what had been Camp Fourteen. The morning sun cast long shadows across the clearing, but the light did nothing to diminish the carnage that stretched before him. He had brought twelve samurai with him, and they spread out across the site with careful steps that avoided the worst of the destruction.
The ground looked like someone had taken a massive rake and dragged it through the earth. Deep gouges carved through the soil in sweeping arcs that extended for dozens of meters. Some of the furrows were deep enough that Okisuke could have laid down in them and disappeared from view. The cuts in the earth formed crescent patterns that overlapped each other in places where multiple strikes had landed close together.
Bodies lay scattered throughout the camp in various states of dismemberment. Okisuke counted pieces rather than corpses. He saw an arm here, a torso there, a head that had rolled against a tree root. The cuts were clean enough that he could see the bone cross-sections where limbs had been severed. He saw no splintering or crushing, just smooth surfaces that suggested an impossibly sharp blade had passed through flesh and bone without resistance.
Okisuke knelt beside the nearest body and examined the wound that had split the man from shoulder to hip. The cut had continued through the body and into the ground beneath, creating one of those deep gouges that marked the entire clearing. He placed his hand near the edge of the furrow and measured its depth with his fingers. The center was at least three feet deep.
He recognized the technique immediately. Chakra flow through a blade extended its cutting range and power beyond the physical limitations of steel. Every samurai in the Land of Iron trained in this fundamental skill from their earliest days. Okisuke himself could send crescents of chakra flying from his sword with each swing, cutting through targets dozens of feet away.
But this exceeded anything he had ever witnessed or heard described. The furrows stretched for thirty meters or more in single continuous arcs. The depth suggested chakra flow maintained at maximum intensity across that entire distance without weakening or dissipating. Okisuke had seen master samurai perform impressive feats with chakra flow, but even the most skilled practitioners he knew could barely manage half this range before their chakra projectiles lost coherence.
"My lord," one of his samurai called from across the clearing. The man stood near a collapsed tent with his hand raised to get Okisuke's attention. "You should see this."
Okisuke stood and walked over to where the samurai waited. The tent had been sliced in half along with the support poles that had held it upright. The fabric edges were as clean as the wounds on the bodies. The samurai pointed at a tree behind the tent. Three parallel cuts had carved through the trunk at different heights. The tree still stood, but Okisuke could see daylight through the gaps where sections of wood had been removed entirely.
"Who in the name of God can do this?" the samurai asked quietly.
Okisuke shook his head. The question was reasonable. They were looking at chakra flow techniques executed at a level that shouldn't exist. Master samurai could extend their cutting range to impressive distances, but maintaining that power across thirty meters while carving three-foot-deep furrows in solid earth required chakra reserves and control that bordered on inhuman.
His second in command, Hayato, approached from the northern edge of the camp. The older samurai had gray streaking through his hair and a scar that ran from his left eyebrow to his cheekbone. He had served under three different Mifune during his career and possessed more combat experience than anyone else in Okisuke's command.
"The perimeter guards were killed first," Hayato said. He gestured toward the northern tree line. "Six bodies are positioned at regular intervals around the camp. All of them were cut down before they could raise an alarm."
"How can you tell?"
"They show no defensive wounds. They died in their patrol positions without drawing their weapons." Hayato walked to the center of the clearing and turned in a slow circle. "The attacker entered from the north and moved through the camp in a single pass. The bodies are positioned along a clear path that leads from the entry point to the southern exit."
Okisuke followed Hayato's gaze and saw the pattern his second had identified. The bodies formed a rough line that curved through the camp like someone had walked a meandering path while cutting down everyone they encountered. The spacing between corpses suggested the attacker had moved quickly without stopping to confirm kills or engage in extended combat.
"One person did this?" Okisuke asked.
"The cut patterns are consistent throughout the site with the same depth, same angle, and same chakra signature in the residue." Hayato crouched beside one of the ground furrows and held his hand above it without touching. "These are advanced chakra flow techniques, extremely advanced. I've never seen this level of mastery outside of historical records."
Okisuke knelt beside his second and examined the furrow more carefully.
"Could this be one of our own?" Okisuke asked. "Someone from the Land of Iron?"
Hayato stood and brushed the dirt from his hands. His expression remained carefully neutral, but Okisuke detected hesitation in the way his second paused before responding.
"It's possible," Hayato said. "These are definitely samurai techniques. The chakra signature confirms that much. But the level of skill required to execute them at this scale narrows the possibilities considerably."
They spent the next two hours documenting everything they found at Camp Fourteen. Okisuke assigned teams to count the dead and record the positions where bodies had fallen. Other samurai measured the ground furrows and mapped their locations relative to the camp's original layout. Several of his men examined the residual chakra signatures in the cuts and confirmed what Hayato had already observed. The cuts showed advanced chakra flow executed with precision that exceeded current standards.
Okisuke found himself returning to the same questions. Who among the Land of Iron's samurai possessed this level of mastery? Why would they attack Kamizuru shinobi who were operating with the Daimyo's permission? What purpose did killing seventy-two people in a single night serve?
The answers eluded him. He knew every active master samurai in the Land of Iron by reputation if not by personal acquaintance. None of them could accomplish what he was seeing in this clearing. The gap between their documented abilities and what these furrows represented was too large to bridge through normal training or experience.
By midday they had finished at Camp Fourteen and mounted their horses to ride to Camp Fifteen. The second site was three kilometers to the east along a mountain trail that wound through dense forest. They reached it within an hour.
Camp Fifteen showed the same pattern of destruction. Deep crescent-shaped gouges marked the earth, bodies had been cut into pieces, and clean wounds demonstrated perfect chakra flow control. Okisuke walked through the clearing and counted twenty-three dead. The attacker had entered from the west this time, but the method remained consistent with what they had observed at the first camp.
Hayato examined the bodies with careful attention to the wound patterns. He measured cuts with a length of rope and compared angles between different strikes. Okisuke watched his second work and recognized the focused intensity that Hayato displayed when solving difficult problems.
"The timing is precise," Hayato said after completing his examination of the fifth body. "These camps were hit within hours of each other based on the blood coagulation and body temperature. The attacker moved between locations quickly enough to catch them all during the same night."
"How is that possible? These camps are kilometers apart."
"Enhanced physical abilities through chakra reinforcement would allow for rapid movement between sites." Hayato stood and walked to the western edge of the clearing where the attacker had entered. "But maintaining that level of enhancement for hours while also performing these techniques requires chakra reserves far beyond normal human capacity."
Okisuke joined his second at the edge of the clearing and looked at the tracks that led into the forest. The footprints were evenly spaced and showed no signs of fatigue or irregular gait. Whoever had walked this path had moved with consistent speed and control throughout their attack.
They finished their work at Camp Fifteen by late afternoon and rode to Camp Sixteen. The sun was setting by the time they arrived at the third site. Okisuke dismounted and surveyed the clearing in the fading light. He counted twenty-five dead this time with the same pattern, same technique, and same impossible level of skill.
His samurai set up torches around the perimeter so they could continue their investigation after dark. Okisuke walked through the camp and tried to reconstruct the attacker's movements based on the positions of the bodies and the pattern of cuts in the ground. The path curved through the clearing in a wide arc that passed through the center of where the tents had been positioned.
Hayato worked near the southern edge of the camp where the attacker had exited. He crouched beside a particularly deep furrow and examined something that Okisuke couldn't see from his current position. The older samurai remained motionless for several minutes with his hand hovering above the cut in the earth. His shoulders tensed slightly, and Okisuke saw his jaw tighten.
Hayato stood slowly and turned to look at the camp behind him. His gaze swept across the clearing, taking in the positions of the bodies and the pattern of the chakra flow cuts. Something had changed in his expression. The neutral professionalism he had maintained throughout the day had been replaced by something Okisuke couldn't quite identify. The look suggested not fear exactly, but a deep wariness that indicated recognition.
The older samurai walked back toward where Okisuke waited. His movements were controlled and deliberate, but Okisuke detected tension in the way Hayato held his shoulders.
"My lord, we should return to the palace and prepare our report," Hayato said. His voice carried the same careful neutrality from earlier, but now Okisuke heard the effort it took to maintain that tone. "We have enough information to brief the Daimyo on what we've discovered."
"Did you find something?"
"The evidence here matches what we observed at the other sites. These are advanced chakra flow techniques executed by someone with extraordinary skill." Hayato gestured toward the horses. "The Daimyo will need to know that we're dealing with a samurai whose abilities exceed anything in our current forces."
Okisuke studied his second's face in the torchlight. Hayato met his gaze without flinching, but something fundamental had shifted. The older samurai had discovered something at that southern furrow, something that had triggered recognition or understanding. Whatever he had seen or realized, he had chosen not to share it.
"You recognized something," Okisuke said. The statement was not a question.
Hayato's expression remained neutral, but his hands clenched briefly at his sides before relaxing. The gesture was so quick that Okisuke almost missed it.
"I recognized the fundamental techniques, my lord. Every samurai in the Land of Iron would recognize chakra flow when they see it." Hayato's tone was measured and even. "But the specific patterns and the level of mastery displayed here are beyond my current understanding. I need time to review our documentation and consider the implications before I make any definitive statements."
The answer was technically accurate but deliberately evasive. Okisuke had not climbed up the ranks just because the previous Mifune went missing. He was smart enough to understand when his second was withholding information. The older samurai had seen something in those cut patterns that meant more than he was willing to discuss in the field.
"Very well," Okisuke said. He turned toward his other samurai and raised his voice to carry across the clearing. "Mount up. We're returning to the palace."
They rode through the night and reached the palace by dawn. Okisuke dismissed his men and told them to rest while he prepared his report for the Daimyo. Hayato bowed and departed with the others, but Okisuke noticed that his second headed toward the archive building rather than the barracks.