Konoha's gates faded gradually behind him.
He basked in the sunlight, feeling that warm, peaceful aura unique to Konoha. Then he quickened his pace.
His figure darted through the forest, soon far beyond the village's range.
In a dense, unnoticed thicket, he stopped.
Poof.
Poof.
Two identical shadow clones appeared at his sides.
No unnecessary words—perfect tacit understanding existed among the three "Akashi Soras."
One clone immediately surged forward, flickering several times before vanishing at the forest's edge. Its mission: scout five hundred meters ahead at maximum speed, detect all chakra signatures, and never engage proactively.
The other clone headed backward, disappearing similarly. Its task: trail three hundred meters behind the real body, erase traces, and guard against any pursuers.
One probe, one safeguard.
Perfect marching formation.
With that done, Sora's real body truly began moving.
His consciousness sank into the system.
[Replicate and play: Body Flicker Technique]
Buzz!
The world lost color in that instant.
Trees, light and shadow, sky—all stretched into blurred lines. He wasn't running; he was "teleporting."
Every cell endured the immense strain of Body Flicker. But with the Top-tier Uzumaki Physique fused with Wood Release source energy, it felt merely negligible pressure.
Vast mental energy burned as fuel for this flawless technique.
This wasn't his own Body Flicker.
Right now, he was a chess piece rapidly moving across the map.
An utterly rational machine executing the "hurry" command.
The forward scout clone's vision acted like precision radar—scanning everything ahead. Rustling grass, insect chirps, bird calls—even the faintest unusual chakra residue.
The rear guard clone's perception spread like a silent web over their path. Any following footsteps or prying gaze would be exposed.
Having devoured Sharingan and Byakugan sources, mental energy was the one thing Sora never lacked.
Time compressed under extreme speed.
Half a day passed.
The scout clone transmitted new intel.
Not visual or auditory.
Olfactory.
A faint scent mixing ozone and rust drifted in the air.
Lightning Release.
And blood.
Sora's real body didn't slow, but his calculation core spun wildly.
Chakra residue was faint—battle at least half a day old. Blood scent not thick—small scale. Lightning… Kumogakure ninjas? Or did Konoha's Anbu have Lightning experts?
Insufficient intel—unable to judge.
Continue forward.
Another half hour.
Scout clone reported again.
A battle-ravaged clearing.
Trees sliced cleanly—smooth cuts.
Ground with localized scorch marks.
Wind Release. Fire Release.
Konoha style.
No bodies, but bloodstains from at least three people.
The trapped Anbu squad? Ambushed here, then broke out?
Sora's brain—like a precision computer—pieced the fragments, reconstructing.
He was closing in on the truth.
Continue.
Speed unrelenting.
Like a tireless perpetual motion machine, his body—under perfect Flying Thunder God replication—became an invisible phantom piercing straight toward the Land of Rain.
Finally.
The sky darkened.
Not nightfall.
Thick gray-black clouds blotted the sun.
Air grew damp and oppressive.
A cold raindrop struck his face.
Then a second, a third.
Pattering rain soon merged into a sheet.
Land of Rain.
Arrived.
This nation eternally shrouded in rain—this chessboard of great powers' games—this ninja graveyard.
Sora finally slowed.
Here, a single lapse could mean death.
Rain washed the earth—and all traces. Fatal for tracking.
But for Sora with perfect recording, this curtain of rain was ideal cover.
He stopped atop the canopy of a massive ancient tree requiring several people to encircle.
Rain slid down his flaxen hair, lending his usually smiling face a touch of coldness.
The rear guard clone had silently dispelled.
No more worry about Konoha trackers.
Now he faced this nation's unknown malice.
He closed his eyes, activating sensory ninjutsu.
Muddy earth, gray rock, and omnipresent sorrow-tinged rain.
Mission scroll intel surfaced in his mind.
Last contact point: ten kilometers ahead in a canyon.
"Drip."
A raindrop fell from a leaf, splashing on the trunk before him—a tiny bloom.
That drop was the signal.
His perception spread along endless rain threads in all directions.
In this land, rain was the best scouting medium.
Each drop colliding with objects produced minute vibrations.
Imperceptible to normals.
But to Sora—who'd devoured multiple sensory techniques—this rain curtain was a 3D world map.
Soil softness.
Rock hardness.
Tree bark texture.
All constructed as data in his mind.
Found it.
About three hundred meters southeast—on a giant tree.
The "echo" there differed from others.
Several faint, nearly rain-erased scratches on the bark.
[Replicate and play: Body Flicker Technique]
His figure vanished, reappearing on that tree's branch the next instant.
He reached out, touching the rough bark.
An incomplete Konoha Anbu code mark.
Below: three scratches of varying depth.
Three people.
Still alive.
The scratches' end pointed northwest toward the ground.
Classic code.
Simple, effective, easily overlooked.
He didn't act immediately.
The forward scout clone had already silently infiltrated that direction.
Intel streamed in.
Three hundred meters ahead—no anomalies.
Five hundred—collapsed abandoned buildings.
Six hundred—extremely faint chakra reactions beneath the ruins.
Found them.
Sora leaped down, figure blurring into an afterimage once more.
Soon he reached the ruins.
Once a small town—utterly destroyed by years of war.
Broken walls stood silently in rain like tombstones.
The scout clone dispelled beside an unassuming, rubble-half-covered entrance.
Memories flooded in.
Here.
Sora ducked inside without hesitation.
A complex stench hit him—mold, blood, and herbs.
Narrow, damp passage—ankle-deep murky water underfoot.
He hated this environment.
But his face began brewing that trademark radiant smile.
After about ten meters, faint firelight appeared ahead.
Three Anbu-uniformed figures leaned against the wall.
Two gripped kunai warily, aimed at the passage entrance.
The third lay on the ground, abdomen wrapped in blood-soaked bandages—breathing shallow.
"Freeze!"
One in a tanuki mask barked lowly.
"Who are you?"
Sora stepped from darkness into firelight, illuminating his energetic face.
He raised both hands, expression perfectly surprised and relieved.
"Thank goodness! I found you! I'm here for support!"
His smile—pure as post-rain sunshine—clashed with the dim underground.
The two mobile Anbu froze.
They'd prepared for anything.
Enemies.
Or a gravely wounded, grim comrade like themselves.
Not an overly cheerful boy.
"Support? Just you?"
The weasel-masked Anbu's voice dripped suspicion.
"Yeah! Situation urgent—I rushed ahead alone!"
Sora pulled the Hokage-approved mission scroll from his chest and tossed it over.
Tanuki mask caught it, rapidly unrolling and verifying under firelight.
Weasel mask kept staring at Sora.
"Don't move. Stay there."
Sora stood obediently, even flashing them a smile.
"Relax, senpai—I'm pretty strong!"
Tanuki mask confirmed the scroll and exhaled slightly.
"Codename Crow, Akashi Sora. Confirmed ally."
He stowed the scroll but remained wary.
"Why only you?"
"Speed!"
Sora answered matter-of-factly.
"The Third said it was urgent, so I came at full speed!"
He walked straight to the gravely wounded.
"Hey! I said don't move!"
Weasel mask stepped forward, blocking him.
Sora stopped, face innocent and anxious.
"But this senpai's wound is critical! He'll die without treatment!"
His amber eyes purely reflected the cold mask.
"We have a medical ninja."
Weasel mask replied icily.
"You're the medical ninja?"
Sora glanced at tanuki mask—whose arm hung in a sling.
Tanuki mask fell silent.
He knew some medical ninjutsu, but chakra depleted—self-preservation was hard enough.
"Let me."
Sora's words brimmed with undeniable confidence.
"My medical ninjutsu is decent."
He bypassed the still-hesitant weasel mask and crouched beside the wounded.
[Replicate and play: Medical Ninjutsu - Mystical Palm Technique]
A gentle green glow ignited in his palm.
Pure, stable—radiating life.
Both tanuki and weasel Anbu stared.
Such refined Mystical Palm chakra—they'd only seen in Konoha Hospital experts.
This boy…
Sora ignored their shock, palm gently covering the abdomen.
Mystical Palm chakra seeped in—mild yet dominant.
Repairing torn muscle.
Reconnecting severed vessels.
Promoting cell regeneration.
Visibly, the wounded's pained expression eased.
His breathing steadied.
"So… incredible…"
Weasel mask murmured, fully dropping guard.
In this desperate situation, a powerful medical ninja was a god.
Sora looked up, flashing a toothy grin.
"Told you I'm strong!"
Just then.
Poof!
A faint chakra burst from outside.
The scout clone!
Sora's smile vanished instantly.
"Enemies!"
He barked lowly, helping the now-stabilized wounded up.
"Can you move?"
"Yes!"
Tanuki mask answered immediately, drawing his ninja blade.
"How many?"
"Unknown, but fast! Heading here!"
Sora judged rapidly.
"We can't stay! Evacuate now!"
"Which way?"
"Follow me!"
Without hesitation, he hoisted the wounded onto his back and charged toward the passage's other end.
"Hurry!"
Tanuki and weasel exchanged glances and followed.
Barely ten seconds after leaving the shelter—
BOOM!
A massive blast shook the entire underground passage.
Rubble and dirt rained from above.
They collapsed the entrance.
"They want to bury us alive!"
Weasel mask's voice carried fear.
"Don't stop!"
Sora's voice rang calm in darkness—terrifyingly so.
"This passage has another exit!"
Carrying a person, his speed didn't drop—like strolling in his backyard.
Soon, a rusted iron grate appeared ahead.
Beyond: a larger, web-like sewer system.
"Earth Release: Earth Dragon Bullet!"
Behind—a muffled ninjutsu activation.
A massive mud dragon roared through the collapsed barrier, charging after them!
Iwa ninjas!
Land of Rain truly a great powers' arena.
"Water Release: Water Encampment Wall!"
Tanuki mask reacted fast—seals formed; a water wall materialized, blocking the dragon.
BOOM!
Earth and water collided—mud and steam erupting.
"Go!"
Seizing the gap, Sora kicked open the corroded grate and rushed out.
"This way!"
He avoided wide main paths, diving into a narrower branch.
Pursuit footsteps grew closer.
"We won't outrun them like this!"
Tanuki mask gasped—chakra nearly gone.
"Don't worry."
Sora's voice remained calm.
Poof.
He created a shadow clone.
"You—lure them away."
Real body ordered the clone.
"Got it!"
The clone flashed the same radiant smile as the original, then turned and ran ostentatiously the other way.
"Hey! Over here! Chase me, idiots!"
Some pursuing Iwa ninjas were indeed drawn off.
But Sora's real body abruptly stopped.
He looked up at the high sewer vault.
Several figures hung silently upside-down like hunting spiders.
Their forehead protectors bore an umbrella.
Amegakure ninjas.
"Tch, they really think highly of us."
Sora curled his lip.
"Water Release: Syrup Capturing Field!"
One Amegakure ninja sealed—massive sticky liquid sprayed from the ceiling, covering their path.
"Careful! Don't step in it!"
Tanuki shouted.
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
Sora didn't even turn—single-handed seals; violent airflow erupted from his mouth, reversing the sticky liquid!
Several Amegakure ninjas—caught off guard—were plastered by their own jutsu and fell clumsily from the ceiling.
"Lightning Release: Earth Walk!"
Sora seized the moment, other hand pressing the waterlogged ground.
Blue-white current—like a predatory snake—instantly spread across the surface!
"Aaaah!"
Screams echoed in the sewer.
Three down in an instant.
Remaining Amegakure and catching-up Iwa ninjas halted, staring warily at the boy carrying a man.
"Go!"
Sora barked again, leading his stunned comrades deeper into darkness.
After confirming pursuers shaken off, they stopped on a relatively dry platform.
Sora set down the wounded, turned with a smile—back to harmless.
He created another shadow clone.
"Alright, safe for now. Follow this path straight—it leads to the surface, not far from Fire Country border."
He told tanuki and weasel.
"This clone will protect you until you're safe. Mission report—leave it to you."
"What about you?"
Weasel mask asked instinctively.
"Me?"
Sora pointed at himself.
"I'll deal with the remaining pursuers. Otherwise you won't get far."
"Too dangerous!"
Tanuki objected immediately.
"Don't worry—I'm fast at running."
Sora waved with a confident smile.
"Go. For the village."
With that, his real body turned and vanished unhesitatingly into deeper darkness.
Tanuki and weasel watched the fading back, then the smiling clone beside them—speechless for a long while.
Sora's real body moved through darkness.
The smile had long faded—only ice-cold calm remained.