Chapter 28

Land of River
Ryoma, Jonin

The burning red glare of a flare in the distance told him two things. One, that one of the teams had come across a situation they felt unequipped to handle, and two, that they were wise enough to listen to his instructions and retreat. Judging by the direction, that was team Three specifically.

He set his fishing rod down and focused, sending a specific mental command in that ‘direction’. “I’ll handle it. Hold down the base while I’m gone, Second.” He nodded in Baki’s direction. Baki turned his very serious eye towards him and nodded sharply.

A few seconds later, his mental command finally reached the sand clone at that marker, and he was enveloped in chakra-laden smoke.

The distributed nature of this mission meant that Ryoma couldn’t necessarily join each and every genin team and make sure they didn’t kill themselves stumbling into an explosion or something, that also wasn’t really the point of this mission. This mission, as absolutely simple as it was, was designed to get them used to operating in their own four-man teams and doing missions.

After Ryoma’s time as a remedial teacher was done, that’s all they’d be doing. He wasn’t going to be there in the future, because he wasn’t their Jonin sensei.

Having said that, he didn’t just leave them off on their own. He gave them each one of the flares the Wood Dragoon used, told them to leave specific markers at the five kilometer point along the road, and made sure to give very clear and specific orders about retreating at the first sign of danger to fire them off. Now, if he ran over to them after that, it might take him… maybe six or seven minutes, assuming he was cycling his chakra appropriately. Other ninja could go faster, but Ryoma really needed to do more long-distance running.

Now, he could try operating a sand clone at that distance to support them, but the problem came from the ‘distance lag’ of operating a sand clone. The further a sand clone was from him, the longer it took for his ‘orders’ to reach it, and the longer it took for information to return from the sand clone and reach him. At five kilometers, he was looking at a several second delay between all actions and reactions, which would make the already fairly mediocre sand clone even less useful than normal.

This was where his newest Jutsu came in. Summoning Technique was a C-rank Jutsu that allowed the ninja to form a ‘contract’ with something, offer a little blood and chakra, then call that thing to them. It was a semi-common technique, one that he had the clearance to learn from the guys in intel, and was used to great effect by a great many ninja. Most of the time it was used to summon giant animals over to punch a big monster in the face, but you could form a ‘contract’ with just about anything, including people and objects.

After the Mk2 was done, Ryoma was going to form a ‘contract’ with it and use that to summon it to battlefields in the future. In the meanwhile, there was no reason he couldn’t start incorporating it into his toolbox and tactics.

The first idea he had tested was forming a contract with and summoning ‘himself’. It was a bit finicky, and it took a bit of work to manage, but he figured it out eventually. Trying to summon himself while he was in place created a puff of chakra-smoke and nothing else. He was already present, so summoning himself to the location… nothing but fanfare, really.

Summoning a sand clone was possible, but of questionable utility. He wasn’t exactly sure how he could take advantage of that yet while accounting for the existing limitations of sand clones, but there was probably some utility there.

Using a sand clone to summon himself to a different location, on the other hand, was a massively more intriguing prospect. He had to give them a little bit of his blood ahead of time, and they usually didn’t have enough chakra to stick around after doing it. He was also fairly sure that it required more and more chakra the farther he wanted to summon something- which meant that sand clones would be unable to summon him after a certain distance.

He also wouldn’t know the precise situation that he would be summoning himself into, and there was a decently long delay between when he sent the command to summon himself and when the clone received it to perform the technique.

That was still all completely worth dealing with, because the ability to move himself five kilometers in seconds instead of minutes was a tactical advantage that could not, in any circumstances, be underestimated.

Ryoma turned a six or seven minute reinforcement delay into about fifteen seconds.

His sand clone dissolved behind him, and the smoke around obscured a night lit by a glaring red sun.

It took him less than a second to process the important details of the scene. Two allied genin on the ground. One allied genin slowly leaping to attack. Heavily injured unknown raising a black sword with a glowing gem in the blade, staring down at allied genin.

His chakra cycled, his legs moved, his arms were covered in spiraling wind chakra.

The unknown noticed him, remaining eye glaring lidlessly up as its sword moved to block. Decapitation strike no longer feasible, Ryoma adjusted his target.

His fist smashed into the gem of the black blade, holding for a half-moment before shattering as the wind chakra around his gauntleted fist splintered it. The glowing shards spread out around as Ryoma took another step and swung his other fist.

The hostile barely had time to move as Ryoma’s left hook smashed into its hands. Idly, he noticed that the hand was already missing some fingers, which made it really easy to knock the sword out of his grip and send it spiraling up and away.

Mysterious glowing orb in the sword, broken. Sword, removed. Hostile is partially disarmed and disoriented. Further with vocalization.

“Reverse Summoning Technique.” He declared, taking another step forwards and throwing out a sharp right jab. His gauntleted fist and white sword made a ringing noise as they clashed. The upper left arm had a large bloody chunk torn out of it, exposing the bone beneath. “Useful, don’t you think?”

His taunt was more effective than he was expecting, because the injured hostile let out an immediate, inarticulate shriek of rage. The hostile pulled back and swung, blade bouncing off Ryoma’s heavy bracer.

Then he swung again, again being deflected by a raised metal bracer sheathed in wind chakra.

Then again.

Then again and again and again and again. A furious, desperate, utterly senseless forwards assault from a half-dead ninja doing his best to let loose a very deep well of frustration. Sparks and soon chips of metal began to fly off his gauntlets as the assault continued.

Ryoma grit his teeth, taking a step back and letting one foot hover briefly. In ideal circumstances, he’d move to capture and take this guy alive, but his rush to protect the genin didn’t leave him time to pull a bolter with paralytic senbon out. Maybe he should start carrying on like a shoulder pet?

Something to improve in the future.

The hostile, still screaming, swung again.

He was interrupted for a brief moment, as a chakra string caught his foot and tugged it forwards harshly. The connection snapped a moment later, the hostile cycling his chakra almost instantly in response to the loss of control, but it was too late.

Ryoma stepped forwards and punched down. His gauntleted fist, covered in shredding wind, smashed into the hostile’s nose.

The hostile bounced off the paved stones of the road, face caving inwards with the sickening crunch of collapsing bone and a dozen sounds of a knife cutting through gelatinous meat. Red splattered across his front as the body hit the ground.

He fell into a second punch, just to be certain that the target was properly disabled. His gauntleted fist smashed into the cratered face like a drill, tearing through blood, bone, and brain matter until reaching the road and cracking the tiles with the weight of impact. The tearing winds ripped the head apart, akin to blending something without a container, splattering him even further with red gore.

The legs kicked up then fell with dull thumps. The body continued to twitch sporadically for a few moments. Ryoma sighed and rose from his kneel, briefly shaking his hand out. Punching a rock was hardly a pleasant experience.

He stared at the body for a few seconds longer, to make sure it wasn’t about to pull something sneaky on him. Slowly he pulled out his storage scroll, tapping a bloody finger on an open slot and sealing the corpse away, most of the gore going with it.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

He sent a wary eye around him before returning to the Genin. Team three was… Chikako, Bazo, Mao, Yoshimi. Mao and Yoshimi were here and up, Chikako was slumped against the road-marker he told them to make.

“Status report.” He announced declaratively, fingers reaching out strings and grabbing the rest of the battlefield salvage to sort out later- the shards of that gemstone and both the swords in this case. He made his way over to Chikako as he tucked the scroll away, checking her pulse, lightly checking for broken ribs, and giving her a once-over to make sure she wasn’t bleeding or foaming at the mouth.

Broken ribs, heavy bruising, and absolutely caked in sweat. Two strings connected to her body, lifting her gently into the air and close enough for him to catch her again.

He blinked, frowned and turned back to the active genin. “Genin, status report.”

One was unconscious already- Yoshimi had fallen forwards on her face, rear in the air in a manner that would be comical if this wasn’t currently a serious matter. Mao, face thoroughly stained in soot, blood, and tears, exhaustively pushed herself to her feet.