A small figure flickered through the dense forest, his shock of golden hair gleaming brilliantly under the midday sun. Minato glanced at the map in his hand, constantly cross-referencing it with the surrounding landmarks.
He had finally secured permission from the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, to head to the front lines. The moment he arrived at the camp, he had volunteered to support Tatsuma.
No one had objected—or rather, hardly anyone had the time to notice Minato. Only Yamanaka Tani, upon hearing Minato was looking for Tatsuma, had handed over a map of Tatsuma's projected route.
Minato hadn't set out entirely alone; he had initially accompanied a Hyuga reinforcement unit performing a flanking maneuver. However, one by one, the Hyuga ninjas had broken off from the group to support other squads in distress.
Now, he was traveling alone. Tatsuma's current position was practically at the rear of the Suna forces—one of the most critical and dangerous passes in the sector.
But when Minato finally arrived, the scene before him left him paralyzed with shock.
Bodies were everywhere. Konoha shinobi and Suna ninjas lay tangled together on the blood-soaked earth, their remains so mangled that some were barely recognizable.
"Tatsuma!"
Panic surged in Minato's chest. He pushed his chakra to its limits, desperately sensing the environment. Finally, he picked up a cluster of chakra signatures in the distance—the only signs of life in this graveyard.
Minato didn't waste a second, sprinting toward the clearing. As he burst through the tree line, he saw Tatsuma surrounded by dozens of Suna ninjas. Half of Tatsuma's body was drenched in crimson. Even his blue-white, naturally curly hair was matted with thick, dark blood that clung to his face in gruesome clumps. He looked utterly spent.
"Tatsuma!" Minato cried out in worry, landing a short distance away and drawing a kunai, his eyes darting warily between the surrounding enemies.
"What are you doing here?"
Tatsuma's voice was low and raspy. There was no joy in it, no relief at being reinforced.
"Another brat?" Sajin laughed derisively from the center of the circle. "Has the Leaf truly run out of men? Sending children to the slaughter one after another?"
Sajin stood over a fallen form—Inuzuka Shin's ninken. The once snow-white fur was now a filthy coat of mud and gore. The massive hound lay motionless on the ground, the faint, shallow rising and falling of its chest the only sign that it still clung to life.
Minato ignored Tatsuma's cold tone, his voice steady with resolve. "Tatsuma, I'm taking you back."
"Back? You think either of you is leaving this place alive?"
With a flick of Sajin's fingers, a Suna ninja lunged at Minato without a word. Minato, startled by the sheer bloodlust in the man's eyes, froze for a split second.
That moment of hesitation was nearly fatal. The Suna ninja closed the gap instantly, his blade whistling toward Minato's throat.
Spurt!
At the last possible second, Tatsuma blurred into motion. He slammed into Minato, knocking him out of the trajectory of the strike. Tatsuma raised his arm to parry the blade, but he was a fraction too slow.
While he saved Minato from injury, a deep, bone-deep gash opened across Tatsuma's left forearm. Seeing the opening, the Suna ninja raised his sword to strike again, pressing his advantage.
Minato finally snapped out of his daze, reaching for a kunai to help, but he was too far out of position.
Tatsuma watched the blade descend. A strange, eerie sense of calm—a hollow regret—washed over him. He felt as though he couldn't move. His left arm, battered by consecutive injuries, felt like lead, refusing to lift.
Whimper...
A few meters away, Inuzuka Shin's hound let out one final, agonizing whimper and went still. It was dead.
Throb!
In that instant, the numbness of blood loss in Tatsuma's left arm was replaced by a searing, violent pain. A sudden, massive surge of power erupted from within his body.
Just as Sajin thought the boy was finished, Tatsuma's left arm snapped up in a perfect block. The Suna ninja frowned, though he didn't think much of the desperate move.
But a heartbeat later, Tatsuma didn't retreat or dodge. He stepped into the strike. That half-step of adjustment turned a simple block into a devastating elbow strike.
BAM!
The movement was a textbook "Heart-Piercing Elbow" from Bajiquan. Tatsuma had never formally studied the art, but combat was ultimately about using the body to break the opponent; in his heightened state, his instincts had forged the perfect form.
Because of his height, the strike didn't hit the ninja's chest. Instead, it slammed squarely into the man's solar plexus. The force was so immense it shattered the ninja's core strength, leaving him gasping and defenseless.
Tatsuma seized the opening. He tried to snare the ninja's sword-arm with his left hand, but the damage to his limb made his fingers clumsy.
Sensing the loss of dexterity, Tatsuma pivoted. He trapped the ninja's wrist under his armpit and hooked his stiff fingers into the man's tactical vest, yanking him forward to completely destroy his balance.
He raised his right hand—the chakra short sword poised like a "Fist Under Elbow" strike.
Stab!
He drove the blade into the ninja's neck. Then again. And again.
Tatsuma showed no mercy. The mental exhaustion and the violent chakra overflowing from his mangled left arm had stripped away his ability to overthink. He was acting on pure, lethal intent.
Minato, who had been shoved aside, watched in horrified silence. He had killed before, but he had never seen anything like this—Tatsuma's eyes didn't even blink. It was a display of calm, calculated insanity.
"Who said I was leaving?"
Tatsuma released the limp body and looked up at Sajin. The volatile chakra in his left arm was coursing through his meridians, filling him with an unbearable, itchy irritability.
He glanced at Minato. He realized why his power was peaking—his entire squad was dead. Because Minato hadn't officially engaged in the fight yet, the system didn't count him as a "teammate."
[Graveyard Phantom] had doubled Tatsuma's stats as his allies fell one by one. Now that he was the "sole survivor," his power had doubled yet again.
Tatsuma's Strength, Speed, and Physique had already hovered around 2,500 points. Doubled, they hit 5,000. Doubled again, they reached 10,000—the threshold of an elite Jonin. This was how he had dismantled a Suna Chunin so effortlessly.
Furthermore, the Nine-Tails' chakra that Uzumaki Mito had sealed into his left arm was beginning to leak. Every second, Tatsuma could feel his raw power climbing higher.
But his mind was fraying. He looked at Minato. If Minato joined the fight, it would be a net loss. It would deactivate the solo-survivor buffs of his [White Yaksha] traits, and Tatsuma would have to waste focus worrying about Minato's safety.
Suppreasing the irrational rage and bloodlust bubbling in his chest, Tatsuma growled, "Minato, get out of here!"
"But, Tatsuma..."
Minato couldn't bear to leave him. Recovering from their shock, the Suna ninjas became more cautious. They tightened the circle, closing in on the two boys.
Tatsuma watched them, his teeth bared. He looked at Sajin and snarled, "Don't you get it yet?! I don't have time to deal with you. Right now..."
"I just want to have a quiet rampage!"
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