Shortly after withdrawing from the battlefield, Aburame Tetsumaru halted his advance to regroup with ten fresh Scythe-Mantises that had arrived on his command.
He had his disciples switch to the new mounts. The toll of combat was far greater than that of a standard march; in just seventeen minutes across two battles, the six participating Scythe-Mantises had suffered severe weight loss. The four being ridden, in particular, had shed a full quarter of their body mass. To push them further would have resulted in sudden death from overexertion.
Switching to fresh, high-stamina mounts was essential for the coming fight and would save the lives of the original six. Even though the Broodmothers could now mass-produce them, each Scythe-Mantis still carried significant manufacturing value—the cost was anything but trivial.
In this campaign, Tetsumaru had lost a staggering number of other insects. If produced through traditional means, the price tag would have been an astronomical figure. Fortunately, they had cleared it before the war: all losses were to be reimbursed by Konoha.
Technically, I'm making a pure profit here. Nice.
Of course, the Third Hokage wasn't a fool. If this mission had been assigned to a conventional ninja force, it would have required at least three hundred shinobi. By the end of the battle, the village would have had to dish out rewards for at least ninety B-rank and twenty A-rank missions. Factoring in the logistical drain of moving an army, the total expenditure would have reached the equivalent of a high-ranking bounty—roughly "one Asuma."
And that was before the real fighting started. Factoring in the inevitable death benefits, disability pensions, and mission-rank upgrades—especially with a Kage like the Kazekage on the field—the price would have spiraled toward one or two hundred million Ryo.
By handing it to Tetsumaru, even if he fought to the last bug and lost every single one of them, Konoha's total expenditure wouldn't exceed forty million. It was a bargain of the century.
The Hokage's only real concern was whether Tetsumaru could actually hold the line. It was only after Orochimaru personally vouched for him that the Hokage was convinced to authorize the massive insect transport to the front.
Since they were swapping mounts anyway, Tetsumaru decided to take a brief breather. He summoned a logistics hive, instructing his three students to restock their tools and swallow military ration pills to replenish their chakra.
While his disciples rested, Tetsumaru established a link with his distant Broodmothers, ordering his Exploding Locusts to prepare for launch. For this upcoming raid, he wouldn't be leading a swarm of standard insects. He was opting for a far more violent tactical approach.
After five minutes of rest, the four ninjas had recovered enough stamina to set out again, spirits high. Their destination was the site where they had annihilated the Sunabachi Company ten minutes prior. They would wipe out whoever happened to be there.
Well, if the Kazekage is there, I'm turning right back around and calling it a day, Tetsumaru joked inwardly.
The Scythe-Mantises carried the ninjas to the crest of the hill. In the valley below, fifty-odd Suna ninjas were picking through the mountains of insect corpses, searching for survivors.
Having already confirmed the Kazekage wasn't present, Tetsumaru had issued the launch command to the Exploding Locusts two minutes ago.
He led his disciples and the six accompanying Scythe-Mantises in a downhill charge. From their vantage point, the dozens of Sand ninjas looked like tiny fleas, hopping frantically about the valley before diving out of sight.
The ones who dared to stay put were the powerhouses—either weaving signs for high-level ninjutsu or unfurling massive puppets.
Tetsumaru knew they were waiting for him to enter range. First would come the elemental jutsu, then the shuriken and senbon, and finally the kunai.
He lightly snapped his fingers.
Instantly, the valley was turned inside out.
I dumped nearly a million insect corpses in this spot and planned to fight here again. How could I not pre-plant a minefield?
Shinobi were professionally trained to spot and disarm poisons, traps, and explosive tags during a cleanup. Normally, a Landmine Insect would find it difficult to evade a ninja's scrutiny. However, this valley was carpeted in a thick, nauseating layer of a million dead bugs—millions upon millions of severed limbs and shattered husks. Several thousand Landmine Insects didn't even need to camouflage; they just blended into the gore, becoming impossible to distinguish.
Because the Sand ninjas had been scouring the valley, many were standing directly on or adjacent to the mines when they detonated. Tetsumaru watched as several plumes of smoke and dust from the explosions were tinged a vivid, visceral red.
Before the dust could even settle, thirty-six Exploding Locusts arrived, diving straight into the carnage.
These large specimens carried a massive payload of internal explosive bugs. In a series of deafening roars, the valley was hammered by concentrated blasts, claiming a heavy toll on Sand ninjas whether they were hidden or out in the open.
Without slowing down, the ten Scythe-Mantises charged into the smoke, heading for the periphery where survivors of the two blast waves were likely to be found.
These survivors were indeed elites. Sensing the incoming attack, they launched powerful counterattacks from within the haze.
It wasn't common knowledge, but Tetsumaru usually covered his entire face with armor beetles. He had long since stopped relying on his eyes to observe the world. Consequently, the obscured visibility didn't hinder him at all. He raised his long blade, pointing it straight at a target's signature.
The target heard the thundering approach of the Scythe-Mantis and unleashed a spray of senbon, followed by a frantic flurry of sword strikes to keep the enemy at bay.
The senbon didn't matter—they couldn't pierce a Mantis's shell. Even the heavier sword strikes were no concern as long as the blades weren't forged from chakra-conductive metal.
One, two, three, four, five... Five blades? Wait, wrong target. It's a puppet.
Tetsumaru frowned slightly, but the Mantis's momentum was too great to stop and search for the hidden puppeteer. He had to commit to the strike.
It was still a win; destroying this puppet was equivalent to neutralizing a Jonin's primary combat strength.
However, the way one fought a human was entirely different from how one fought a puppet. Against a human, you aimed for depth—a single puncture through the vitals was enough. Against a puppet, you aimed for total destruction. You needed a heavy hammer to smash it into splinters to be sure it was "dead."
Tetsumaru hadn't mastered the signature physical techniques of the Senju, nor was he carrying heavy weaponry. He had even swapped his standard gauntlets for blade-limbs. All he could do was raise his long blade and swing with everything he had.
As they crossed paths, the relative velocity was doubled. Neither side had the time for finesse.
The puppet's head and three of its weapon-arms were severed. Tetsumaru was unlucky enough to take a sword strike to the forehead; his outer armor was split open, but the blade only grazed the skin beneath.
As they passed, Tetsumaru triggered the appendages on his back. A sharp insect limb stabbed into the center of the puppet's torso and snapped off inside.
The broken-off limb contained a Landmine Insect—a specialized "anti-puppet" weapon Tetsumaru had refined through a year of field testing. The results were spectacular.
As the insect detonated inside the chassis, the puppet was blown to pieces. To Tetsumaru's surprise, the resulting smoke was red, followed immediately by the scent of fresh blood.
He realized the truth: the puppeteer had been hiding inside the puppet. Talk about bad luck. Or perhaps the ninja had been injured by the initial ground mines and sought refuge inside his machine, only to be blown apart.
Either way, the man was dead.
A sudden stumble in the Scythe-Mantis's stride alerted Tetsumaru. Once they cleared the smoke, he leaned over to inspect its leg.
Good grief. There was a deep, open gash on the Mantis's right leg, with a broken blade still embedded in the wound.
Tetsumaru couldn't wrap his head around it. A Scythe-Mantis supported four hundred kilograms on four legs; its leg carapaces were reinforced to the thickness of four fingers. There was no way a standard puppet wielding a non-chakra-enhanced blade could have carved a wound that deep.
He leaned down and yanked the fragment out. A quick glance confirmed it wasn't chakra metal, but the middle of a battlefield wasn't the place for a lab study. He pocketed the metal shard.
Additionally, the Mantis's right scythe had been severed at the joint—likely a lucky strike against a weak point.
Soon, the other Mantises emerged from the smoke-shrouded valley. Six in total. Tetsumaru exhaled in relief when he saw all three of his students had made it out.
It had been a perilous charge. Two of the three Genin were injured, with Yoshito being the worst off. All six Mantises had sustained varying degrees of damage.
Tetsumaru assessed their condition. Yoshito had already bandaged his own wound; despite the bumpy ride, the bleeding was minimal, and his life wasn't in immediate danger.
Hiro had been stabbed in the ribs during the engagement, but his attached insect limbs had absorbed most of the force. He had two cracked ribs, but he could still fight.
Inuzuka O was the luckiest—no blood, though a blade had shaved a literal "bald track" right down the center of his hair. It was a terrifyingly close call.
The six Mantises didn't stop. They raced west over the ridge before banking south. Once they were clear of the ridge, their pace slowed, allowing the squad to tend to their injuries.
"Sensei... are we still going through with the raid on Company 1?" Yoshito asked, clutching the bandage on his abdomen.
From Yoshito's perspective, Team 121 was in rough shape. Their standard swarm was depleted, everyone was injured, and aside from the Captain, their chakra reserves were nearly dry. How could they possibly charge another Suna company?
Unlike yesterday's guerrilla shell-game, today had been a brutal war of maneuver. Three consecutive head-on clashes had taught the Genin just how formidable the Suna elites were.
Aside from the oblivious O, both Yoshito and Hiro felt like they were at their limit. The first two charges had been manageable under the cover of millions of bugs. But the third? Aside from two rounds of explosions, they had each faced Suna's best with nothing but a single Scythe-Mantis at their side.
In those life-and-death moments, it wasn't just the Konoha ninjas who had pushed their limits—the Suna ninjas had exploded with desperate power as well. In the high-speed chaos of the smoke, there was no room for fancy tricks. It was a contest of raw power, experience, and luck.
Survival had come down to the Mantises' thick armor and a fair amount of fortune.
Yoshito's luck had run thin. An enemy blade had shattered against the Mantis's scythe, and a flying shard had lanced into his abdomen. The subsequent jarring movement of the mount had caused secondary damage, tearing a ten-centimeter gash. Fortunately, while gruesome, a wound of that size wasn't necessarily fatal for a ninja; blood loss and infection could be managed.
"Don't worry. I'm changing tactics again," Tetsumaru said with a reassuring smile. "I don't need you three to charge. Just help me draw their attention from the ridge."
The three kids were as strong as Chunin, but they were still children. Their lack of endurance in a sustained engagement was a physical reality that couldn't be overcome by willpower alone.
The primary force for the final battle would be the 160 Exploding Locusts still circling high above. Each of these locusts was a carrier for 106 Landmine Insects—a total payload of nearly 18,000 mines.
This explosion would be massive, dwarfing the previous blast in the valley.
After this hit, they would have to run. A blast of that scale would be impossible for the Third Kazekage to ignore. It would act like a beacon for a Kage-level master. Tetsumaru would make one quick pass to see if there was any easy loot, but he wouldn't stick around to expand his gains.
Is my luck really this good today!?
Within three kilometers of Suna's Company 1, Tetsumaru's Domain Field Barrier picked up the roar of jutsu and the cacophony of insects. The battle there hadn't ended yet.
It was unbelievable.
Tetsumaru directed the other Mantises to keep moving along the valley floor while he crested the western ridge to look down into the narrow canyon. One look explained why the fight was still going.
Suna Company 1 wasn't alone; they had regrouped with others, bringing their numbers to nearly a hundred. They had formed a battalion-sized unit. More importantly, this group specialized in a rarity for Suna: Earth Style.
The battlefield was a maze of layered earthen walls. Their core position featured a high central platform protected by a thick, vaulted dome to shield against aerial attacks.
The Sand ninjas were hunkered down in this "earthen fortress," using synchronized Earth Style to repel the swarm.
Earth Style was slow, but against this fortress, the crawling Poison-Needle Beetles were forced to climb up and down undulating walls, making their advance agonizingly difficult.
Earth Style: Moving Earth Core!
With every pulse of the jutsu, the height of the outer walls shifted. Insects caught in the depressions were buried alive as the earth heaved.
Flight-Locusts carpeted the dome of the fortress but couldn't find a way in. They were forced to funnel through a few deliberate openings, where they were systematically crushed by falling boulders or cleared away by Wind Style.
The rhythm was steady and efficient. While their killing rate was slower than the Wind specialists, they had no obvious weaknesses.
Tetsumaru watched for a moment and realized there was no "easy pickings" here. He began to climb the ridge. The five Mantises on the other side matched his movement. They met at the summit and came to a halt.
_______
+65 chapters on: patreon.com/Shinobi_Scrolls