Those men took Zixu to the outskirts of Kumogakure, a place specifically designated for "outside friends"—a gathering ground for those who dared to challenge the warriors of the village.
Zixu glanced at his so-called "colleagues"—all of whom bore injuries of varying severity—and quickly understood the level of brutality within the Hidden Cloud.
The Cloud-nin leading the way gestured toward the wounded shinobi, their bodies covered in bruises, and spoke with feigned kindness.
"They thought they were strong enough to challenge us. Their ninjutsu is decent, but we in Kumogakure are known for our Taijutsu and Kenjutsu. The fact that they still have all their limbs is proof of our mercy."
He paused, watching Zixu's expression, expecting fear, hesitation—anything. But Zixu remained utterly indifferent, much to the ninja's frustration.
Hmph. Keep up the act. Let's see if you're still this calm after we break you.
"Some of them just don't know their limits," the Cloud-nin continued, his tone turning sinister. "Swords are unforgiving, and in battle, injuries are inevitable."
He motioned toward another group of people—a sorry sight of cripples, some missing limbs, others with broken bodies, huddled together with bowls in front of them like beggars.
"But we are still merciful. We didn't take their lives. We let them live. Do you think you'll be one of them?"
The malice in the Cloud-nin's voice grew so thick it almost felt tangible, but Zixu dismissed the threat as nothing more than an insignificant breeze.
"Well, if possible, can we get on with it and fight someone strong already?"
At this point, Zixu and his group were still lingering on the outskirts of Kumogakure, far from its inner regions. This small hill seemed to be a designated area for hosting outsiders.
"Hah? In such a hurry? No problem."
The Cloud-nin smirked, his dark-skinned face twisting into something almost grotesque.
Zixu assumed the man would send his subordinates to fetch a powerful opponent from the village. Instead, the moment the ninja waved his men back, his left arm crackled with lightning, and he lunged at Zixu with blinding speed.
Raiton: Raiken (Lightning Release: Thunder Fist).
Zixu's eyes narrowed as he analyzed the technique. The lightning enveloping the ninja's arm caused the muscles to bulge unnaturally.
"A technique that stimulates the muscles with electricity?"
For an ordinary shinobi, an unexpected punch from this move would be devastating.
Zixu calculated his response in an instant. He could dodge—but there was no need.
It would be rude not to return the favor.
Without hesitation, Zixu swung his kanabō (spiked iron club) at an angle. The weapon sliced through the air with a sharp whoosh before slamming into the Cloud-nin's arm, sending him flying like a ragdoll.
If you're here, you might as well make the best of it. In this case, that meant sending his opponent straight to hell.
The Cloud-nin's subordinates froze in shock before splitting into two groups. One drew their swords and rushed Zixu, while the other bolted toward the village, likely to call for reinforcements.
The battered outsiders—those who had previously suffered under the hands of Kumogakure—reacted instantly. They knew the Cloud-nin's tactics all too well. If they could win, they fought. If they couldn't, they called for backup. And if that didn't work? The entire village would come after you.
For too long, these people had endured senseless beatings, and their resentment had reached its peak.
The fight erupted into a chaotic brawl, more like a street gang clash than a proper shinobi battle. Taijutsu and Ninjutsu clashed, muscles straining against each other in a violent storm.
Zixu merely stood back, watching the madness unfold.
At some point, he sighed and walked over to the Cloud-nin he had previously sent flying, digging him out from a pile of rubble.
"Wake up. I want to enter Kumogakure and challenge the strong. Do you have a problem with that?"
The Cloud-nin clutched his swollen arm—now engorged due to the lightning overload—and spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Hah... If I knew those guys were going to act up, I would've beaten them down earlier," he muttered, forcing a laugh.
His gaze met Zixu's, and despite the pain, he nodded.
"Fine. But I hope you don't regret it."
Kumogakure respected strength above all else. Though Zixu had sent him flying with a single strike, the ninja couldn't deny the power behind it.
And yet, he still thought Zixu had taken a cheap shot—conveniently forgetting that he had tried a sneak attack first.
The skirmish between the two sides didn't last long. The outsiders, injured and outnumbered, couldn't hold out against the seemingly endless wave of Cloud-nin.
But surprisingly, the villagers didn't punish them. On the contrary, they seemed to enjoy the brawl, as if it was a form of entertainment.
When it was all over, the leader made good on his word and brought a master to face Zixu.
The man standing before him had dark skin, white hair with long bangs covering his left eye, thick lips, and tattoos on both shoulders—one reading "雷" (thunder) and the other "水" (water). Kumogakure shinobi, it seemed, had a habit of marking their bodies with kanji.
The swordsman murmured something to the surrounding ninjas, then pulled the massive blade from his back, his expression tired and indifferent.
"I'm sorry, but I'm hardly a master. But if it's a fight you want, I suppose I'm the only one left for you. My name is Daruyin. Shall we—"
Before he could finish, Zixu was already upon him.
Boom!
His fist slammed into Daruyin's chest, sending a tremor through his entire body.
Daruyin stumbled backward, dazed.
What the hell?! This brat has no honor—he just launched a surprise attack!
Zixu simply crossed his arms.
Honor? What honor? In battle, hesitation meant death.
In the words of the old texts: "Zi Bu Yu, the gods and supernatural forces are untamed."
Which meant?
Zixu didn't speak. He simply let his power answer for him.
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