Power Stone Goals from now on: I always post a minimum of 5 chapters. Henceforth the following are the goals:
Every 200 powerstones, I upload an extra chapter.
If we hit top 30 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we hit top 10 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we are top 5...well lets get to that first. Happy readings!
Chapter 63: Betrayal
I narrowed my eyes, focusing.
I tried sensing the chakra signature again.
It wasn't simple.
I wasn't Karin — I couldn't instantly identify someone just based on their chakra since its 'different colors.'
But...
I could tell strength.
And the chakra following me now was solid.
Around my level, maybe slightly higher.
Elite Jonin.
I grimaced under my mask.
Not unexpected.
After all, if this was from Hiruzen he would send someone high ranking to protect me and if Danzo found out about me he wouldn't send fodder after me
But it still meant I'd have to be serious.
I kept my pace steady, moving deeper into the forest, giving the tracker no reason to suspect that I was aware of him.
My group and I rarely communicated with each other. I think the Hokage and Tenz built this team this way so that no one would accidentally find out I was a Senju or Jinchurik.
Still, my mind worked overtime.
Who was it?
Which made sense, when I thought about it.
This game world—Elemental Nations Online—wasn't just a carbon copy of the Naruto anime.
It was bigger.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of characters existed here that had never even been mentioned in canon.
Jonin, Chunin, even civilian elites, all with their own stories, battles, ambitions.
Expecting to recognize every enemy... would have been stupid.
I thought back to Sora-sensei.
A man who didn't even exist in the original show.
A weapon-style master, one who has given me definite inspiration in which ways to continue strengthening myself.
Proof.
Proof that there were forces and people here that even my meta-knowledge couldn't predict.
Eventually everyone reached the site.
It didn't take long to find the gathering of Chunin.
Their chakra signatures were clustered together — like a tightly packed knot of power and tension, easy for even a casual sensor to pick up.
But with my bloodline...
I could instinctively tell something was off.
There weren't just Chunin here.
Beneath the surface layer, hidden deep in the folds of the forest, masked by faint suppression techniques, I could feel it.
Tens, if not hundreds, of Jonin.
All lying in ambush.
I stood still, hidden among the branches, letting the cool forest breeze wash over me as I processed it.
Not to say I was surprised.
After all, this world wasn't a script.
It wasn't designed to play fair.
But the real problem wasn't the ambush itself.
It was who the ambushers were.
Where the Mist Chunin just bait?
Were they luring us in so their Jonin could wipe us cleanly off the map?
Or...
Were they Root Ninja?
Danzo's dogs?
I could definitely rule out this being a Hokage operation.
For the past few months, every single official escort assigned to me by Hiruzen was a Peak Jonin at minimum.
They weren't the type to stage an ambush this messy, and I genuinely believed the Hokage didn't have the balls to do something like this.
There were a lot of fan-made theories about Hiruzen, but nothing was ever explained in the anime.
Theories about how he was actually a power hungry or senile Kage…I always leaned towards the later.
He was soft and manipulated…
Which meant...
This stank of Danzo.
Or it was an external Mist operation that had gotten incredibly lucky.
Either way, the outcome was going to be the same.
I closed my eyes briefly, painting the picture in my mind.
My squad — eleven in total — are all Anbu under the Hokage's command.
Sent here to intercept and disrupt the Mist scouting parties.
The Elite Jonin following me — a "babysitter," meant to ensure I didn't get captured or worse.
Possibly sent by Hiruzen. Possibly compromised…since you never know with Danzo.
The Mist Chunin — legitimate scouts, likely bait now.
Caught in something bigger than they realized.
The hidden Jonin — Root or Mist Jonin.
I smiled underneath my mask slightly…
None of them were walking away from this.
Because whether Danzo orchestrated this or the Mist planned it from the start, they made one critical mistake.
They underestimated me.
One of the Anbu perched across the tree line shifted slightly, the faintest rustle of cloth and chakra control reaching my ears.
"Cat," he called softly — using my codename. "What do we do?"
I tilted my head, gazing lazily down at the clustered Chunin below us. Not that anyone could see my expression behind the mask.
For a moment, I said nothing.
I just... watched.
Then, slowly, I turned toward my squad — the same squad I had spent the last few weeks fighting with.
They weren't just random faces anymore.
I knew their movements.
Their strengths.
Their quirks.
They trusted me, or at least I would like to think that.
And here I was... about to shatter that trust like glass.
A sour taste filled my mouth, and I had to force it down.
Even now, even after everything, even after being told by the so-called AI that "created" this world that it was real — that these people were real — I still sometimes killed without blinking.
Targets were targets.
Enemies were enemies.
That was how I rationalized it.
Even if, deep down, I knew some of them might not have deserved it.
Affiliation.
That was all it took.
One wrong banner.
One wrong allegiance.
And you were marked for death.
And now... my squad.
They would be next.
Because it wasn't about right or wrong anymore.
It wasn't even about survival.
It was about something larger.
Something more terrifying.
The fact that I could bring Matatabi into the real world — that was the real horror.
Nuclear winter.
Melted cities.
Dead oceans.
That was what Earth was now.
And having Jinchuriki in a world where the government thinks it smart to have Nuclear wars…to have walking weapons of destruction…Yeah no.
I couldn't let mistakes happen.
Not when the stakes were so high.
I let the silence stretch just a heartbeat longer, memorizing the feel of my team's presence.
The small details — the way Rhino twitched his fingers when tense, how Crow always shifted slightly onto his back foot before moving.
Good soldiers.
Good people.
"We'll go with Formation C," I said finally, my voice calm, steady.
No emotion.
Instantly, the squad moved.
A flurry of flickering afterimages.
They trusted my orders without question.
Body Flicker Technique activated as one.
A black wave of masked Anbu disperses through the trees to flank the "enemy."
That... would be the last time I interacted with them.
The last mission where I was still their comrade.
Since they wouldn't be able to survive Formation C.
What was Formation C?
Well, it was fairly simple.
Four people in the squad would use the same Earth Style jutsu to create something akin to a well —
— a deep, thick-walled pit designed to trap anything that stumbled into it.
Three others would then use coordinated Wind Style techniques to create intense, pressurizing gusts that swirled violently inside the makeshift well.
The idea was simple — startle the enemy, keep them pinned inside the vortex of the well, and prevent them from leaping or scaling out.
The remaining members...
They were getting ready…
They were standing on the top of the well-like structure, charging up lightning-based attacks.
And I myself?
I leaped high into the sky without even weaving a single hand seal...
And I dropped like a stone straight into the center of the well.
My squad didn't expect that.
Not in the slightest.
Normally, our tactics were simple and effective.
I would use my jutsu — [Water Style: Flashflood Surge] — to flood the interior of the well with a massive surge of water.
Then the others, perched above, would bombard the flood with coordinated lightning-style attacks, electrocuting anyone trapped below.
A mass-combined AoE attack.
Devastating against Chunin-level squads, even against weak Jonin.
But not today.
Today... I needed something more brutal.
Flashflood Surge wasn't going to kill everyone at once — not quickly enough.
And I had a bigger problem.
My squad was still up there...
High above the battlefield, waiting, watching.
I would have to deal with that soon.
"ATTACK!" one of the enemy Mist-nin finally screamed, realizing what was happening.
By the way — these guys were idiots.
You only just realized you were under attack?
The massive pit forming under your feet didn't tip you off?
The swirling chakra signatures?
The coordinated movement?
Really?
Pathetic.
"ATTACK!" one of the enemy Mist-nin finally screamed, realizing what was happening.
By the way — these guys were idiots.
You only just realized you were under attack?
The massive pit forming under your feet didn't tip you off?
The coordinated movement?
Really?
Wind-style jutsu buffeted my body from all sides.
Sharp cutting gales, heavy gusts — the works.
It didn't matter.
Most of them were C-rank or low B-rank attacks, fueled by chakra reserves barely stronger than mid-level Chunin.
My body was operating on an entirely different level with an Elite-Jonin physique
I slammed my palms into the cracked, muddy earth.
The ground vibrated under me, trembling like a wounded beast.
[Water-Style: Maelstrom Coffin]
A swirling, monstrous vortex of high-speed water exploded outward from my position.
The torrent snatched everything nearby — debris, rocks, unfortunate Mist-nin — and sucked it into the spinning abyss.
The currents were vicious.
Crushing bodies and breaking their bones. That sound filled the battlefield…other than the waves of course.
Shattering the gathered enemy forces like fragile twigs.
Maelstrom Coffin wasn't just a trap.
It was an execution method.
An advanced A-rank Water-Style Jutsu, pushed to the very edge of S-rank destructive power thanks to my high water element proficiency and sheer chakra force.
The enemies didn't even get the chance to scream properly.
In less than a second, dozens of Mist Chunin were dragged into the whirling death below, bodies twisted and broken.
The entire "well" structure collapsed with a deafening roar, foundations shattered beyond recognition.
Chunks of debris rained down in the chaos.
Some of the Anbu tried to leap onto the falling rubble, desperate to escape.
They almost made it.
Almost.
[Water-Style: Water Rope]
Streams of dense, chakra-enhanced water lashed outward from the collapsing vortex, each tendril snapping forward like a serpent.
Each rope snared a different Anbu by the ankles, calves, or wrists — yanking them violently downward.
Their attempts to escape turned into pitiful flails.
I jerked my hands downward, forcing the Water Ropes to pull harder.
Dragged screaming into the depths.
Dragged to their deaths.
...
Authors note:
You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator