Chapter 49
Masamura Oki and three teammates approached swiftly.
"Asakawa, have the enemies been dealt with?" Oki asked.
"For now, yes," Asakawa Naoki replied, eyes sharp. "But those ronin were likely just the vanguard. Stay alert."
On the other side, the caravan leader Sawaki Koichi finally arrived, worn and resentful after being woken twice that night. He had been roused unwillingly and was itching to complain—until he saw the four dead ronin lying silently nearby.
His anger drained, replaced by shock and a shiver that ran through his body.
"Who are these?" Sawaki Koichi's voice lost its usual arrogance, replaced by caution.
These weren't just some kids playing ninja — they had killed four armed, grown men without a sound. If these young ninjas wanted to kill him, they wouldn't hesitate.
Suddenly, Sawaki realized his life and the caravan's safety depended entirely on these children who had just graduated ninja school, barely ten years old.
"Ronin who tried a surprise attack," Asakawa answered shortly. Then he ordered, "Gather the caravan members. We can't protect so many if they stay scattered."
Zemu Koichi nodded, accepting his place under Asakawa's command for now. The presence of enemies changed everything—he was no longer in charge.
Once the caravan was rounded up, Asakawa formed three teams of nine Genin each, stationing them in a tight circle around the caravan, ready to respond no matter which direction the threat came from.
He trusted Namikaze Minato, Uchiha Mikoto, and Uzumaki Kushina implicitly — with them on two flanks and himself on the third, their defense formed a steel wall. Each team's strength balanced, no weak link.
"What's next?" Naoki asked.
"We wait," Asakawa said, voice low but steady. "The enemy holds the advantage in darkness — they control the initiative. We can't rush and risk falling into their trap."
He put himself in the enemy's shoes. If he were the attacker, how would he proceed?
After losing the four ronin in a silent strike, the enemy must know the opposition is strong. They won't waste their strength on a reckless assault. The best moment to strike would be just before dawn, when fatigue sets in and alertness wanes.
Still, he couldn't be certain. The enemy might be mindless brutes who rush blindly, but their tactics so far—using refugees as scouts, sending precise sneak attacks—suggested otherwise.
"I estimate the attack will come at dawn," Asakawa told the teams. "There are about four hours until then. Each team will rotate rest: two rest while one stays alert. Try to catch at least two hours of sleep before dawn."
Minato and Mikoto agreed, and the teams settled into tense rotations. Asakawa himself tried to rest but only managed a light nap, ordering Nawaki and Masamura Oki to stay alert for two hours.
Rest was more about easing nerves than real sleep — their first mission, their first real enemy. None of them could truly relax.
In the distance, faint under the pale moonlight, Jiraiya lay silently on a tree branch, eyes sharp. The ninjas had let the initial spy slip, but their response after was impressive. For their first mission, they were holding strong. They were promising.
As the sky began to lighten toward dawn, Asakawa, ever vigilant, caught the faintest sound—a whisper of movement.
"Wake up! Enemy attack!"
His shout snapped everyone awake—caravan members and ronin alike.
The ronin had no choice but to strike now, the cover of night slipping away. Their leader raised a long sword, rallying more than a dozen warriors.
"Kill! Take all the food and weapons!"
They charged from Asakawa's direction—bold but risky.
"Wait until they're in range. Then throw shuriken!" Asakawa ordered sharply.
"Got it!" Rope Tree and Masamura Oki nodded. Rope Tree's hands trembled. Before this mission, he'd never killed anything—let alone a person. But now there was no turning back.
Minato and Mikoto arrived on the wings, ready to share the fight.
"Asakawa, attack!" The word was given.
In unison, dozens of shuriken flew through the dim dawn light.
The ronin raised swords, blocking some, but many found their marks. Without chakra to sense or deflect, they were exposed.
As more ronin fell, Naoki's guilt for killing faded—replaced by fierce anger.
"What the hell!" he shouted. "They're using villagers as shields!"
In the growing light, seven ronin grabbed ragged villagers, pushing them ahead as human shields to clear a path.
They knew the shurikens were deadly—and hoped innocent lives would protect them.
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