Easy Chapter 784 Run!

The north wind rustled, and heavy snow began to fall from the sky.

"It just stopped, and now it's starting again! This weather!" Karui, a dark-skinned Kunoichi with fiery red hair, looked up at the vast white sky and complained.

"Maybe the enemy has already used the snow to escape. Or maybe they've set traps somewhere, waiting for us." Omoi, with his white short hair and tan skin, spoke pessimistically, looking utterly listless.

"You idiot!"

Bang!

Karui punched Omoi hard, scolding him.

"Can you stop with the negative talk? It's annoying."

The trio's footsteps left messy prints in the snow.

Samui knelt down, brushing away the thick snow in the forest to reveal barely noticeable traces of blood. Her expression turned grave, ‘The snow hadn't stopped for long… the enemy couldn't be far.’

After all, they were only flesh and blood. No matter how skilled they were, Kumogakure wasn't made of clay.

"Shut up!" Samui turned and glared coldly at her two disappointing subordinates, "The enemy isn't far. Stay alert, or you won't even know how you die."

‘These two are so uncool as Shinobi.’ She mentally added.

Kumogakure wasn't very large… It’s an isolated aerial island built on a mountain peak, growing steeper toward the back mountains. Following the blood trail, Samui and her team pressed forward, encountering more and more bodies.

…

Chojuro turned over a frozen, stiff corpse, and his expression changed. Even though he had seen many corpses, he couldn't hold back a dry heave.

"What's wrong, Chojuro?" Ao, who had fortunately obtained a Byakugan, hurried over. His gaze lowered, and he saw the corpse, "This is..."

The face was gone, the head crushed into a mangled mess… a horrifying sight.

"The enemy has changed. This batch is stronger than the previous White Zetsu." The Mizukage, Terumi Mei’s voice came through. Her figure was elegant, each step graceful.

"Are they... evolving?" Ao's face paled, a chill running down his spine.

"This isn't a power ordinary people possess. The bones and flesh were crushed together." Chojuro shuddered, his voice tinged with fear.

"Yesterday... no, the day before, this place had already fallen, hadn't it?" Mei's expression remained neutral as she knelt to examine the corpse closely.

"Mei-sama…" Chojuro called out.

"It's fine. The body is frozen, so there's no danger." Mei said lightly, not turning back as she ordered, "Chojuro, Ao, return to the village immediately and organize ten elite squads. I have a use for them."

"Yes," they replied in unison.

…

Twenty miles beyond the Valley of the End was the Forest of the Sages, where Konoha had set up a defensive line.

Moriwa was just a veteran Chunin, with his entire family in the north. Counting from the time he first entered the battlefield, it had been nearly forty years.

Surviving from the Third Shinobi World War until now was no small miracle.

The Land of Fire had been peaceful for too long, almost twenty years, making people forget what war was like. He had spent day after day stationed at the border, drowsy and idle, just passing the time.

But the war came so swiftly. A single transfer order from the village pulled him from the northern front line of Konoha to the west. Many around him shared similar experiences, having been transferred from the southwest or even further south.

He couldn’t grasp the broader strategy, but after years stationed at the border, Moriwa could faintly sense that this mission might be unusually dangerous. The enemy was exceptionally fierce, forcing Konoha to recall troops and tighten its defenses.

This had never happened before. Even in the village’s most dire moments, they had never withdrawn forces from the border. At first, he was tense, seeing enemies in every shadow.

Comrades from the north liked to tease him, whistling and saying he was as jumpy as a woman, scared out of his wits. Moriwa didn’t mind. He’d shrug and joke that if he turned into a woman, he’d let his buddies have some fun.

For four or five days, the defense line remained quiet.

He gradually let his guard down. He also discovered a small village of about thirty households not far from the line.

A clever little girl, around ten years old, often boldly approached the camp to sell alcohol.

Moriwa had bought from her a few times. Seeing her sneak up to the camp again, he couldn’t help but smile, ‘My daughter is about her age, but not nearly as clever… always quiet and hiding from people.’

He bought some alcohol and placed an order for the next day. The camp rules were lax, so having a drink after duty was fine. The girl smiled sweetly and nodded vigorously.

“Then I’ll come again tomorrow!”

“Come on, come on.” Moriwa chuckled.

…

Night fell. Screams erupted from the western end of the defense line. By the time Moriwa realized something was wrong, it was too late.

The sky above the western forest glowed red with fire. The heat melted the snow along the defense line.

Shinobi rushed over. Hordes of White Zetsu clawed their way out of the icy river, attacking the village beside it. The entire village descended into chaos, corpses swallowed by flames.

When Moriwa arrived, he saw a villager’s chest torn apart by a White Zetsu, half their body already shattered. Blood mist drifted through the firelight, and the howling wind drowned out even the screams.

He roared, drew his sword, and charged forward… his heart a mix of fear and rage.

He didn’t fully understand why he was so angry. Perhaps it was the villagers’ gruesome deaths, or perhaps he knew he would die tonight.

He had always boasted about his experience surviving the battlefield, sometimes even believing he was somehow special, protected by some divine favor.

A cold sensation pierced his abdomen. Before he could look down, adrenaline granted him a few seconds. Before the pain reached his brain, he slashed and killed the White Zetsu in front of him.

But before he could turn, something slammed into half his head. With a thud, he collapsed. One of his eyes remained open, while the other half of his skull was gone.

He wanted one last look… one final glimpse of the world. War was never fair, he knew that. But he couldn’t accept it. Then he saw her, the girl who sold alcohol, pushing open a door from the ruins and sprinting toward him.

Two vicious White Zetsu chased her. Those things couldn’t even be called monsters anymore. He tried to move but realized he was dying. All he could do was scream silently in his mind, ‘Run!’

The fading ember of his life flickered for a few more seconds. Only one thought remained, ‘Run.’

Just as the White Zetsu were about to catch the girl, a deafening, furious roar echoed through the air. A massive crimson sphere descended, shaking the earth like a falling sun.

A final spark of light ignited in his dimming eyes. His remaining eye widened, fixed unblinkingly on the giant sphere... as it unfurled nine tails.