My Techniques are a bit off

Three days later, afternoon, Land of Rivers.

A convoy escorting the son of the Daimyō of the Land of Rivers was traveling along a dusty road.

What in the world is that thing? one of the armored samurai glanced uneasily at the dark figure trailing the carriage. It wasn't just dark-skinned like the people of the Land of Lightning, whom he'd seen before—it was pitch black, its eyes, nose, and mouth indistinguishable. It looked less human and more like a living shadow.

The samurai shuddered, unable to shake the eerie feeling, but he quickly turned his attention forward when the boy with the dark circles under his eyes whispered, "Someone's approaching."

The convoy came to a halt, and the guards raised their weapons.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!" More than twenty masked shinobi surrounded the carriage but did not immediately attack. Their leader removed his mask, revealing a middle-aged face—it was a ninja from the Land of Rivers.

The samurai lowered their swords, signaling the situation was safe to the Konoha and Sunagakure shinobi. One of the guards entered the carriage to confer with the Daimyō's son.

Link, standing atop the carriage, silently observed. Something felt off. If these ninjas had come to escort the Daimyō's son, why had they waited until now? The convoy had been traveling through the Land of Rivers for weeks. They should have shown up much earlier.

The Daimyō's son emerged from the carriage, smiling warmly, and invited the leader of the shinobi inside for a private conversation. It was clear he didn't want "outsiders" overhearing their discussion.

Recognizing the implied request, Link stepped back, motioning for his team to distance themselves from the carriage as well.

"Bang! Crack!"

Within moments, a burst of force tore the carriage apart. The middle-aged ninja who had entered was sent flying out, crashing into the dirt. Inside the wrecked carriage, the Daimyō's son huddled in a corner, two shadow figures flanking him protectively.

Are they here to assassinate him? Kidnap him? Or perhaps this is an attempt by the rebels to negotiate surrender? Link pondered.

He didn't intervene yet. His shadows had already infiltrated beneath the attackers' feet. Ending the battle would take only a single command.

Not to brag, Link thought, but even if there were 200 of them, a small nation's ninjas wouldn't stand a chance.

The middle-aged ninja spat blood as two comrades helped him up. His eyes, full of hatred, locked onto Link—or rather, the Konoha headband he wore.

Despite their leader's defeat, the other River ninjas didn't hesitate. They charged forward, determined and unrelenting.

"Thud! Thud! Thud!"

In unison, 26 bodies hit the ground. Shadows erupted from beneath their feet, pinning them all down. A few tried to use substitution jutsu to escape but failed. Their physical capabilities were far below Link's shadow clones, modeled after a special jonin.

The youngest samurai gulped audibly, the sound unnervingly loud in the quiet clearing.

Link walked forward, surveying the furious faces of the pinned ninjas. In a calm voice, he said:

"Now, can we have a proper discussion about why the weak choose to fight?"

Kakashi-level cool, Kankuro thought, resisting the urge to whistle. He made a mental note to use that line in the future.

How charismatic, thought Temari, her eyes practically sparkling as she admired Link's composed demeanor. As a kunoichi raised in the harsh conditions of Sunagakure, she deeply respected strength, intelligence, and elegance—all traits Link seemed to embody.

The middle-aged ninja coughed and snarled, "Just kill us already, you Konoha lapdog!"

Smiling faintly, Link glanced at the Daimyō's son. As a bodyguard, it wasn't his place to act without his client's consent.

The Daimyō's son, shaken but recovering, stepped forward. Expressing gratitude with his eyes, he asked the ninja leader loudly:

"If you want my life, just tell me why. I'll give it to you willingly."

"Your Highness!" a samurai protested, hesitating to intervene.

The middle-aged ninja closed his eyes in pain, then opened them, his voice heavy with despair:

"Your Highness, the Land of Rivers is finished. The capital fell three days ago."

The Daimyō's son paled as if struck by lightning. "That's impossible! How could the rebels breach the northern defenses of—"

"We surrendered." The ninja's bitter words cut him off.

…

At the Border of the Land of Rivers

"Whoosh!"

A man with golden hair, clad in a black cloak adorned with red clouds, landed gracefully. He wore a ring inscribed with the kanji for "blue." Beside him, a hunched figure seemed to cling to the ground like a shadow.

"Sasori," the golden-haired man said, smirking. "No need to rush."

The hunched figure, addressed as Sasori, glanced at his companion. "The capital fell three days ago. If we delay further, we might face an entire nation's forces, Deidara."

"Heh~" Deidara's grin widened maliciously. "Then let's just destroy the whole country. Show them what art truly is—"

Sasori ignored the comment. "Beyond the leader's orders, I need to check on our agent near Orochimaru. It seems he has significant plans underway here in the Land of Rivers."

"Why not just kill Orochimaru and reclaim 'Ku (Sky, Void)' while we're at it?" Deidara suggested, practically bouncing with excitement. "Blow everyone we don't like sky-high!"

"You just want an excuse to cause chaos," Sasori replied icily.

"What's wrong with that? Don't you want the world to see your art—"

Their voices faded as the duo vanished.

~~~

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