Your Body Is a Template Chapter 12: Blood on White Stone

Moving along a path, we moved at a decent pace getting to the capital, and according to the others, we were about halfway there. Something that would have caught me off guard if it weren't for me getting a firsthand experience of how quickly I could traverse the mountains on my own. But there is a difference between a lone man using wall walking and a caravan of carts and a carriage. So with how fast the entire caravan is moving past all the mountains, it is surprising.

“Hey Hajima.”

“Hm.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. We were in the middle of the caravan near the edge of the pathway.

“The mountain paths we have been using that bridge the gaps between the mountains. Did the Lightning Daimyo have these developed to help make traversing the mountains easier?”

He blinked at my question, seeming caught off guard by it. “Some of them. The ones that were more bumpy and shorter, like the last one where the carts and carriage rattled as much as they did, were the ones the Daimyo had commissioned.”

“What about the other ones? Who had those built?”

The ones I referred to are the great bridges that look to be made of some kind of chalk-white stone, yet they, against all odds, remained standing despite the harsh elements of the mountains around them. They were unblemished compared to the walkways the Daimyo had commissioned to help travelers and traders traverse the mountains far quicker and safer.

They used long pillars of smooth stone beneath them to stay aloft in the air. Pillars that had no right to keep them held up as thin and narrow as they were. I was no architect, but even I knew that those pillars alone shouldn’t be enough to keep them in the air with how they were spaced so far apart.

Like with the actual bridge, the pillars showed no chips, cracks, or any sign of decay or the environment ravaging them. The bridges themselves had engravings along them of various scenes and images ranging from what looked like an otter or weasel with scythe-like claws flying through the air and something that looked similar to a deer surrounded by lightning with reptilian features. Others showed massive battles with notable figures standing out with elaborate armor.

There were many other images, but those few were the only ones I had time to take a good look at before having to keep up with the caravan.

Those bridges and paths that the Daimyo had commissioned were not as well made, nor did they last for any length of time, courtesy of the storms that would crop up occasionally and just the ravages of time and Mother Nature in general. Despite the ever-present dark clouds that never seemed to fade away in the distance, you could see lightning striking the tops of the mountains covered by the clouds. We were not struck by lightning.

One such path that we were traversing now that led up to one of those odd bridges. It was filled with holes, and parts of the edge had become chipped, with the edges of the mountain coming loose and falling further down the mountain.

The holes and random rocks make the journey for the carriage and carts more difficult than it needed to be, but to our collective relief, none of them had gotten a wheel stuck or broken. Seeing the state of this pathway, Gaman, who was staying by the lord’s carriage the entire journey so far, said something to one of the workers on a cart further ahead, who took a mirror and reflected what little light that came through the clouds off into the distance.

Not long after three quick beams of light were reflected back before movement came from above. I was ready to draw my sword when several men walked down the mountain slope to us. Some of the guards, like myself, were on edge before Gaman waved a hand for us to stand down, and I relaxed, if only slightly. We collectively moved aside, letting what I realized were workers for the country do their thing. I caught a glimpse of the holes in the road sealing back up, like the rock around them had become water and smoothed itself over.

The caravan continued moving forward, not as fast as before but more tolerably with the pathway now being cleaned up. Before long the road crew got up on the slope as we moved past them. I gave Hajima a look that all but said what I was thinking.

He leans closer and speaks quietly, “The mountain paths that are made under the Daimyo's orders are not like the bridges or paths that you have seen. There are workers trained in earth-style chakra techniques who are the ones who repair and clean up the pathways in different areas among the mountains. They rotate them out every couple of months. I heard it’s a rather profitable job, but it takes a lot of fortitude to stay up in the mountains with a handful of other people for each mountain.”

“Wow, that's actually smart.”

"Well, we are not stupid by any means. Only an idiot wouldn’t have people stationed to repair and maintain the pathways that make it far easier for traders to come and bring goods to our nation.”

I grimaced at what I had said, rubbing the back of my head with my mostly healed arm. “Sorry. Didn't mean anything by what I said, just used to people not having any common sense is all.”

My comment seemed to appease him when his frown turned into a small smile with a chuckle. "Yeah, I understand. I saw some questionable things myself as to why someone thought something was a good idea only for it to be anything but that.”

I can only nod at that. People will be people.

“But back to what I was asking before, if the Daimyo didn’t commission the other pathways and bridges, then who made them?”

Hajima's mirth faded away. He held an expression like he was trying to remember something. “All I do know is that they were here long before I was born or even my father and grandfather. You would have to ask the scholars or monks who study such things. Despite the difficulties they face trying to study them, it hasn't stopped them.”

After that we fell into a silence as we marched along with the caravan, yet my curiosity was not sated. I don’t think the Naruto series ever touched on something like this, but then again I wasn’t well versed when it came to Shippuden.

Coming across a particularly long bridge between two mountains that was almost reminiscent of the highways from my old world with how wide it was, allowing more room for the carts to no longer move in single file.

The carts moved to the center with me and the other guards staying on the edges as the first defense, as we have done every time we go across a bridge like this. I stood near the back with the newly hired guards. We neared the middle of the bridge as I marveled at the carvings and engravings along the gargantuan thing, but to my surprise, the caravan came to a stop.

The guards around me shifted uneasily.

“Why did the caravan stop?”

“What’s going on?”

“I can’t see!”

As they looked ahead, I looked back the way we came and saw at least a dozen people on the other side of the bridge.

Crap. An ambush.

“Behind us, weapons out. Now!” My voice, firm and decisive, got the others' attention as they looked back and saw the dozen figures approaching us.

Some of the guards hesitated, but a few showing some backbone and sense had their weapons at the ready, ranging from guns to their melee ones. The others cursing at themselves for getting into a situation like this got ready when they saw me and the few others ready to fight. As the figures came closer on foot, I got a better look at them.

Dressed in bluish-white armored plates with black body-sleeve suits under them, many of them have katanas on their persons. Ronin or samurai. Some had helmets with face plates obscuring their faces, with a handful of others having their faces shown to us.

One of them stepped forward, a young man who looked cocky, wearing a buzz cut on his head as he addressed us with a smile reminiscent of a used car salesman. “Your caravan has someone we want. The lord in the carriage. Lay down your weapons and you will be spared.”

Mumbles were heard all around me as the guards looked nervous. They looked between one another. I even debated whether it was worth it. We have the numbers, but these guys couldn’t be so stupid as to engage an enemy with superior numbers unless they knew they could win. After seeing what I could do with ki, if these guys were capable of using it, then the guards around me were going to die. And I don’t know what was happening at the front of the caravan.

So unless we have a large number of men lying in wait that can use any supernatural energies and are skilled enough to use them, we might be in trouble. The other issue I had was this man doing all the talking gave me some bad vibes. The kind you know you can’t trust. I could be wrong—

“They are ronin from the Land of Waves! Fight if you want to live!” The voice of Gaman was heard as if he were right next to me as the guards around me snapped out of their thoughts when they registered his words. The next second they readied their weapons.

“Land of Waves? They will kill us all even if we surrender.”

“Like hell I am dying like a bitch.”

“Don’t trust anything they say, and kill’em even if they beg for mercy.”

We all stayed in position as the Land of Waves ronin scowled before they had their swords at the ready as they looked over each of us like they were picking which prime piece of meat they would like to taste first. As I think of attacking first to gain the initiative, everyone's attention is drawn to the side as one of the guards drops to the ground with a kunai piercing his spine, followed by a spurt of blood.

My eyes widened seeing a Hidden Mist shinobi with a mask and the headband on their arm. The now-known trap unfolds with the ronin smiling at us.

“Watch the sides, shinobi!” I yelled out as I moved, seeing the shinobi weave through hand signs, only to stop with his head leaving his shoulders and a spray of blood erupting.

I don’t know why they want the client paying for this job. I don’t know how the shinobi managed to stay hidden from us under the bridge when we should have seen something. But I do know one thing.

There is going to be blood. Lots of it.

As soon as the shinobi had fallen to the ground and I was standing covered in blood, more of them came over the sides, tossing shuriken or kunai into the guards. Some had gone down, but most had managed to stay alive by getting hit in non-lethal areas, and a few even managed to dodge the weapons to the detriment of the guards behind them. The guards still standing fired their guns, with the loud booms making my ears ring.

None of the shinobi were even hit with them, simply stepping out of the way, and the less confident ones just went over the side of the bridge. It showed how much stronger I had become when my eyes could perceive the bullets, watching them fly through the air, leaving a wake in the air itself like a boat on the ocean.

One guard fired a rifle right towards the ronin that made the offer. The metal ball flew right towards the man, who just smiled away before his hand snapped out and grabbed the bullet between two fingers. With a finger flick, he sent the bullet right back at the guard, who fell down with a spray of blood, bone, and brain matter when a hole formed right in the middle of his forehead. The guy didn’t even have a chance to scream or cry out.

The ronin charged in, cutting down any guards in their way, moving like birds of prey attacking a bunch of helpless dodo birds. The guards tried to fight back, but it may as well have been for nothing. The ronin either avoided their swings with contemptuous ease or knocked the weapons aside and killed them.

I took down a second shinobi who hopped on one of the supply carts, cutting him in half from head to groin before turning and charging at one of the ronin as the few guards remaining continued to fight despite how outclassed they were. I placed my sword by my side before blitzing two ronin who were cackling at the guard they just killed, with my spirit flooding the length of the blade.

Running past them to another group as they continue laughing even when blood erupted where they lacked armor before falling silent. The rest of the ronins' attention snapped to me. Now aware of the threat before them, they moved to cut me down as one attempted to slash my neck and another went for my knees.

The air whistled at the speed of each strike. I leaned out of the way of the first strike and blocked the one aimed for my knees using the momentum of the blocked attack to immediately counter. One slash took both arms off, chi bypassing any physical defense the man would have had and moving to the other and blocking their follow-up strike and snaking past the blade lock as sparks briefly illuminated the man’s bloodshot eyes, filled with shock when his throat was slit.

Unlike the fight in the Land of Frost, there was no hesitation from me. Maybe a moment of remorse, but it faded away at the sight of several guards I had meals with being cut down.

Sensing the air behind me being disturbed, I moved my head to the side as a kunai sailed past, flying faster than the bullets being fired. Sheathing my sword and drawing it all in one smooth motion, I combined my spirit and life force to generate chakra, and what followed was a razor-sharp crescent made of wind slammed into a shinobi who, with a spray of blood, does his best Darth Maul impression, falling off the side of the bridge.

The one who offered us a chance to surrender doesn’t run towards me so much as he slides across the ground like he was on roller skates at an odd angle. Raising my sword and blocking just in time as the force of the blow surprised me when I took a step back.

In the time I was pushed back, he had moved back and came again for another strike from the side, and again he pushed me further back. There was no water or any means of propulsion that I could see, yet he sped away like he was on ice skates. Narrowing my eyes before putting my blade back and drawing it back out sends another wind blade, except this one was using my chi, the wind far more ethereal and wispy, like you were looking at a half-formed ghost. It flew right at the man before he swung his sword after a series of complex body movements that were half hidden by the bodysuit under his armor.

My eyes widened when he placed his palm on his sheath and water shot out of it like a fire hose before his sword slashed into it. The water, instead of breaking into mist from the fierce strike, instead formed around the edge of his blade. The water, now reshaped to mimic the edge of his blade, shot out like a missile.

The attack, despite being made from water, was anything but harmless as it hit my wind blade. The water didn’t overwhelm my attack and instead just passed through it like a man trying to punch a ghost. I dodged the attack with a quick burst of ki into my legs.

Like a burst water balloon, the attack landed, and far more water than what the attack should have had came out of it with great force, hitting me and the surviving guards, knocking most of them off their feet. Many of whom got carried away by it, screaming as they plummeted to their deaths over the side of the bridge.

Despite the water almost knocking me down, I manage to stay upright with chakra keeping me connected to the bridge and my template giving me greater strength, which is enough to just hold on against the rushing water. Even the carriages filled with supplies were getting pushed by it. Bringing my blade up and extending the reach of it to match that of a spear using chi, I slashed for the man's throat, who caused so much death, only for him to swerve out of the way of the strike as he rode the rushing water.

He looked like a surfer, and to my horror, the other ronin now mimicked him. Avoiding several thrown shuriken, I bent my body in a superb display of flexibility before sending several wind blades, but the shinobi had learned from the dead’s mistakes as they dodged. I can hear the rest of the caravan still fighting, but I don’t know how well they are faring compared to me.

For a brief moment I entertained the idea of fleeing. Possibly down the pillars of the bridge. But it is discarded knowing that they could follow me and I would be on my own then. For now I would stay and fight.

Several of the surfers came closer trying to cut me down. One circled around me like a shark that smelled blood. He lashed out in a blindingly fast strike that I blocked coming from the front, but the force was enough to send me sliding back, combined with the turbulent water making it difficult to stay standing even with Ki reinforcing me.

He cackled, going in for the kill, yet he didn’t notice until it was too late as a second blade appeared in a puff of smoke. Before anyone could do anything, one of his eyes was speared by a blade made from my own soul, extending from the tip of the sword. While chi didn’t give me any physical boosts like chakra or ki, it did have its own advantages compared to the other two.

It was far more malleable, like Clay taking whatever shape or form I needed it to. To top that off, it gave me an advantage over these guys when it could bypass their absurd durability, so if chakra were used, it would have been useless against them. I might be able to kill them using a gap in their armor.

The almost invisible blade vanished, and his body was swept off the bridge, going through the gaps of the stone rails with the last of the water.

Flourishing both blades in my hands, the shinobi behind and to my sides began to use water jutsu in the form of small droplets of water. They looked like bullets as I weaved around them, the small droplets impacting the stone bridge sounding like bullets hitting rocks as sparks formed where they struck.

The men in front were not idle as they all began to do that annoying ice skater impression. They moved around trying to throw me off on who was going to attack first.

Waiting while avoiding the shinobis' attacks before they stopped and gave up before moving on to the rest of the caravan. Probably realized they were in the way and not helping when their front-line fighters were pressuring me more than they were. One of the swordsmen moved to my side, and my eyes were on the others congregating on the other side.

He tried to rush me as his face broke out into a glee-filled smile. The broken sword was held up, pointing right at the man who had a look of concentration in his eyes before widening in horror as the chi blade thrusts out far longer and so fast. By the time he registered what was happening, his throat was impaled on the sword as his momentum carried his body forward along the semi-solid blade, turning the faint purple red as it dripped along the bridge and off the blade itself when the blood couldn’t remain attached to it.

He came to a stop halfway to me, gurgling as his hands rose briefly, grasping at the spiritual extension of my weapon, passing harmlessly through it before falling limp at his sides.

The rest of the group was halfway to me before, with a flick of the wrist, the construct tore itself free of the corpse's throat before sweeping out faster than something as long as it had any right to be capable of. Most of the men were too late to avoid it, besides only a handful.

The ones stuck midcharge had their legs cut at the knee, their armor doing nothing to stop the blade from cutting through it and their limbs. They fall to the ground, sliding and screaming, with trails of blood left in their wake.

The strongest amongst them leaped over and moved out of range with two others while the rest of their group twitched and crawled along the ground in pain. Leveling both swords at all of the fallen men before both swords had spears thrust into them, impaling each one in the head.

Good timing since one of them was with it enough to get himself together to try and use another one of those water blasts as he lay on his back. The tip of the blade curved and cleaved his head from his shoulders, and the water coming out of his sheath with no pressure or control over it plopped next to him, mixing with all of the blood as it flowed over the side of the bridge.

It looked like something out of a horror movie with the amount of blood and severed limbs, with the occasional body twitching on both sides, with the cries of the dying filling the air, acting as motivation for the living to not end up like them. The survivors stared back at me, looking for an opening like a pack of wolves while they crept closer, only to quickly retreat when a faint purple shimmer and a blade that was more like a whip snapped out like a serpent with great speed.

Sparks erupted on the bridge before the construct retracted, leaving behind a minor cut on the white rock dyed red from all the blood. It was the only form of damage the bridge had sustained by this point.

Using my sword in such a way was costly regardless of which energy I used. Ki took a physical toll, tiring me far more so than any form of exercise I ever had in my life before when abused beyond my limits. Chi, on the other hand, despite not giving me any physical boost that I got from ki or chakra, took a different toll on me.

The closest I could compare it to was how I was at the end of a long week of working at an old job. That mental state you found yourself in where you just weren’t all with it. It wasn’t the best example, but it was the only thing I could think to describe it as. My thoughts would become slow and not as coherent, a mental exhaustion taking hold, and to take it a step further, it felt like my soul was becoming emotionally heavy and burdened.

The kind that comes from a spiritual crisis of your faith or deep stress that made all the things you took joy from turn to a heavy darkness that presses down on you.

But I can keep it up for a little longer before I will have to be far more conservative with how I use any of it. The leader frowned, stalking back and forth like a wolf looking for any kind of opening. He had come to the realization he and his men can’t get close enough without getting cut down.

Even if they leapt over the first blade, the second, even if it cost me more to use it on a normal blade, even if I had run plenty of things through each sword as a sort of experiment, almost as if they were becoming like an extra limb that I couldn't properly move but felt like an extension of myself.

The energy ran through them, leaving a faint imprint, for lack of a better way to describe it, as I felt each blade. It had made them not as inefficient at wasting anything I pushed into them but still not as good as the broken blade. It would still kill them since it would be rather difficult to move while they were in midair if they avoided the first attack.

If he used that water attack again, then he ran the risk of knocking everyone else off the bridge, including the lord he was after. So he can only stay back as he growls through gritted teeth before his grimace turns into a knowing smirk that carries an edge to it.

“Well well well. Guess that number one you carry isn’t just for looks. You are the real number one, aren’t you?”

Not showing an outward reaction to his words, but internally I began to worry. The man seemed to pick up on it as his smile widened as the corners of his mouth nearly met his eyes.

“Ha! And to think I had believed you to be some random farmer who found himself a sword and tried to pass himself off as a dangerous man donning a fake number one headband.” He lowered his sword, rubbing his jaw, nodding to himself. “The Demon of the Mist will be happy…”

My heart stuttered a moment hearing that title he just uttered.

A laugh came out of me despite not feeling any amusement from this situation. “To think a ronin or whatever the hell you are thinks I am the number one! And here I thought you guys were smarter than you looked. Then again you should have had us dead to rights, and instead your ambush failed miserably.” A cocky smirk made its way onto my face as I tried to dissuade him of the notion that I am number one.

Despite knowing it had a good chance of failing to convince him, it can’t hurt to try to goad him and the other two into attacking so I can kill them before they can tell Zabuza I am with the caravan. That’s if he was even here. For all I know, he was trying to psyche me out.

“Why you–”

The man held his hand up, silencing his ally. “Enough. This fight is over.” His eyes narrowed at me. Well, at least I know I struck a nerve.

Behind us a pattern of whistles was heard across the bridge before they started retreating as they went over the sides of the bridge after a moment of hesitation, with the ronin who turned and rushed back, moving to the end of the bridge where we had come from faster than a man could blink.

I breathed heavily, not having noticed how tired I was or the pain coming from my legs and waist.

Turning back to see the caravan in chaos before moving to go and help them.