The trio pressed onward—Natsuki, Rumi, and their companion, the giant armadillo lizard Sousuke.
Their path led them into the heart of the Thunder Plains—a vast, haunted expanse of open field.
Countless weapons littered the plains, jutting out of the earth like grave markers. Massive swords, shattered spears, and weather-worn halberds stabbed into the soil at odd angles, their blades rusted and long forgotten.
A war had been fought here.
And something worse had survived it.
Sousuke dashed through the terrain with surprising speed for a beast of his size. Each thunderous step echoed like a drum, kicking up clouds of dust and pollen. On his back, Natsuki remained steady, one arm wrapped gently around the small girl nestled behind him.
Rumi held onto the back of his kimono, her small fingers trembling slightly.
The scent of Repellent Herb—strong, bitter, and earthy—trailed behind them, carried on the wind. It wasn't a perfect shield, but it was enough to confuse the weaker oni.
For now, they moved unseen.
They moved alive.
"…Mr. Natsuki?"
Rumi's soft voice cut through the silence like a whisper in the wind.
"What is it?" he asked without turning.
"…How did Mama get sick?"
Natsuki didn't answer right away.
His eyes darkened.
Memories surfaced before he could stop them—images he had tried to bury. Images that clawed their way back, vivid and merciless.
---
A towering figure in crimson.
A kimono embroidered with twisting flowers and blood-drenched vines.
A woman—no… something far worse.
A being that walked with the elegance of royalty and killed with the cruelty of a demon.
She didn't speak. She commanded.
And nature obeyed.
Thorns rained from the sky like arrows.
Men screamed.
Samurai fell.
Ninja were torn apart by carnivorous plants that bloomed beneath their feet and devoured them whole.
She stood at the center of the chaos, untouchable, unbothered.
Watching. Smiling.
---
Natsuki exhaled slowly, bringing himself back to the present.
"…She wasn't sick, Rumi," he said at last. "She was poisoned."
Rumi blinked up at him, eyes wide.
"Poisoned? By who?"
"…By an oni"
"Oh! Aren't those the monsters samurai like my father fight?" Rumi asked, her voice bright despite the heaviness in the air.
Natsuki didn't answer right away.
Her words struck deeper than she could possibly understand.
His gaze lowered, eyes shadowed beneath his bangs. Each mention of Ino's fate felt like a dagger in his ribs.
> "It should've been me…"
"She didn't deserve that fate. Not her."
"And now… her daughter's motherless. Because I failed."
He gritted his teeth, holding the reins tighter as Sousuke pressed forward.
"Mr. Natsuki? Mr. Natsuki!" Rumi called again, tugging urgently on the back of his kimono.
"Huh? Ah—sorry, Rumi." He blinked, shaking free of the guilt flooding his chest. "I was just… lost in thought."
Rumi pointed ahead with wide, curious eyes.
" Mr Natsuki what's that?"
Natsuki followed her finger—
—and froze.
High above, something massive was hurtling through the sky.
A swirling black-and-gray sphere screamed through the sky—aimed straight at them.
"Damn it!" Natsuki barked, leaping off Sousuke's back. His sandals skidded against the scorched earth as he thrust his palm forward.
"Gale Burst!"
A roar of wind exploded from his outstretched hand, slamming into the sphere mid-air. With a deafening crack, the orb detonated into a choking cloud of cinders and soot.
Fwoooosh—
"Cough—cough!!" Natsuki choked, covering his mouth. "it's Ash magic…"
He landed hard in front of Sousuke, shielding Rumi with one arm as the thick gray mist spiraled away.
Then—he saw it.
Emerging from the ashes like a nightmare from legend—
A towering, red-skinned giant.
Eight feet tall, shoulders broad like mountain ridges. Four jagged fangs jutted from its snarling mouth. Black horns curled back over its skull, and down its muscled chest slithered the image of a coiling dragon—inked into skin like molten coal.
Behind it, a burning cloud of ash drifted like a funeral shroud.
Natsuki's blood ran cold.
"No… no, no, not now. Not here…" he whispered under his breath, fists clenched, eyes wide.
The red oni let out a laugh that rumbled across the plains like a thunderclap.
"Well, well… Nightwalker Natsuki. Fate really is funny," the oni sneered, its voice like grinding stone. "And here you are… guarding my target. Hand over the girl—and I'll make your death painless."
He raised a massive finger and pointed it directly at Rumi.
"Mr. Natsuki… w-what is that thing?!" Rumi cried out, her voice shaking.
Natsuki stood protectively in front of her, getting ready to draw his blade.
"Gamakichi. The Red Oni of Ash and Flame," he growled. "One of the High-Blooded… and one of the most ruthless."
He didn't turn around as he spoke again—his tone sharp and commanding:
"Sousuke, take Rumi. Get her to Shin-kage Village. Now."
The giant armadillo lizard hesitated, claws digging into the dirt. He didn't want to run. Not when his master faced a monster.
"I said go!" Natsuki roared.
Sousuke flinched—then bolted, wind howling behind him as he disappeared into the plains, Rumi clutching his back and screaming, "Mr. Natsuki! Don't leave me!!"
Gamakichi began weaving hand signs, ash swirling around his fingertips.
"Claw of Ash and—"
BOOM!
An explosion cut through the incantation—Natsuki had thrown a fire bomb at the oni's chest, detonating with a sharp blast that tore off his right arm in a spray of molten flesh and ash.
"AAARGHHH!"
"You arrogant little pest!!" Gamakichi roared, smoke spiraling from his torn stump.
But Natsuki's eyes narrowed as the oni's wound began to bubble and twist. Sinew and bone reformed—regenerating—until a brand-new arm emerged, flawless and steaming.
"Tch… this is exactly why I hate fighting high-ranking oni," Natsuki muttered, as he pulled his kunai from a pouch on the back of his hip.
"Blade of Cinder."
With a low, rumbling growl, a massive katana formed in Gamakichi's grip—twisting and shaping itself from the ash swirling at his feet. The blade was pitch black, jagged at the edges, and pulsing with infernal heat. Trails of smoke hissed off its edge like venomous steam.
He grinned.
"it's Been a long time, Nightwalker. But this time… you don't have that samurai or that harlot to shield you."
Natsuki's eyes sharpened. His lips curled downward, face twisting into a snarl of pure, unfiltered hate.
"Watch your mouth, beast."
Gamakichi laughed—a low, guttural sound like stones grinding together.
"Did I strike a nerve?" he taunted, licking his cracked lips. "What was her name again? Ah, right… Ino. Sweet, delicate little thing. Master Sakura's poison should've done its work by now. She's probably rotting in a bed as we speak."
Something inside Natsuki snapped.
In an instant, he launched forward—vanishing from sight in a burst of wind. Dust exploded behind him, his kunai drawn tight in his hand, glowing with spiraling currents of energy.
"Wind Dragon Style: Air Current Slash!"
He slashed through the air.
Dozens of compressed wind blades erupted from his motion, each one sharp enough to cut steel, howling like angry spirits as they surged toward the red oni.
WHOOOOOSH!
The ground split beneath their path.
Gamakichi raised his ash-forged katana, meeting the storm head-on.
CLANG—CLANG—CLANG!
Each wind slash collided with his weapon in rapid succession—sparks flying, shockwaves exploding outward. For every attack blocked, another roared past him, carving deep gashes in the terrain.
In seconds, the battlefield became a war zone. Ancient weapons were blown from the ground. Halberds spun through the air. Old bones cracked under the pressure. The Thunder Plains trembled beneath their power.
"GRAHHH!" Gamakichi shouted as the final wind blade slammed against him, forcing him back several meters, his feet dragging deep trenches in the dirt.
"You fight like a man with nothing left to lose!" the oni roared, gripping his katana with both hands now.
Natsuki stood tall, wind surging around his body—his hair whipping like a banner in the storm.
"I don't, takes to your kind " he growled, eyes glowing with fury. "I already lost everything."
The air responded to him.
It bent around him—twisting, howling, answering his rage. His presence distorted the world itself. Every breath he took seemed to pull the winds closer.
The red oni narrowed his eyes.
"…Interesting."
The wind howled.
The plains stilled.
And then—
They clashed again.
Natsuki's kunai clashed against Gamakichi's ash blade, the metal screeching as sparks scattered into the wind.
Then—Gamakichi raised his free hand.
"Ash and Cinder Volcanic Spear."
From the swirling ashes around him, a massive spear began to form—black as coal, its surface veined with molten cracks. Flames pulsed from within the weapon like a living heart. The spear radiated unbearable heat, each breath Natsuki took burning like fire in his lungs.
"Damn it… I can't dodge this one. He's too close," Natsuki thought, gritting his teeth.
Before he could retreat, the spear was already in motion.
SHUNK!
The weapon tore through the air—and through him.
Natsuki tried to parry with his kunai, but the worn blade shattered on impact. The spear slammed through his chest, piercing straight through with a wet crunch.
"GRAAAHHH!!"
He screamed in agony, his blood bursting from the wound like a crimson fountain. The ground was painted in red. His knees buckled. His breath hitched.
He was dying.
"No… I can't… die here," Natsuki gasped, vision blurring, strength slipping through his fingers like sand. "I can't… leave Rumi… all alone…"
His legs gave out, body crumpling to the ground. The wind that once raged around him fell silent. His aura dimmed. The light in his eyes flickered.
Gamakichi stepped over him, sneering.
"Hah… Pathetic," he spat, twisting the spear free with a sickening schlk. "Without those two by your side, you're nothing. I always wondered how you killed so many of the oni elite… but now I get it."
He kicked Natsuki's body aside like discarded meat.
"It wasn't you—it was that woman. That damn Ino. And her bastard samurai husband."
Gamakichi spit on Natsuki's motionless body, then turned his back.
The wind blew softly through the field, carrying away the scent of blood.
He raised a clawed hand, summoning a dark crow made entirely of ash. Its wings flapped silently, ember feathers trailing behind like smoke.
"Find the girl," he ordered.
The crow took to the sky, glowing red eyes scanning the horizon—until it spotted her.
High above the plains, it saw Rumi—clinging tightly to Sousuke's back, the giant armadillo lizard thundering across the scorched earth toward Shin-Kage Village.
Gamakichi grinned.
"They haven't reached the barrier yet… Perfect."
With a gesture, he conjured a massive ash-forged beast beneath his feet—shaped like a black, twisted war-boar with tusks made of cinder.
The moment it solidified, he leapt on its back.
"Let's finish this," he growled.
The ash beast charged forward, kicking up a storm of soot and fire as Gamakichi raced after his prey.
As Gamakichi disappeared into the distance, leaving Natsuki's broken body behind, the battlefield fell eerily silent.
Then—the ground beneath him began to ripple.
Thick, black liquid seeped up from the soil, oozing like ink across the cracked earth. It encircled Natsuki's lifeless form, bubbling and hissing with unnatural heat.
From its depths, a tall, lanky figure slowly emerged.
Cloaked in shadows, it wore a white fox mask, a flowing white kimono stained at the hem with ink, and a massive gourd strapped to its back—twisting with runes that pulsed softly in the dark.
The masked figure stepped silently toward Natsuki's corpse.
It knelt.
Rubbed its gloved hands together with excitement.
"Mmm… yes," it whispered in a strange, melodic voice. "This body… will make a perfect host for my king's reincarnation."
A low hum echoed through the air.
The figure leaned closer, lifting its mask just enough to expose a mouth and nose. It inhaled deeply—drawing in Natsuki's scent.
The moment the breath passed through its nose—a rush of memories flooded in.
Paintings. Battles. A woman's smile. A child's laugh. A blade soaked in blood. A storm of wind.
The masked figure trembled.
"Yesss… you're compatible," it purred. "An expert artist. A skilled fighter. A true shinobi. And… oh?"
It paused, voice turning sharp.
"You're from that clan? Even better… what a rare specimen."
The figure raised one hand. The black liquid began to spiral upward, condensing into a marble-sized orb—pure, dense, and thrumming with sinister energy.
A black pearl.
"You'll serve well as a vessel… for my master—Yamamoto's—reincarnation."
With no hesitation, the masked figure opened Natsuki's mouth and placed the pearl on his tongue.
The reaction was instant.
WHOOOOM—
A shockwave of ink burst out in all directions. Natsuki's body convulsed as a cocoon of hardened black shell enveloped him, sealing his form inside.
Then—
His eyes snapped open.
Glowing a deep, hellish red.
His chest rose sharply as if taking breath for the first time in years.
The air trembled.
> [HOST IDENTIFIED]
[COMPATIBILITY: 100%]
[INK MASTER SYSTEM IS NOW ONLINE]
"Yes! Yes!" the cloaked figure cackled, vanishing back into the shadows. Its voice echoed like a curse across the Thunder plains.
And with one final, disembodied whisper—
"Take care of that power… until my master returns."
Natsuki erupted from the shell, drenched in darkness, reborn.