Naruto: One Eye Tenseigan

Over the subsequent days, Tomaru's methodical research within the clandestine archives of Iwagakure unearthed invaluable insights. His Tenseigan granted him access to encrypted scrolls and long-forgotten manuscripts.

Tomaru's work was meticulous, each discovery revealing fragments of hidden truths about the world. Yet his progress was abruptly disrupted by an intrusive telepathic message, a sharp voice reverberating within his consciousness.

"Tomaru," Karin's voice resonated with urgency, employing the Yamanaka clan's advanced Mind Body Transmission Technique. This highly specialized jutsu enabled seamless communication over vast distances, a capability Tomaru had analyzed during his observations of Ino in Konoha. He had deconstructed its mechanisms and forged his own variant by embedding subtle chakra marks onto individuals, creating a direct telepathic conduit.

Tomaru's innovation drew inspiration from the Yamanaka technique and his Puppet-Cursing Sphere Technique, which utilized chakra manipulation for multifaceted purposes. His unique approach eliminated the dependency on physical proximity, instead relying on residual chakra markers that facilitated instantaneous communication across great distances. This refinement enhanced both efficiency and tactical flexibility, bypassing the traditional constraints of synchronized chakra networks.

The Mind Body Transmission Technique played a pivotal role in the Fourth Great Ninja War, orchestrated by Inoichi Yamanaka to establish an unparalleled communication network spanning continents. This system not only coordinated Allied Shinobi Forces but also infiltrated enemy ranks, extracting critical intelligence on troop movements and strategies. For Tomaru, the potential applications of such an ability presented a transformative tool for espionage and strategic operations.

"Tomaru," Karin's voice intruded again, her mental tone strained yet resolute. "The foreman met someone suspicious. I couldn't approach closely, but the chest he carried… it bore this symbol."

Through their mental link, Karin projected an image—a sigil resembling Takumi Village's emblem. Tomaru's brows furrowed; the symbol was unmistakably tied to the enigmatic village.

While Karin's knowledge was limited, Tomaru had gleaned extensive information about Takumi Village from the Naruto lore. Far from being a mere artisan settlement, Takumi Village harbored a dark legacy as a hub for weaponry innovation. Its craftsmen produced tools so advanced they threatened the balance of power among the Hidden Villages, often attracting violent reprisals from their larger neighbors.

Such historical tensions shaped Takumi Village into an entity with dual identities: a bastion of craftsmanship and a repository of grievances. Despite its contributions to ninja warfare, the village faced repeated betrayals, fueling a narrative of resentment among its inhabitants. This resentment, coupled with unparalleled ingenuity, made Takumi an unpredictable and potentially formidable player in the ninja world.

"I'm tracking them now," Karin concluded, her mental presence steady despite the underlying urgency.

Tomaru's thoughts sharpened. "Maintain your distance and avoid detection. I'll join you shortly."

Her concise report, though fragmentary, hinted at a deeper conspiracy. Tomaru's intuition aligned this development with whispers from the Iwa archives: covert dealings between Iwagakure and Takumi Village, involving the exchange of rare materials for experimental weaponry. The scrolls even suggested the existence of prototypes capable of reshaping the geopolitical landscape.

Sealing his latest findings, Tomaru activated the Dustless Bewildering Cover Technique, erasing his physical and sensory presence entirely. Invisible to even the most adept sensors, he navigated through Iwa's formidable defenses and set his course southward toward Kyoseki Mining Town.

Hours later, Tomaru reached a desolate ridge overlooking Kyoseki Mining Town. The barren terrain was marked by scattered structures and jagged ravines, where miners toiled under the harsh supervision of foremen. Through his heightened perception, he discerned faint chakra signatures converging toward the eastern ravines.

The soft rustle of foliage behind him signaled a familiar presence. Karin emerged, her breath measured but her energy visibly taxed. She adjusted her glasses—a habitual gesture that belied her underlying fatigue—and approached with calm determination.

"I've located him," she reported, her voice tinged with quiet urgency. "The man is heading toward the eastern ravines, accompanied by two others."

Tomaru scrutinized her closely, noting the strain on her chakra reserves. Despite the prolonged exertion, she maintained an impressive composure, her efficiency undiminished by the rigors of her mission.

"You've done well," he acknowledged, his tone measured but laced with genuine approval. Before she could respond, his voice hardened with authority. "Rest now. You've fulfilled your role. I'll handle the rest."

"But I—"

Karin's lips parted in protest, but Tomaru's commanding tone cut her off. "You'll be a liability if you push yourself further. Conserve your energy—I might need your support later."

Reluctantly, Karin acquiesced, retreating to a safe distance. Before disappearing into the shadows, she cast him a final, wary glance. "Be careful, Tomaru. Something about this feels… wrong."

Turning eastward, Tomaru refocused on his target. Below, a figure clutched a chest marked with Takumi's emblem, flanked by two guards whose movements betrayed their trained precision. The faint glow of torches illuminated the path ahead, leading deeper into the rugged terrain.

Without hesitation, Tomaru advanced, his form melding seamlessly with the encroaching darkness.

Tomaru's gaze lingered on her retreating form for a moment before returning to the ravines. The flickering lights of the group grew fainter, disappearing into the jagged horizon.

Steeling himself, Tomaru resolved to retrieve Takumi Village's proud legacy of weapons if possible.

Tomaru activated his Tenseigan, tracking the subtle glow of Hōki and his companions' chakra signatures as they wound through narrow, rocky paths below. Hōki moved with an air of purpose, carrying a cylindrical case slung over his shoulder and a chest strapped securely to his pack.

"The Silver Metal Stone… and possibly the scroll," Tomaru thought. Though the objects' legendary potential excited him, he kept his mind disciplined. Acting impulsively could jeopardize his goal. He decided to follow Hōki further, gathering as much intel as possible before making his move.

For hours, Tomaru followed at a safe distance, his movements blending seamlessly with the environment. His mastery of chakra suppression allowed him to remain undetectable even as he closed the gap. He studied Hōki's mannerisms—confident, calculating, and authoritative. This was no ordinary shinobi.

The terrain grew more isolated as the group ventured into the eastern ravines. Rocky cliffs and narrow paths offered natural protection, ideal for safeguarding precious cargo. Hōki seemed to trust this isolation, loosening his guarded stance slightly as they made camp near a natural overhang.

From a concealed position, Tomaru observed them setting up a small fire. The silver chest shimmered in the firelight as Hōki carefully placed it beside him. His subordinates kept their weapons within reach, confirming their readiness to fend off potential threats.

Tomaru used the cover of darkness to his advantage. His Tenseigan revealed the intricate seals inscribed on both the chest and the cylindrical scroll case. As the night deepened, Tomaru planned his next steps. With the existence of Silver Metal Stone confirmed and the scroll's seals hinting at their importance, Hōki would lead him straight to his ultimate prize: the four legendary weapons.

A smirk played on Tomaru's lips as he vanished deeper into the shadows, leaving no trace of his presence. 

He reached into his pouch and retrieved a summoning scroll. Unfurling it across the ground, he placed a hand over the central seal and channeled his chakra.

Poof!

A plume of smoke erupted, dissipating to reveal the massive blade of Kubikiribōchō resting in his hand. The moonlight caught the blade's edge, highlighting the nicks and scars that told of its bloody history.

Tomaru adjusted his grip, the weight of the weapon grounding him in the moment. A smirk tugged at his lips beneath the mask. 

"These might be the right partners," he mused, hoisting the massive blade with some effort. "Besides, I don't have to pay for guidance."

He grinned beneath his mask. "Let the game begin."

—

From the darkness, a low whistle pierced the air, rising in intensity. It was the sound of something massive hurtling at terrifying speed—a sound that sent a primal chill down Hōki's spine.

His instincts screamed louder than thought.

"Duck!" Hōki bellowed, his voice sharp and commanding as he threw himself to the ground.

The sword came into view a fraction of a second later, glinting ominously in the firelight. Kubikiribōchō—a monstrous, curved blade—spun through the air with deadly precision.

Hōki's teammates barely registered his shout before they followed suit, diving for cover. The massive blade tore through the air above them, the sheer force of its passage kicking up a gust of wind.

Suiko, however, wasn't quick enough. The blade's edge grazed the top of his head as he ducked, a sickening shrrk slicing through the strands of his hair.

"Gah!" Suiko yelped, clutching his head as the blade continued its trajectory.

Kubikiribōchō embedded itself in a tree with a thunderous thud, the impact reverberating through the clearing. The massive trunk shuddered under the force, its bark splintering and cracking as the sword quivered from the impact.

A heavy silence followed, broken only by the sharp intake of breaths and the faint creak of the tree adjusting to the blade's weight.

Suiko, still crouched, looked at the strands of hair drifting to the ground in front of him. His heart pounded as realization set in—if he'd been a moment slower, it wouldn't have been his hair that was cut.

The group turned their gaze toward the massive sword embedded in the tree. Their eyes widened as they realized what stood atop its hilt—a figure cloaked in dark robes, his silver hair catching the faint moonlight, face obscured by an unassuming mask.

The firelight danced across his silhouette, giving the scene an almost ethereal quality.

Tomaru, perched with effortless grace, allowed himself a moment to savor the silence that followed his dramatic entrance. The crackle of the campfire, the rustle of disturbed leaves, even the soft breathing of his opponents—it all seemed to slow, emphasizing the weight of his arrival.

Beneath the mask, a small smirk tugged at his lips. His mind flashed back to an image of Zabuza, standing on his Kubikiribōchō in much the same manner.

"So this is why he did it," Tomaru mused, a hint of amusement in his thoughts. "It's... undeniably cool."

A gust of wind swept through the clearing, tugging at his cloak and sending it billowing behind him.

Hōki and his companions stared in stunned disbelief. Their minds struggled to process what they were seeing. The dwarf-like figure standing confidently atop a sword twice his size was surreal enough—but the fact that he'd hurled it with such terrifying accuracy was even harder to fathom.

Tomaru leapt gracefully from the blade, landing silently on the forest floor. His compact frame didn't betray the strength it took to wield the massive weapon. He tightened his grip on the hilt and turned toward the trio.

"Well," he said, his voice calm yet edged with challenge. "Shall we begin?"

Hōki's group scrambled to their feet, their weapons drawn, their gazes fixed on the masked intruder.

Tomaru's hands tightened around Kubikiribōchō's hilt. With a sharp inhale, he surged his chakra into the blade. The weapon hummed, and the air around him seemed to distort, a subtle tremor rippling outward.

[Chakra Shockwave Slash]

He swung the blade in a wide arc, releasing a burst of condensed chakra.

BOOM!

The shockwave tore through the clearing, its force splitting the ground and sending shards of rock flying in every direction. The wave of chakra energy ripped through the air, carving a path of destruction as it hurtled toward Hōki's group.

The trio dove in different directions, narrowly avoiding the brunt of the attack. The ground where they had stood moments before was now a jagged scar, the trees around them splintered and groaning under the pressure.

Tomaru straightened, the blade resting on his shoulder as the remnants of the shockwave dissipated. His mask concealed his expression, but his eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"This is just the beginning," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the echo of destruction.