Naruto: Veigar the Ninja

A tide of black-clad figures surged toward the Sunagakure encampment—Konoha's assault unit under the command of Regan Shimura.

Yet none among them realized that beneath their feet, an intricate trap had already been laid: dozens of puppet ambushes awaited silently below.

As Regan's unit drew near the outskirts of the Suna position—

"Enemy attack!"

"Enemy attack!!"

The shinobi of the Sand, fully anticipating the strike, let out a chorus of piercing howls in warning.

Even when their surprise assault was clearly compromised, Regan remained unfazed.

"Kill them—"

"End this quickly."

In Regan's mind, this was only a prelude, this small Suna outpost, with barely eighty shinobi stationed here, wasn't his true objective. He had intended to crush it swiftly and move deeper.

Immediately, the Shimura clan's wind-style specialists moved into formation, preparing a sweeping Wind Release to clear a path.

But they were too slow.

Before the jutsu could be unleashed, Sunagakure's trap was sprung.

From underground, the first wave of puppets erupted forth. Hundreds of senbon, each laced with deadly toxins, shot into the air, glinting an eerie cerulean in the harsh desert sun.

That was the color of death.

The scene resembled a haunting storm of petals, an elegant death blooming from poisoned steel, each flower nourished by blood.

"Aaah—"

"S-somebody—!"

The Shimura clan shinobi, prime targets for the ambush, were caught completely unprepared. Their jutsu interrupted mid-formation, they fell screaming, one after another, before a single counter could be raised.

Before Regan's force had even laid eyes on the enemy, over half of Konoha's soldiers had already perished, felled by poisoned senbon or writhing in agony. Nearly a hundred ninja were dead, countless more wounded.

Only a handful survived the initial volley, those lucky enough to avoid the puppeteers' precise onslaught.

Regan, having narrowly avoided the trap himself, now looked upon the battlefield strewn with the broken bodies of his men. His eyes burned blood-red with fury.

He still couldn't comprehend what had happened: that his meticulously prepared strike had fallen straight into Sunagakure's premeditated ambush. If he didn't understand that now, he was a fool.

As the poisoned assault ebbed, the puppets burst fully from the sand, blades gleaming, ready to finish the slaughter.

"Form up! Counterattack!"

Regan's command rang out with icy precision.

Retreat was no longer an option. The only hope was to rally the survivors and fight their way out, any other path would end in total annihilation.

Victory? Completion of the mission? That dream had died with the first wave.

Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu.

Fire Release: Blazing Meteor Jutsu.

Wind Release: Gale Breakthrough.

Under Shimura's command, the remaining Konoha shinobi rallied. Fire and wind release techniques were combined into a desperate counteroffensive.

Wind fuels fire.

A massive fireball, trailed by a flurry of flame orbs, roared toward the advancing puppets.

Boom—

The first wave of puppets, just emerging from underground, were engulfed in the searing blaze. More fireballs slammed into their ranks, staggering the assault.

Three jōnin-level Konoha ninja spearheaded the counterstrike, buying crucial time for the others to regroup into a defensive formation.

"Aaah!"

"No, no—!"

But it wasn't enough.

Many of the wounded, those already poisoned in the ambush, couldn't even stand. The puppeteers' blades fell mercilessly.

They died where they lay.

Shimura retreated into the dwindling core of his unit using the Teleportation Jutsu. He took in the grim scene: fewer than seventy shinobi remained, half of them paralyzed by poison, their strength sapped.

His hands clenched into fists, jaw tight with bitter rage.

"Damn it all…"

Regan knew it now, this mission had failed.

"There's no more time. Everyone, disengage. Fall back according to the retreat plan."

His voice was low, yet resolute. The order was clear.

But Sunagakure would not let him go so easily.

Their aim was not to repel, it was complete annihilation.

"Yes, sir!"

The remaining Konoha shinobi quickly moved to retreat. But retreat required an exit.

And the enemy had already sealed it.

They had walked straight into Sunagakure's boiling cauldron, Regan had taken the bait, and now the lid was closing.

At the battlefield's perimeter, six four-man squads of Suna ninja unrolled massive ninjutsu scrolls, each team following the direct orders of Ebizō, one of Sunagakure's senior elders. His command was simple: Exterminate them all. Leave no survivors.

Each scroll was unrolled flat on the ground. Six jōnin performed hand seals simultaneously, then slammed their palms onto the surface of the scrolls and roared:

"Wind Release: Hexagonal Wind Kill Formation!"

A vast wind wall erupted from the perimeter, enclosing the entire battlefield in a raging vortex.

Everyone under Regan's command was now trapped.

To breach that barrier would be to walk into a whirlwind of blades, death incarnate.

Regan's face paled as he watched their escape route vanish behind a curtain of slicing wind. There was no time, no technique, and no miracle that could shatter it.

Two chūnin, both severely poisoned, exchanged a glance. In that silent moment, their resolve crystallized.

"Regan-sama, allow us to test the barrier."

Their voices were calm.

Regan turned sharply. "Takashi, Ishinosuke, you—!"

The rest of the Konoha shinobi froze in place, stunned as the two chūnin stepped forward.

Takashi spoke first, his tone light, almost serene:

"There's no saving us. Even if we escape, we won't survive long."

Ishinosuke followed, nodding:

"This is all we can do now."

Before Regan could speak, both men ignited their chakra, surging to their limit, and dashed toward the roaring wind wall.

Regan watched, his expression frozen. Their sacrifice moved him not to grief, but to calculation: How can I survive this?

"AAAH!"

"AAAAH!"

The moment their bodies touched the barrier, they howled in agony.

The winds carved deep gashes into their flesh, skin flayed by blades of air.

But neither turned back.

They continued forward.

Until their bodies dissolved into red mist.

Two warriors, two lives, gone in an instant.

And with that, the wind howled on.

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