Konoha’s Five-Element Ninja

Chapter Four: The Versatility of Earth-Style Jutsu

Setting aside the opponent's bloodline limit, the enemy's Earth Release: Hardening Technique was a huge headache for Hayama. Watching the Iwa-nin dart around, Hayama couldn't help but wish he had Chidori to pierce a hole in that defense. Unfortunately, he didn't have Lightning Release and could only dream of such an option.

The two of them clashed back and forth in the rain-soaked jungle for dozens of exchanges, neither able to gain the upper hand. Hayama couldn't land a decisive blow, and the Iwa-nin named Grey was even more frustrated—he had an arsenal of jutsu but no chance to use them. Hayama's movements were sharp, his twin kunai forming an impenetrable barrier. Even when Grey feigned weaknesses, Hayama never took the bait, refusing to get greedy and always playing it safe. Grey had no opening to unleash his Explosion Release techniques.

It was infuriating—downright suffocating.

Finally, Grey leapt back and began forming hand seals. If taijutsu wouldn't work, he thought, he'd try ninjutsu instead.

Hayama's heart lifted at the sight. In the hands of a chūnin, ninjutsu rarely delivered a decisive blow; it was more often used to create openings for a finishing strike. This was largely because chūnin-level ninjas typically lacked the finesse for advanced chakra control or elemental transformations. Without such mastery, the damage output of their techniques remained limited. Hayama doubted that this young Iwa-nin had refined elemental transformations. Not every ninja was a Kakashi—a prodigy recognized as a genius. Even Kakashi's dual-element mastery had earned him a jōnin rank, a level far beyond what a normal chūnin could achieve. Hayama suspected that, at best, this Iwa-nin's chakra output might be a half karat. If so, that was already impressive.

As Grey formed his hand seals, Hayama decided to stop his own taijutsu maneuvers and began weaving seals of his own.

"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!"

Grey flinched slightly—his opponent's hand-seal speed was astonishingly fast. But Grey's technique was already prepared.

"Earth Release: Earth Spears Barrage!"

Unlike Hayama's earlier Earth Spears, Grey's barrage had a much wider range, more intricate angles, and faster speed. Dozens of earthen spikes erupted around Hayama, converging on him like a swarm of angry bees.

With no way to dodge, Hayama bent his knees and channeled chakra into his feet. He launched himself into the air, flinging shuriken toward Grey as he jumped.

A ninja caught mid-air has no leverage and is essentially vulnerable—tantamount to signing their own death warrant.

Sure enough, as Hayama rose into the air, a kunai shot toward him with such speed that it tore through the air, producing a sonic boom.

Anticipating this, Hayama twisted his body mid-flight in a move that seemed to defy the laws of anatomy. His waist bent at an unnatural angle, causing the kunai to graze his left side, leaving a shallow gash. Blood spurted from the wound, but Hayama avoided a fatal strike.

Grey sneered. Now was the time to finish him. Using a pure taijutsu-based body flicker, he closed the distance in an instant. His left fist, brimming with chakra, punched straight toward Hayama's chest.

At that moment, Grey felt all his pent-up frustration vanish. His bloodline limit would turn his opponent into a burnt husk upon contact. The anticipation was almost thrilling. As he poured more chakra into his arm, faint wisps of steam rose from his skin, mixing with the downpour.

But just before Grey's fist made contact, Hayama yanked hard on something in his right hand. Steel wires, previously unnoticed, came taut. The wires were attached to the shuriken Hayama had thrown moments earlier.

Eeeeech! The wires screeched under tension, a sound sharp enough to set teeth on edge. In Grey's ears, it was as if the wires were mocking him.

With the wires as leverage, Hayama altered his trajectory in mid-air, landing on Grey's left side. His left hand gripped a kunai, which he slashed down toward Grey's arm.

Thwick!

The sound of steel biting flesh rang out. Hayama, his face slightly twisted, licked his lips—a small, dark satisfaction in the chaos of battle.

The two figures separated in the air, everything happening in a flash. Hayama spun gracefully and landed cleanly. Grey, however, stumbled and fell face-first into the mud.

Hayama's expression grew even more serious. His carefully planned counterattack hadn't achieved its intended result. Grey's dangerous left arm was still intact, save for a shallow cut. For a moment, Hayama almost wondered if he'd fallen into an illusion.

In the ninja world, those who dared to fight usually had some tricks up their sleeve.

Before Hayama could catch his breath, a second Grey—identical in every way—appeared behind him, his steaming arm swinging down in a powerful strike.

A clone? No—this was the real Grey.

Grey's bloodshot eyes and spiked hair made him look like a rabid beast. He attacked with a ferocious, single-minded intent.

"Die!"

Boom!

A fiery explosion lit up the dark, rainy forest. The sudden brightness caused Grey to squint, adjusting to the glare. Just as he was about to gloat, a glowing kunai slipped silently toward his throat, slicing through the air with an eerie whistle.

Clang!

At the last second, Grey's right hand turned pitch black and intercepted the blade, leaving no scratch on his skin.

Grinning coldly, Grey growled, "That won't work on me!"

He swung his left fist backward while twisting his body to face Hayama. His enraged eyes bore into the "cowardly" Konoha ninja.

But the sound of burning explosive tags cut his gloating short. Alarm spread across Grey's face. As he tried to leap away, he realized his legs were bound by earthen restraints.

Despair washed over Grey. His life flashed before his eyes: childhood bullying, the thrill of awakening his bloodline limit, the joy of training under a famous mentor, the nervous excitement of his first date with the girl he admired… All those memories vanished in the fiery blast of multiple explosive tags.

Boom!

Hayama emerged from behind a tree. In the end, he was the one left standing. Grey had thought he was on the third level of strategy, but Hayama was on the fifth—he had anticipated Grey's counteranticipation. Hayama had outplayed him.

In a one-on-one fight, unless there was a massive power gap, no opponent could be underestimated. Hayama had learned that lesson the hard way from his second team leader, whose life had been the cost of that knowledge. From the start, Hayama had employed every trick he had. He used his most practiced technique, the Earth Release: Earth Clone Jutsu, to set a trap.

The moment he landed after his jump, Hayama exploited Grey's limited visibility to form two earth clones. One was in plain sight, while the other stayed hidden. Hayama himself concealed his presence, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He knew Grey wouldn't tolerate the humiliation and would rush the visible clone. When Grey destroyed the first clone, Hayama would have the other clone restrain him with mud. Then, the second clone would move in for a kill strike from behind. Even if that failed, the clone's explosive tags would ensure a deadly finish.

This method was Hayama's signature style, one that allowed him to kill efficiently and at minimal risk. It was a style that never let him down.

Sure, it wasn't the most honorable approach. But ninjas weren't supposed to be honorable—they were supposed to be cunning and ruthless. Anyone insisting on a fair fight would end up like this Iwa-nin: another body on the battlefield. Why bother with flashy theatrics when survival was the ultimate goal? Even chūnin and jōnin could fall to a well-timed explosion.

With a shake of his head, Hayama pocketed the Iwa-nin's forehead protector and headed off to support his teammates. The battlefield, once loud with the sounds of combat, fell silent once again.

...

A short while later, Hayama and Tatsu teamed up to dispatch the last Iwa-nin. Blood splattered across Hayama's forehead protector. Cursing his luck, he cleaned his kunai carefully before putting it away.

Tatsu and Yura, watching this meticulous act, couldn't help but grimace. Tatsu muttered, "Captain, you're taking thriftiness to a whole new level."

Without a hint of irony, Hayama replied, "The ninja world is dangerous. Better to be prepared. What if this guy was the son of an Iwagakure higher-up? And what if that higher-up is notoriously vindictive?"

Neither Tatsu nor Yura could argue. They had grown used to their captain's cautious nature.

"Captain, can we request additional team members when we get back? Our squad's been short-handed for ages," Tatsu said.

Hayama sighed. Every time he requested reinforcements, the response was lukewarm at best. The village was so short-staffed that even seven-year-old genin were being sent to the front lines. Unless another teammate died, making their squad unable to complete missions, they were unlikely to get a new recruit. And even if they did, it would likely be a greenhorn doomed to be cannon fodder.

"Let's head back to camp and see."

As Hayama turned to leave, Yura suddenly spoke up. "What about those guys in the rear?"

Hayama froze, his voice growing colder. "Our mission is complete. We return to camp—that's what the ninja operations manual says. Are you suggesting we disobey orders?"

Yura hesitated, glancing at Tatsu's hand moving toward his weapon, then at Hayama's tense shoulders. She took a step back. "If we leave them behind, it'll be seen as dereliction of duty."

Tatsu's cold laugh broke the tension. "Dereliction? Captain, have you seen any of our comrades in trouble?"

"No," Hayama answered.

"Then it's not dereliction. Those four Iwa-nin just happened to wander into sector 33 and were killed by the three of us. We expended most of our chakra in the process, so we must return to camp to recover. Isn't that right, Yura?"

Tatsu's kunai scraped against his armor with a metallic screech that was impossible to ignore, even in the downpour.

After a pause, Yura smiled and nodded. "Understood. Captain, you'll handle the report."

She didn't wait for a response, leaping onto a branch and heading for camp.

Tatsu watched her leave, a flash of anger crossing his face. "One day…"

"Shut it, Tatsu. Yura is our comrade, not one of them."

"But she's a Yamanaka!"

"Do I need to shut you up myself? I'm the captain."

Hayama sighed and gave the order to head back. As they walked, his hands slowly relaxed from their tense grip. Hidden from Tatsu's view, his fingers had just finished forming a single hand seal—the Tiger Seal for the Great Fireball Jutsu.

The rain kept falling, unable to wash away the darkness. The darkness didn't come from the ground—it came from the sky.