CHAPTER 118: CHAPTER 118

"This kid is really troublesome! His speed is insane!" Kushimaru Kuriarare panted heavily, visibly frustrated.

Zzzzt!

Saitama didn’t give them a moment to breathe. His next lightning-charged strike came crashing in, forcing his two opponents to dodge with increasing desperation.

Clang!

A new combatant joined the field—a Kirigakure shinobi with sharp teeth, wearing only a flak vest. He was unscathed, but his blade dripped with Konoha blood.

"Munashi! Stop him!" Jinpachi Munashi barked, spotting the newcomer.

"You veterans are looking a little beat up. Not a great look," the young shinobi grinned. It was Mangetsu Hōzuki—wielding a sword in one hand and Jinpachi’s dropped Blast Sword: Shibuki in the other.

"Here, take this back. This isn’t the sword I want. Even if it does handle nicely!" Mangetsu tossed Shibuki back to Jinpachi, his tone irreverent.

"Hmph." Jinpachi caught the sword with a scowl. Rearmed, he stared at Saitama with a dark expression.

"You must be Uchiha Saitama from Konoha. Been hearing a lot about you lately," Mangetsu said, licking his sharp teeth and flashing a menacing grin.

"You’re Mangetsu Hōzuki?" Saitama recognized the name but didn’t act rashly. Now that three Mist shinobi stood before him, a direct clash would be risky.

"Fall back," Kushimaru muttered to Jinpachi. Both were wounded, and continuing the battle now was unwise. Mangetsu, though strong, wasn’t enough to take on Saitama alone—especially not yet.

At this point in the timeline, Mangetsu wasn’t officially one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. He was a top candidate, but still young and yet to master all seven blades. As a member of the Hōzuki clan, he could summon them via scroll, but wielding them to their fullest potential was another matter.

"...Got it," Jinpachi grunted, no longer eager to continue the skirmish.

"Next time we meet, you die," Jinpachi growled, stepping closer to Saitama with Shibuki now in hand.

"There won’t be a next time. You’re not leaving here," Saitama retorted coldly, his body flickering with lightning. He had just realized something: as a Lightning Release user, the Hōzuki clan’s Hydrification Technique was practically useless against him. Lightning disrupted their liquefied bodies completely.

Crackling—Boom!

Jinpachi dragged his blade along the ground, scattering explosive tags as he moved.

Saitama’s Sharingan tracked the action closely. He frowned. What was Jinpachi doing?

More tags spilled across the earth, linking together like a deadly tapestry.

"Mist Shinobi! Fall back!" Kushimaru barked. Bleeding heavily from his chest, he bolted toward the rear lines, seeking medical attention.

Saitama didn’t pursue. The number of explosive tags laid down by Jinpachi was absurd—covering the terrain and even emerging from the grooves of Shibuki.

The other Konoha ninja quickly recognized the danger and pulled back, distancing themselves from the field. Even the retreating Mist ninja didn’t dare approach, wary of the trap.

Jinpachi’s cruel smile returned. "Goodbye, brat."

Slice!

He severed the connection between the tags and his sword, forming a hand seal and leaping back. Mangetsu followed suit.

"No! Wait—!" some Mist-nin who had been left behind shouted in horror. They hadn’t escaped in time.

BOOM!

A thunderous chain of explosions engulfed the battlefield, cutting off any chance of pursuit.

But Saitama had already evacuated the blast zone, using Body Flicker to get clear. He now stood on a high branch, watching silently as smoke and flame consumed the land.

Expressionless, he tracked the figures of Jinpachi, Kushimaru, and Mangetsu disappearing into the haze.

---

Elsewhere on the battlefield...

"Take down the remaining Mist-nin!" a Konoha chūnin shouted.

Several wounded Mist-nin who hadn’t escaped now faced encirclement.

"Kill them!" the Konoha shinobi showed no mercy. Any captured enemy was quickly executed to prevent regrouping.

The Mist-nin, realizing escape was impossible, fought with reckless abandon. Their eyes were bloodshot, their blades wild.

In their hearts, they knew: killing one wouldn’t be enough, but if they could take two, they’d die satisfied.

Still, their numbers were few, and against a full Konoha unit, they stood no chance. In minutes, they were annihilated.

---

"Captain," a member of the Aburame clan reported to Saitama. A cloud of kikaichū swirled around him, dispersing gently as he spoke.

"Casualties?" Saitama asked. Around him, Konoha ninja were securing the field—collecting enemy bodies and honoring their fallen comrades.

War had no mercy. Dozens of lives lost in moments.

"From our First Company, four killed—one jōnin, three chūnin." Thanks to his insects, the Aburame had tallied casualties swiftly.

"...Understood," Saitama nodded, glancing at the corpses. His face was unreadable.

---

"Saitama!" Uchiha Komori approached, his wounds bandaged crudely. Their squad had no full medical team for mobility reasons—just basic med-nin to perform emergency aid. Anyone gravely injured had to hope they could make it back to the main camp.

"I’m fine," Saitama replied, eyes flicking to Komori’s bandages.

"This was our first real clash with the Mist... and we crushed them!" Komori gestured toward the battlefield littered with fallen Kirigakure shinobi, a tired smile on his face.

Visit patreon.com/TEA_QUILL to get 30+ Chapters