Resignation:

Maikumaru stared at the building before him. Before him was the “temple.” To him it looked like an oversized mansion. The grand design was black with gold lining, similar to the art style of the yhat that belonged to his first target as a test. Maikumaru knew of the Mercenary that would also be taking part in this mission. He pondered how much he knew about his connection to the Overseer. He didn't put on his mask. He didn't wear his disguise. Gouman wouldn't be killing. Maikumaru would. He reached the top of the mountain. This time he would be breaking in the way he liked it. Loud and obnoxious. He jumped threw the window. Next to him was a woman, in her twenties who was caught by surprise. “Shane I gotta butcher up a pretty face.” He smirked and winked at her. He was going to leave no survivors.

Taking advantage of the situation, he punched her in the stomach. When he did so, he held a grip on her shirt and threw her against the wall. She looked up at him and started to wield hand seals. Before she was able to finish, he kicked her face into the wall. “Not so fast, bitch, I'm just getting started.”

“So am I. Lightning Release: Eden Ark!”

She raised the palm of her and a blast of lighting sprayed Maikumaru into the wall behind him. “Ow…”

“Ugh. Men. May Hastur have mercy on your soul.”

“Oh please. Hastur is going to be the one begging for mercy by the time I'm done with him.”

“Blasphemy.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

He rushed forward towards her, forcing her into hand to hand combat. She clearly lacked in this area, as he was able to even toy with her. He grappled her closer each time she tried to get away, and he blocked her strikes each time she tried to be offensive. Each time she tried to form hand seals, he would slap at her hands and break them up. All he was doing was toying with her, and his face clearly showed it. Eventually getting bored of these antics, he grabbed her by the neck and lifted her up. “The old saying goes is that everyone has a plane before the get punched in the mouth.”

“He squeezed her harder and harder, and then he started to use both hands. He was far physically stronger than she was. He dropped her body on the floor. And then he stomped on her head consecutively for good measure until it was cracked open. Could never be too safe. He looked around down the corridor and into the next hall. He heard noise from the room next to him. He kicked the door open. Hoping to find his handler instead he found a guard shirtless and looking into the mirror. He was lean and muscular, and take aback by Maikumaru's arrival. “and who would you might be?” Maikumaru walked in the room and closed the door behind him. “You're executioner.” Maikumaru gave a very serious look. This man had just then realized the situation he was in.

He started to wield hand seals just as the girl from before. Rushing forward, Maikumaru delivered a straight right hook to the face of the guard, and and a hook to his hip. He pushed Maikumaru away and inhaled. When the Iwa Ninja rushed him, he blew a strong gust of Fuuton at him, shoving Maikumaru out of the door. He immediately got up to his feet. When he looked up a sword made of wind was coming down on him. He slid off to the side to evade the attack. Rolling out of the way, and standing up he charged at him once more. He pressed his sword forward to stab the Self Proclaimed Champion of Iwagakure, but he pivoted to the left, and horizontally held out his arm, giving him a clothesline. When he did, Maikumaru jumped back, elbow punted straight down and into his ribs. It knocked the wind out of him, giving him more time to reach for his Kunai and stab it through his chest. But he used a jutsu to momentarily become wind itself, intangible to the attack, the blade just passed through him. Maikumaru's eyes widened. He swooped from underneath the Iwa Shinobi, and became tangible once again. Maikumaru rushed forward, he just stood there. It was a given hint that whatever jutsu he used, he was going to use it again. Maikumaru instantly stopped when he was a foot away, causing him to react accordingly. His body became wind once again. But the delayed reaction allowed him to set it off early, and when he became solid, Maikumaru drove the Kunai deep in his chest, ending his life. Exhilarated, he dashed forward, moving onto his next enemy. There will be no survivors.

819 WC

Shivering in the face of the stiff mountain breeze, Rokumaru snugly squeezed the scroll containing his hitai-ate and flak-jacket sealed within between a few rocks jutting out from the cliffside he had climbed up behind the mountain temple his target dwelled in. He was hesitant to leave his only sources of protection behind and move forward with the combat-intensive mission the shady Kumo-nin at the tavern had employed him for, but he was even more hesitant to give any witnesses or surveillance systems something to identify him with. Giving the scroll a tug to ensure it was secure and would not be freed by the strong winds at this elevation, nodding in satisfaction when the durable rolled-up paper held firm, the redhead climbed the final stretch up the cliffside towards the opulent black building just a few dozen meters away.

A low wall that was more decorative than defensive encircled the gold-trimmed temple, which the redhead kneeled in front of while wiping snow from the ground between him and the stone barrier. Taking a moment to mentally apologize for the actions he intended to perform here on this holy ground, Rokumaru held the Bird seal with both hands and focused on the earth and stone in front of him. Unseen blades of wind gradually came into being while scraping against the stone, growing in volume with a horrible grinding sound as the technique began to bite into the rock and break it down into sand rapidly. Despite there being fallen snow all around, the sound echoed in the silence and disappeared into the open sky behind him, but he intended for that to happen. He really needed to figure out a new technique for when he needed that silence.

After nearly twenty seconds of constant grinding away at the mountain Rokumaru had a sizeable pile of sand he guessed to be about 10m³ in total, and he smiled as his chakra flowed into the material while the distant shouts of alarm grew closer and closer above him. The sand flowed in a thin line up his pant leg as he kneeled and began to bulge his clothing out as it filled the loose fabric, and Rokumaru spit the Fūton chakra he had been molding in his lungs into his hand.

The moment movement appeared over the wall above him, a guard peering over the barrier to see who was making a commotion out behind the temple, he threw the spiraling ball of wind blades into the face of the man. The construct struck the guard and he disappeared to the other side of the wall, drops of bright red venous blood raining down on Rokumaru and painting the top of the wall with a splotch of bright crimson. Using chakra to enhance his strength the redhead hopped above the barrier and descended to the other side, stopping a moment to kneel beside the disfigured male guard moaning weakly on the ground, countless micro-cuts streaming blood down his mangled face, and pull his armored-vest up high enough to slip a kunai under the man’s shirt. The sharpened steel tool slid between his ribs and severed his aorta mercifully, his damaged heart trying to work through the damage as it spilled its lifeblood through the wound in his chest, and Rokumaru pulled the blade free when his victim’s agonal breathing slowed to a stop. Against his better judgment telling him to move, the redhead looked into the shallowly-shredded face of his first kill; he wasn’t sure what he should feel or what his reaction should be, and after a few moments devoid of strong emotion, he rose to his feet and wiped the blood staining his right hand against the corpse’s pants.

The sound of displaced air and flames crackling as they moved at high speeds, a loud and full whoooph sound contrasting against the silence of the temple courtyard he stood in, was Rokumaru’s only warning of imminent danger; from his clothing the sand flung itself into the air above him and solidified as a dome of tan that crashed against the snowy ground heavily. Moments after being ensconced in pitch-black darkness the hostile fireball crashed into the barrier with an audible impact, heating the air within the dome as flames washed over the sand cracking the substance as it went. Before the sand dome could collapse under its onslaught the fireball died out, and Rokumaru dropped his shaking hands used to hold the barrier tighter together as the soft material lost its form and revealed him to the world once again. The ground around him was scorched-black rock where the fireball had melted the snow, leaving him standing on a perfectly circular patch of white that had been spared the jutsu’s heat; the guard he had killed resembled a charred, shriveled up log beside him.

Across the courtyard stood a female guard with lime-green hair weaving a string of handsigns while another guard, a muscled male with close-cropped brown hair, was sprinting at the redhead with a two-handed sword held securely in just his left hand. Rokumaru had no time to curse his hesitation and formed a hand seal of his own, a cloud of smoke erupting beside him revealing a single Shadow Clone.

After finishing off his last adversary, Maikumaru had continued onward. Upon the black ebon walls, paintings of lords from the past, powerful Kumogakure shinobi. He stepped closer to the wall and pressed his hand against it as he walked, knocking down every painting that would pass by him. It was good to feel like himself again. There was still another guard that had to be dealt with. He activated his Gaia’s Eyes to find that the Mercenary had made contact and had started to have some fun of his own. Maikumaru, however noticed there was someone hiding in the basement. That person was the Overseer. Maikumaru couldn’t wait to wipe his pathetic existence from the face of the Earth.

He was getting dangerously close to the next guard. He could sense his presence with Gaia’s Eyes. He could feel his body. It was larger than Maikumaru’s. By a long shot. A person such as this was alien to the Champion of Iwagakure. With him, he sported a Kanabo, one that he dragged across the floor. Maikumaru wore a smirk on his face. He was on the floor below him. Walking in his direction. Maikumaru waited for him to be directly below him. He jumped up and pressed his body weight downward as possible, smashing through thee floor. The large man backed away, avoiding the damage. The man was shorter than Maikumaru, but definitely larger, with a round body, but his arms were very muscular. Unlike the other guards who wore robes, he some form of leather armor, having the appearance of an actual guard. He rubbed his gruff beard, adding to his stern face. Maikumaru cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “You certainly did better than the rest of them. You aren’t the first to attempt to kill the High Priest.”

“No but I will be the first to succeed.”

The Giant Man raised his Kanabo above his head, and slammed it down on Maikumaru. He stepped to the side, and threw a left hook to his face. It looked as if it did minimum damage. Maikumaru stepped back to size up his opponent. He certainly did have a lot of size. He brandished his weapon again, holding it with one hand, getting ready to swing at Maik. He finally made his swung at Maikumaru’s leg. To respond to this, instead of moving back to avoid the attack, Maikumaru moved in chose, tackling the man as hard as he could. After the large man stumbled before Maikumaru, he pushed him again by shoulder bashing his chest, causing him to finally fall over on his back. When he did, he kept himself up with his elbow, and then held his kanabo like a spear. He then threw it like one at Maikumaru, slamming it against his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He held his chest, and squeezed it in pain. This fight was probably going to be a bit more difficult. The Kanabo next to him was picked him by the guard. He held it over his head again, and made the attack to put Mikumaru away. But the Iwa Ninja rolled from the club’s path, watching it smash against the tiled floor.

The guard held out the Kanabo, and started spinning at an untraceable speed. He came at Maikumaru like a giant spinning top. The Iwa Ninja backed up as he came at him faster and faster, spinning harder and harder. He reached behind him and took out his two prized gauntlets, slapping the the Kanabo out of the spinning man’s hands. It was time for him to get serious. He gave punched the behemoth of the main in the gut, piercing his armor. He went into a boxing stance, Maikumaru’s signature brawling stance, his feet and chest squared. He rushed the man and punched him in the stomach consecutively. The damage would ignore his armor, being blunt force impact, the guardsman would feel the shockwave of it slam through the armor. He took a shot at his head, and another to his sides, his attacks were coming from all directions. Maikumaru would maintain his assault. Maikumaru was almost getting tired by the time he fell to the floor. The Champion of Iwagakure mounted him, and started to aim shots at his head. He kept punching and punching until he was satisfied with the amount of bloodlost and how deformed his face looked from being repeatedly punched by metal gauntlets. He sighed, taking deep breaths before unmounting the large man. He looked at it once more, and stomped on his head, his skull cracking and blood splashing from it. Can never be too safe. He reactivate Gaia’s Eyes. There were two more Guardsman to go.

801

From their pants pockets both copies of the foreign redhead pulled a handful of smoke bombs, the original hurling his against the ground beneath them while the Shadow Clone chucked its toward their two opponents opposite from them, the sword-wielder batting two aside that broke open on his blade; thick grey smoke puffed into being and clouded the courtyard they stood within. In the haze Rokumaru formed the same seal he had just a few moments ago, another Kage Bunshin materializing into being beside him. He had barely enough time to focus as the clone backpedaling closer to the curtain wall behind them, and by the time the male guard was cleaving through the smoke with his broadsword the redhead has already collapsed into sand that rested below the man’s boots.

The second Shadow Clone fired Air Bullets into the haze where the guard was, striking his torso with blunt pellets that forced a grunt from the burly man, and he dodged the last few shots of the volley as he closed in on the clone firing at him. The first clone had moved to harass the female guard launching fireballs indiscriminately around the temple grounds, charring the stonework and incinerating the scarce plant life capable of growing at such a high elevation. Rokumaru rematerialized where he had stood before, able to see the faint silhouette of the male guard pursuing his clone further towards the wall as the smoke began to grow thinner. The guard sprinted forward rapidly as he used his chakra to enhance his speed, moving quicker than either redhead expected the man could move, and was rewarded with the chance to cleave the wide-eyed intruder before him in half.

The sword struck true and, as the victim of the blow exploded into a cloud of smoke, continued to swing at full speed until it bit into the stone wall behind where the clone had been. Sparks flew at the impact and the guard was taken off balance, expecting more resistance to his strike in the form of the boy’s rib cage and general abdominal viscera; he quickly regained his balance and tugged at his blade where it had cut through the stone and remained stuck there. The man might have succeeded in freeing the blade if Rokumaru had not formed the thick carpet of sand beneath him into a giant fist nearly two meters in size that crushed the man into the wall. The smoke from the smoke bombs had now thinned out enough to leave the courtyard clear and fully visible, but his remaining clone appeared to be doing well enough strafing the courtyard and drawing the remaining guard’s fire. He pressed the ochre fist of packed sand against the wall until the cracking and snapping of bone was accompanied by the cracking of stone, and he let the construct fall apart when he was satisfied with the red, brown and flesh-colored stain left on the wall. The sword had been pressed through the wall until only the hilt remained visible from this side, crumpled up and smashed against the stone.

Resisting the urge to take a moment to catch his breath, lamenting the loss of his Shadow Clone and all of his chakra it had taken with it,  he knew he’d be in even worse shape if the other was destroyed before he was ready. The green-haired guard took notice of him as she was weaving hand seals and he rushed forward until he was within range of her, just under 30m, and his clone quickly moved into place opposite from him on her other side.

The guard finished her seals and stomped on the ground as bright-yellow fire slid over the ground in a circle outwards, rushing across the stony ground towards both redheads that were in her jutsu’s radius. Both versions of the youth raced through their own set of seals hurriedly, alternating them between each hand as they used one-handed seals to speed up the process, and two walls of rock shot up from the ground and curled around their caster’s in a half-circle shape. The flames hit the wall and swirled around it, being diverted to either side until both copies of Rokumaru could feel the skin on their necks heat up rapidly; any longer and it would be enough to dispel his remaining clone, leaving him with a third of his full chakra for the rest of this mission.

Both of the redheads seemed to have the same idea at the same time, which made sense given they had the same mind, and as the fire seemed to show no signs of slowing down they made their own move to correct this. Adjusting the way the Doton chakra was built into the walls of earth protecting them, they set a hand on the inside of their walls and shoved them forward while using a bit of Earth chakra to boost them along. If the guard had been surprised by this she had no time to vocalize it, as the walls of earth rushed through the flames all around her and, within less than two seconds from being shoved by their creators, smashed into each other while the woman was caught between. The stone walls shattered each other with a loud crash and fell into a pile of rubble where they had met, a makeshift cairn for the fire-user that had been crushed between them.

The clone hurried over to Rokumaru and, after a quick high-five and two grins of triumph, set its hand on the originals wrist and dispelled itself to return its chakra to its creator. That creator sighed as he felt his chakra coils fill up just a bit more and the slight wave of nausea he felt disappeared, and with a look around the blackened courtyard he wiped his grimy hands on his pants and walked to the massive black temple. He rubbed his exposed arms left uncovered by the thin red t-shirt he wore and pushed open the iron door beside the tall, heavy gates leading to his target. The redhead wondered if he’d made it here before the unknown shinobi who acted as his counterpart for the mission, or if he’d run into them while searching for the Overseer.

Maikumaru had already met the second pair of guards. He cracked his knuckles, taking a good like at them both. He had caught the two of them in the ballroom, dancing. He had heard the music playing and decided to kick the door open, making a grand exit. “Woah...fancy.” He cracked his head back and forth. The ballroom was of strange design, with insignia engrossed throughout the walls and floor. The room had a bit of a dark yet formal appeal to it. He walked in, with his hands in his pockets, a word not coming from the two he had interrupted. They both wore robes that were a tighter around the midsection. Maikumaru peaked at the female. She had a particularly large chest, especially considering the rest of her body was small.

She took noticed and covered herself up, scowling at the Iwa Ninja. “Who are you?”

“Yo, I’m just some guy. I was just in a neighborhood, and I heard some pretty good music from the hall. And I decided to check it out. My bad if I interrupted the moment. Hey, why don’t you let me borrow your lady friend for a dance?” Maikumaru’s eyes scanned the woman, making her visibly uncomfortable. And her male partner was getting visibly enraged. Maikumaru didn’t expect to gain the psychological advantage so easily. He wasn’t the type of fighter to expect to gain anything from his insults and taunting, but if he noticed that they were effecting his enemies, he would use them to no end. “You insolent fool! What are you doing here?” He raised an eyebrow at the boy, and slowly reached for his back pocket. It made the both of them flince, go into a stance. What was revealed was a toothpick. He placed it in his mouth and smirked. “I’m here to ‘dance’. And I think it’s a good time for me to start.” Maikumaru went into a sprinting stance, and used his sprint burst jutsu. He shoulder bashed the male out of the way, separating him from his companion. He turned to the female who backed away. She bit into her thumb. This was bad. She had a summoning. Maikumaru was confident when facing the two of them, but coupled with a summons was a bit much. He activated shadow clone jutsu to even the odds. She summoned a horse sized ant to her side, and commanded the clone to attack it. He rode on top of the giant insect, while Maikumaru went straight for the Female Guardsman. But then he was propelled back by a blast of fire, one that had him sent flying across the ballroom. The guardsman had defended his lover with a Fireball Technique. It was rather odd. That jutsu was most seen in Konoha. The music had started to play louder more intense. It fit the mode just right. The guardswoman started to weave hand seals of her very own, to help her insect companion. The clone was viciously beating the head of the insect, and sooner or later, it’s natural armor would crack. Maikumaru used his Spark Port Technique, ending up in front of her. It caught her off guard, causing her focus to be interrupted. He punched her in the stomach, and spun her around, putting her in the chokehold. “The moment you used that summoning jutsu as an opener, I knew you were the type of bitch who would rely on it. Given that the rest of your form is so damned awful.” He had her faced towards the guardsman. He looked over at the clone for a second, seeing that the final strike was placed down on the summons. “Let...her...go?”

“Or what? Me and her are just starting to get to know one another better.”

He clenched his teeth at him. The clone dispersed. Maikumaru decided to go for a bluff. His hand lit up with lightning. “This is a jutsu that doesn’t kill. No it does something a bit better. It allows me to extract thoughts and memories from people, pretty cool, huh? I wonder what kind of dirty secrets can be gain from this pretty little head of hers.” She started to struggle but Maikumaru easily kept his grasp strong. She cried out. “Kill me! You have to! Protect our secrets!” He hesitated. His eyebrows shook. His entire body shook. He was scared. Maikumaru smirked. He clenched his fist. “Nah, just kidding.” He punched it straight through her head. The look of shock and horror on his face. The Iwa Ninja savored the moment. He walked towards him, his fist still lightning up with lightning. “It's better to love lost and whatever.” H walked over to him. The man was on all fours. Maikumaru punched through his back, destroying his lungs and spine. Maikumaru left the ballroom. His work here was now half done. It was time for him to see his old boss...

833 WC

It appears whoever commissioned this garish and ornate temple to be built had enough good sense to extend the same level of opulent detail to the many rooms of worship scattered throughout the building; polished hardwood floor tiles made of a dark tan wood Roku was not familiar with lined the ground, with the high ceiling above painted with frescoes depicting scenes he imagined were important to Kumo’s culture and mythology. Whatever sort of temple this was or who was worshipped within was not apparant to the inquisitive redhead, and he stopped in the middle of the open room to take in the architecture. His eyes sweeped along the wall to his right where a detailed snow-covered forest has been painted, a vibrant color that time had yet to dull down, and he felt his hair begin to straighten out and rise stick out just as he spotted the guard clinging to the stone with both feet and his left hand while the right was pointing directly at him.

A flash of light, the sudden feeling of tiled flooring pressing against his back and the buzzing throughout his body leading to his pounding head were the only indicators Roku had to know he had just been struck by a moderate Raiton technique. In the chest, as the sand flowing through the web-shaped hole in his blackened shirt to the floor beside him seemed to tell; his makeshift vest of sand had absorbed the majority of the technique before it broke through and he would likely have suffered cardiac arrest if not for it. The guard, a surprisingly young man with a slim athletic build and sheared white hair, had dropped to the floor from where he was perched and pressed the redhead to the ground with his foot as Rokumaru tried to stand up. Sand flowed out beneath the native’s foot as he ground his foot and the intruder’s body to the floor with gritted teeth. “You’ll give me what I want to know if you want your corpse to be recognizable,” the guard threatened with his index finger pointing down at the foreigner, blue sparks popping from the tip.

Rokumaru’s thoughts of using a close-range Fūton technique to escape were cut short as electrical currents flowed from the guard’s boot into his body paralyzing his buzzing limbs, and he internally cursed himself even as he struggled to articulate his words properly. The flow lessened until it remained only as a faint throbbing along his nervous system, a subtle warning of who was in control. Nodding, Rokumaru motioned for the man to ask what he would even as his eyes struggled not to look at the sand to either side of him. Remote manipulation of the material without the use of his arms and hands to direct how it moved was difficult for him, but not impossible; he just hoped he could find a way to distract his potential killer. “Name the one who sent you,” the guard barked down at his quarry.

“Didn’t ask. Can describe to you,” Roku answered in a strained voice from the boot pressing his lungs against the tiles. The guard huffed and moved his foot from the redhead’s chest to against his chin and shoved his head against the floor, only several dozen pounds of force away from snapping the intruder’s neck; the current still flowed through where it contacted his skin and the buzz made his jaw throb and ache.

The guard slowly, carefully, formed eight consecutive seals with both hands that glowed blue as they reached down and grasped Roku by his temples; his brain suddenly felt pierced by a nail as he gasped for breath and bit his cheek bloody to focus on anything but the pain that threatened to drown his senses. After long torturous moments the feeling lessened just enough to be called a migraine, the guard above him growled in frustration and moved his foot back to the intruder’s chest, forming the snake seal with both hands before his right returned to its position with the index and middle fingers pointing down towards him. It appeared he did not notice the lack of any sand to either side of the stranger he restrained. “You’ll be joined by your fel-“

A bent foot-long spear dripping sand from its razor-sharp tip punctured the youth’s neck, severed his spine and shot through his throat before it planted itself firmly into the wooden tile beside Rokumaru’s own neck, collapsing into a soft pile a moment later. The guard crumpled onto the redhead’s waist and he pushed the corpse to the side, wiping sweat from his face as he crawled to his feet. Extending a hand towards the reddened mini-dune on the floor, pulling the unused sand scattered around with it, he forced it back up his pant leg and bulged his remaining clothing out until his frame widened noticeably. Stooping over the body of the youth, a distant look in the boy’s glassy steel-gray eyes he regretted noticing as he locked eyes with the corpse, Roku removed the gray windbreaker-coat it wore and placed it over his shredded t-shirt with packed sand just behind it. Hurrying on his way while rubbing his aching forehead, eyes darting everywhere he went with hesitance, Rokumaru left through the door leading further into the temple where the Overseer could be found.

Maikumaru ascended down the steps. He ascended down to the temple. He cracked his knuckles and his neck. This was going to be a fun one. He went further and further down the temple steps. It seemed to have been over a hundred meter descent. Torches automatically ignite as he descent into darkness. Maikumaru suddenly sprinted down the steps. His heart was aching with anticipation. He wanted a fight. And then, there it was. Double doors. It had skulls across it, with a figure painted in the middle. Maikumaru had recognized it. It was the Shinigami. Maikumaru sighed. He yielded his fist back, and punched the doors open.

The room was larger than expected. It was lit by candles. And on the floor praying was the Overseer. He prayed to a giant statue of the Shinigami. He didn’t have any shart quip this time. The room was filled with a certain air. It gave him the feeling of dread. He stood up and turned to him, with a small smile on his face. “Welcome Gouman…”

“The name’s Maikumaru!”

“Yes yes, you are whatever monicer you go by. To be honest, I may be giving you the implication that I expected you here. Well...that’s only half true. It might have been a matter of time before Hastur sent one of you dogs after me. It was only a matter of time before one of those imbecile guards stumbled upon my secret lair without my permission.”

“A Death Cults? Really? I expected better from you.”

“Don’t think I don’t know of your friend who is on his way either. I have to say, you both gave my guards quite a bit of trouble. Considering their dead.” Maikumaru looked around the large room. It was even bigger than the ballroom. Grafted to the wall were preserved bodies, each one with markings on them. He then nicked his finger with his Flame Bladed Sword, performing the summoning Jutsu. Once he did, he did, Maikumaru saw the unexpected. Instead of an animal like most summons would be, it was a person. A Samurai. One in Black Armor, etched with gold, just like the temple. “Go and guard the door. As soon as someone steps through it, kill them.” The Warrior nodded it’s head, and passed Maikumaru. It had a cold aura. One that screamed death. “You didn’t think I was going to have that goon, kill you did I? No he’s for your friend, whenever he arrives. I’m saving YOU to be MY kill. You will be a delicious sacrifice...for the Shinigami.”

He charged at Maikumaru with lightning speed, slashing wildly at the Ninja. He backed away, blocking with his arm to only feel the burning pain run up his forearm. He fell back, rubbing the blood away. The Overseer walked towards Maikumaru, his face becoming a twisted and sadistic rendition of his normally stoic and stern demeanor. He waved his hand left hand to the right, and a gust of wind whirled in his direction, lifting him up in the air, and slamming his large body into the wall. His dropped to his hands and knees, shaking his head in an effort to regain his composure. He stood up, and decided to go on the offense. He threw his fists at the Overseer, each one to be ducked, to be evaded, parried. Maikumaru was Outmatched. “I could sense you from afar, boy. Your form is sloppy. Disgustingly so. For all of your raw physical power, you don’t know how to USE IT!” He punched Maikumaru in the stomach. He doubled over and held on to himself.. Gracefully, The Overseer spun around him. His back was facing his. The Cultist walked forward, kicked his foot backward, throwing Maikumaru towards the statue. The Iwa Ninja, rose to his knees, and looked up at the tall figure, who had a blade in its mouth and wore a long robe. He couldn't die here. He refused to die here. He refused to be killed like this. He refused to be killed by this. He heard the Overseer approach him. He felt the chakra surge through him. He felt a gust of energy empower him. The Overseer lifted up the blade. “Pray for your salvation! RESIGN TO YOUR FATE!” Like a bolt of liking striking its victim, the blade struck Maikumaru. However, it never pierced through his skin. There was no blood. There was no death. Maikumaru rose to his feet. He turned around, watching the Overseer back away, stunned. “Consider this my Resignation...from Fuujin Squad.”

771 WC

There were signs of combat all around as Rokumaru stalked through the hallways of the temple quietly, broken sections of the wall and tiled floor scattered around like a massive bull had been tearing through the building. Turning a corner he found the corpse of another guard, a woman with ugly purple finger-marks around her neck while her head had been broken open like a gourd leaking its contents to the floor; he composed himself at the such a gruesome sight, expecting to find more along the way. Following the direction the damage seemed to flow in, he carefully walked around the pool of dark-red leaking from the broken corpse.

Down another hall he found a shirtless guard with a blade wound in his chest, stiff lifeless hands pressed over the gaping hole as he had tried to stem the flow of blood unsuccessfully; he almost missed the purple bruises from the cracked ribs the guard had. The room nearby had its door knocked off its hinges and lay on the ground several feet from the hall where someone had kicked it in.

Whoever his counterpart on this mission was, Rokumaru had to imagine the strength and brawn the man seemed to flaunt with his attacks; it had to be a man, unless there was a hidden community of amazons hiding somewhere in Lightning Country. Walking further through the building led the redhead to smashed tiled floors, crushed with a thick blunt weapon leaving craters in the wood, and the sprawled-our body of a massive guard bulging with fat and muscle and a crushed head. Shaking his head and chortling quietly with amazement, Roku stepped around the mountainous corpse and continued to sweep through the building for the Overseer. “Note to self: stay out of reach of the other guy,” he cautioned himself with a hint of amusement. He’d been told to expect another shinobi tagging along on the mission, but no one mentioned it’d be a ninja-version of a raging gorilla strung out on amphetamines. He passed by a large, spacious room that appeared to be a dining or dance hall from the cursory glance he took around, but he quickly left the room upon spotting the bodies.

Wherever the Overseer was, this floor was not the right place as all he could find were empty rooms and dead guards. The second floor of the building was much less expansive than the first, just a few offices and storage rooms he felt tempted to poke through, but he restrained himself from pursuing that distraction. Returning to the ground floor be retraced his steps and found another hallway he had walked right past with a staircase leading to the basement level, however many of those there were built beneath the temple. He stared down at the darkened staircase, probing his bitten cheek with his tongue while he thought, and with a sigh he pulled a kunai from his pouch and held it in an icepick-grip as he descended the stairs.

Dulled, distant echoes of battle reverberated up the staircase as Rokumaru climbed deeper and deeper beneath the temple which hurried his descent, torches springing to life as he approached and extinguishing themselves as he passed. The stairs finally ended as they led to a double-gated door with the doors, skulls detailing their facade in a morbid contrast to the temple it stood beneath. Looking into the room it lead to revealed two men, an older fellow Roku assumed was the targeted Overseer while the other resembled a lumbering wall of brown stone with snow-capped short white hair, a mountain personified. The sheer size of the brute, coupled with the deceptive speed he used to throw blurred punches and combinations at the Overseer, made the comparably tiny redhead assume that was his counterpart for this mission; he hoped, at least, as he really did not want to risk fighting someone so obviously tailored for close-quarters combat.

He stepped into the room quickly to throw himself into the brawl between the two men but, barely sensing a cold presence beside the door that blurred in his peripheral vision, skidded to a halt and raised his kunai up to defend against the sword chopping down at him with an overhand strike. Too startled by the sudden attack to move into a proper stance, the blow struck the kunai knocking it from his grasp and continued on to slice shallowly into the stumbling redhead’s wrist; it sliced cleanly through the millimeter of wrist bone it had reached. Rokumaru gasped, regained his balance from the stumble and held his wounded wrist as he backpedaled away from the armored figure chasing after him, jabbing and slashing quickly with a katana.

The attacker had hidden itself to the right of the door, driving Roku to the left towards the corner of the huge room he distantly noticed was illuminated by candlelight alone, a massive statue of the Soul Reaper, the Shinigami, situated at the far end of the room the two men fought beside. Sand fell to the floor and trailed beneath the attacker as the redhead’s focus had been interrupted, freeing the material from his control. The black armored assailant had gotten too close for the redhead’s comfort and continued to swipe at the retreating intruder with his sword, black with gold trim just like its armor and the temple itself; it moved with a calm, determined gait as it attacked and not once did Rokumaru hear the man breath heavily from exertion. Or breath at all. Forcing himself to let go of his bleeding wrist, he felt his back hit the wall just as he’d been trying to form the Bird seal to blow his attacker back and free up some room. Panicked, watching the armored guard stab towards his chest in what felt like slow-motion, he barely managed to utilize the Needle Jizō technique as his thick crimson hair lengthened in an instant to stab into the floor and defend against the blade that had been caught between the long steel-hard locks.

Enclosed in his cocoon of hair, Rokumaru frantically raised his injured right arm in the cramped space and held his hand out in a grasping motion towards where he knew his sand had fallen to. With a crack his attacker’s sword broke through the first layer of hardened hair, a crack of light appearing where the tip slowly slid closer and closer towards Rokumaru’s chest cavity, and with desperation the redhead pulled all the sand he had under his control outside the cocoon towards himself.

The sand crashed against the hair needles and shook the cocoon from the impact, slamming into the armored figure’s back and pressing it against the sharpened quills until many slid between the eye-holes in the armors helmet impaling the head within, but still the sword slowly slid closer despite the pressure of the sand crushing it’s wielder against the cocoon. Frightened, Roku twisted as far as he could to the side to escape the blade even as he pulled the sand towards himself with all his control; the cocoon of hair was still attached to his scalp and staked to the ground keeping him from turning fully, and the sword eventually pressed against the gray windbreaker on his right side and cut through the fabric. The sudden feeling of cold steel against his skin, then sliding inside of it, was the extra impetus he needed. He shouted in exertion and pain, echoing within the cocoon he had hidden within, and with strong pull of his shaking right hand the wall behind him cracked from the pressure.

The armor gave out under the intense pressure pressing it into the cocoon and with a loud-pitched squeaking sound it flattened against the sharp quills, pressing the sharpened locks millimeters into the steel plates as the figure within was crushed by the weight. The sword’s blade snapped from the leveraged pressure against it, sliding out of the shallow wound in the redhead’s side and clattering to the stone floor, and Roku let the barrier of hair needles disperse.

The hardened locks lost their form and shed themselves from his scalp, leaving his original hair length behind as it feel to the floor forming a small red carpet, and the mass of sand he had used to crush the armored guard fell to the floor lifelessly. He glanced behind himself, taking long breaths to recover and cradling the incision in his side dribbling blood that stained his newly-stolen and already destroyed jacket, and had to double take at the half-circle shape that had been pressed into the wall by the force of his sand.

Hearing the sounds of the other two occupants of the room Rokumaru turned to them and ran to where they were beside the Shinigami statue, ready to help the massive white-haired stranger.

Maikumaru came at the Overseer. He was no longer made of flesh and bone, but he was now anger, determination, and power itself. He yielded his fist back. Though much slower than the Overseer himself, the Robed Cultist slashed at Maikumaru. He screamed like the madman he was. “DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!!” His insanity has left him. He wasn’t even going to use a jutsu. He wanted the pleasure of the blade to be dug in Maikumaru’s skin. He was being denied the sensation of taking a life to be sacrificed to his Dark Lord.

Maikumaru threw his fist. It connected to the madman’s jaw, throwing him back. He ragdolled onto the ground. Maikumaru saw this as an opportunity to properly counterattack. He knelt down into a sprint position. But the Overseer had regained his senses and saw the large Iwa Ninja charge in his direction. He pivoted off to the side, avoiding the attack. Maikumaru had planned to thoroughly break his back. The Overseer cocked his head up and and created hand signs. His face looked more serious, and less desperate to slaughter his enemies. And pointed his hand at Maikumaru, and let off a blast of fire. Maikumaru used an Earth Style Jutsu to raise the ground beneath him, to form a wall in order to block the attack. He used it’s offensively, and shoved the wall forward. The movement didn’t move the Overseer one bit. He kept his hand held up, and a cone of lightning exited his palm, engulfing the wall. Not only did it stop it in its tracks, but it made it crumble into rubble. “I’m not playing these games, Overseer. You WILL die today.”

“Your body and your little companion’s will look perfectly, well etched on my wall. May the Shinigami have mercy on your soul.”

“If you love the Shinigami so much, why don’t you just MEET him.” Maikumaru rushed towards him once more, prepared for a counter attack. His skin turned to earth, stopping another fire attack from dealing any damage. It didn’t stagger him, allowing him to force his enemy into hand to hand combat. “Maikumaru punched him in the face, and grabbed him by the shoulders. He kicked his leg back, and drove it forward, his kneel making contact with the man’s lover. A liver shot had painful effect, as the as the Overseer coughed up blood from the attack. Maikumaru’s body charged with Raiton Chakra. He grabbed the Overseer by the neck, and squeezed it tightly. This jutsu prevented him from using chakra, and it prevented him from moving. The Overseer started to struggle. And then he started to fade.He gagged and choked. He tried to get words out, but Miakumaru’s grasp was too much. Life had left the Overseer. When Maikumaru realized this, he threw his body on the ground. Maikumaru fell to his knees, and looked over to the Mercenary. “Nice work…” when he faced the floor, and saw a little black book. He picked it up. Maikumaru’s eyes widened. It was full of names. Names of Heretics. The names that were crossed out were names of those Maikumaru had put an end to under Hastur’s steed. He closed the book. He looked at the Mercenary. “Let’s go.” He sped off. This was a goldmine. A Goldmine of people that could be added to the cause. With this much information....a coup could be started…

EXIT

592

Perception B~1->B~3
Speed B~1->B~3

Almost immediately Rokumaru slowed to a stop and watched, pensively, as the tall muscled shinobi strangled the Overseer until the man’s struggles subsided and tossed the lifeless body aside. There was no doubt as to who’d decimated the guards he’d found upstairs, at least. The stranger rested on his knees after his fight with their target and, looking over at Roku, complimented the admittedly sloppy job the redhead had done. Said redhead was unsure what to say after all that he’d been through the past ten minutes, deciding instead to tear the sleeve from his stolen windbreaker off and use it to bind his bleeding wrist with the makeshift bandage. The other shinobi picked up the Overseer’s black book, thumbed through it briefly before pocketing it, and suggested they leave as he sped off across the room and down the hallway they had came from. Rokumaru followed quickly behind.