Chương 14: Chapter 10

Tea Capital Ryoma, Recently Promoted Ninja The capital of Tea Country was much like the capital of Wind Country, in that a Daimyo lived and ruled here. It was much unlike the capital of Wind Country in that the region had generally gentle winds, slightly more humid air, and an overall more temperate climate. Tea Country made the bulk of its wealth in the shipping industry, being a massive peninsula full of mountains and valleys that specialized in the bulk production of a luxury good- Tea.

The biggest problem they had was usually the pirate-fleets, ones that were rumored to be stationed somewhere down in the impoverished Land of Sea south of them. Even then, the pirates usually had the good sense to not take too much and usually refrained from actually killing anyone involved, so the lost profit was mostly just lost profit for the various shipping magnates and port-clans that made the country their home.

The Tea Capital itself was located down on the tip of the peninsula, the wealthiest port in the entirety of the Elemental Nations. A sprawling urban landscape that started from the beachfront and clawed its way up towards the southernmost mountain. The very top of this mountain held one of the largest and best-funded buddhist temples, with a roadway up to it ironically lined with about a thousand shinto shrines.

A few hundred meters lower than this grand and distant temple, along the flatter section of slope leading down from the mountain and overlooking the sea on three sides was the palace of the Tea Daimyo, surrounded by a small city worth of noble apartments and other fancy luxury-places. Further down from this was the merchant and residential area, until finally one finally reached the beachside docks and industrial regions.

These regions were all interspersed with the occasional long string of powerlines hanging over roadways up and down the mountain, powered by generators down in the city proper. Like all major cities in the Elemental Nations, it was a mixture of old fashioned architecture with little bits of more modern conveniences occasionally scattered around. Very anachronistic with the thousand-year old noodle shops sitting next to light poles.

Not too many though- popular attitudes considered powerlines and generators and soot in the air to be unpleasant to look at and not really worth all the potential benefits if it meant ruining the view. Most countries had entire wings of their government bureaus dedicated to regulating 'the aesthetic impact'. Chakra-usage made up for quite a bit, and with lessened need for industrial power the various Daimyos were in no particular hurry to adopt these 'advancements' en masse.

Most of this technology was imported from overseas in limited quantities in specific, regulated ports, from distant lands that made first ship-contact a few centuries back. Or something along those lines- Ryoma usually had more important things to worry about, so he wasn't actually sure how accurate all that information was. As with any large event involving a large number of people, the reality of the situation was probably significantly more complicated that what he was making it out to be.

He was usually a bit busy with being a child soldier to get into civilian histor-"You're monologuing again." Ryoma sighed, and cast a slightly annoyed eye to his side and downwards. Now well enough to walk about, Mari was grinning up at him with an amused gleam in her eyes. They had reached the Tea Capital yesterday evening, the clients had been checked into their noble apartments under watch by grumpy looking Samurai, and today was the first day of the festivities.

Which meant most of them were walking around, watching their clients from a polite distance, and generally 'enjoying' the atmosphere of the festival. Ryoma, for his part, wasn't really a fan of all the noise and smell, but that was the price you simply had to pay for doing escort missions like this.

"And such a good monologue it was." Ryoma shook his head, eyes trailing to a Kiri ninja walking by. A tall, robust looking man with bright red hair and a scowl. He nodded in the universal 'I'm on bodyguard duty' way, a gesture that was returned before they passed each other. Lots of ninja were present, and typically the unspoken rule for being around so many other ninja was 'if you're going to fight- do it away from the clients'.

Ninja that get bystanders killed meant that hiring a ninja was less popular, and that was something that few ninja wanted to have happen. Typically the one who started hostilities in the middle of a city got ganged up on by everyone else, even theoretically neutral parties, because dead civvies hurt everyone's budget. It was just good form to avoid collateral damage, most of the time. Not always, but most of the time. Up ahead, Lady Ikeda and Madam Gozen were playing one of those festival games that scammed you.

"Pweh- You're at a festival and all you're monologuing?" Mari stuck her tongue out at him.

"You should be enjoying the atmosphere!"

"We're still on a job, don't forget." Ryoma reminded, almost moving towards one of the shady sections of the street before finding a Tani ninja already standing there. He slumped in disappointment, the masked woman wearing mesh and little else tilted her head in amusement as he moved along to find a different spot to stand around all ninja-like in.

"Then you should be focusing on the client instead of your monologues!" Mari pointed out teasingly.

"You'll find that I have more than enough energy to do both." Ryoma waggled a finger, finding another good spot just in time for Lady Ikeda and Madam Gozen to get frustrated with the stand and move along. His brows pinched together in irritation, even as Mari and the Tani-nin giggled at his frustration. He sent a sour glance their way rolling his eyes and moving forwards again, passing a blond Iwa ninja currently demolishing a few dango sticks.

Despite the abundant presence of potential enemies, Ryoma wasn't too worried about attack right now. Right now was entirely too obvious. If an attack were to come, it wouldn't be during the day. — It'd be at night. The distinctive hiss-poof of a gas-canister suddenly being depressurized immediately pulled him from his trained half-sleep and hands together in a series of rapid handseals.

"Wind Release: Convection Air." The jutsu came out almost before he was actually awake, a bubble of outwards-circling air forming around him less than a second later.

"In the vents!" Mari hissed next to the doorway, backing away and readying her immense iron fan with a single hand. Their bedroom was the guest room attached to the noble-apartment that Ikeda and Gozen were renting out for the festival. The konoha ninja were attached to another guest-room, because nobles had entirely too many rooms and not enough stuff to put in them apparently. Ryoma almost commanded Mari to perform Convection Air herself, before remembering that she was currently down one arm.

He threw himself up and over, standing back to back with her to envelop her in the protective bubble while reaching down to withdraw his bulk storage scroll and raising his fingers to summon chakra-strings. The vent was- there. A mostly standard ventilation shaft covered in a thin metal cover. The hissing-gas noise was coming from within, behind the metal grill.

Four strands of chakra flew forwards and 'grabbed' the screws holding the vent in place, twisting them rapidly as his other hand readied the storage scroll. Two seconds later, the screws popped loose and the vent fell off, he tossed his scroll forwards on another string while reaching into the vent-shaft and grabbing at the canister inside. A puff of smoke later and the hissing canister was sealed away, his strings going wide to open the window, and his other hand catching the scroll as he pulled it back.

"Move- check the client!" Ryoma commanded, moving with Mari into the other room, the noble suite. The Samurai was there, already awake with the sound of their movements and hand on his sword. The Konoha ninja emerged a moment later, looking frazzled and somewhat disoriented. Ryoma idly noted that Asuma wore pajamas to bed. He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not.

"Poison gas." Mari quickly explained to the old samurai as Ryoma raised his hands and disassembled the other air-vent, rapidly sealing away the second gas-canister hissing away inside. By this point the nobles were starting to shift, they were apparently pretty heavy sleepers. The Samurai's eyes sharped into slits as he firmly nodded, getting up properly to shrug on his armor with a grimace.

"Braggart, you use poison, right? Recognize this?" Gaku quickly began with a growl in the back of his throat, twin tantos raised and ready. Ryoma knew for a fact that he still had a broken leg and arm, the fact that he was standing at all was impressive.

"Smells metallic and sweet, along with something else I can't identify."

"That could be a thousand different things- I'd have to see the effect." Ryoma grimaced.

"Was any in your room?" Raido held up an explosive seal, one of the empty ones that he had given them a few days back, now filled as indicated by the new sigil in the middle of the paper. Asuma tossed a spent gas canister his way, which he caught and inspected as fast as he could. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Metallic, sweet, and faintly something like a permanent marker. Gaseous form and smell factor indicated something to be inhaled.

He deepened his scowl, strings working to remove the cap of the canister and glaring into the inside. No storage seal at the back, limited capacity for each canister, low dosages are still effective. Fast-acting then- any competent ninja could get this settled almost immediately.

"We aren't dead yet- either it's not very lethal or it has a long onset." He commented, sealing the canister away and shaking his head.

"Still not enough to go on- If I had a lab, maybe." Gaku grimaced back, closing his eyes for a moment before clearly coming to a decision.

"Braggart, you and my team are least injured- forwards scouting while Mari and I remain with mister Samurai?" To guard the client, was unspoken. Logical enough. Those three together probably had enough hand-to-hand ability to hold the line long enough for any of the rest of them to return.

"Genin, how good are you three at fighting indo-" A sharp bark interrupted him, Chairomaru alert and pointing nose-first at the unscrewed vents. Gaku's eyes widened as he took another sniff.

"It's still coming through- there's more in the vents!"

"Everyone out- on the roof!" The samurai barked, jumping over to heft the sleepy Madam Gozen over one shoulder. There was no complaints about the course of action- Ikeda being tossed up and hefted over his shoulder as they moved towards the opened window, onto the balcony that overlooked a central festival square, and then up hooking around the roof-ledge and onto the clay tiles above.

The samurai was pretty spry for an old timer, he had done that in basically three total jumps while balancing a noblewoman over one shoulder.

"W-what the- What is the meaning of this!" Madam Gozen woke cranky, it seemed, wiggling around on the Samurai's shoulder. By the faint light of the moon, Ryoma could see a number of other shinobi making their way from inside and onto the rooftops, carrying clients of various persuasions. The Tani-nin carried a little boy in pajamas. The Kiri-nin carried a short, chubby man by the scruff of his sleeping clothes. The Iwa-nin carried an old woman in both arms, her face covered in some sort of ointment-mask and cranky.

There were a number of other ninja and occasional samurai that made their way out into the night. The truth was clear.

"Not targeted at us in specific- mass attack against everyone here." He determined, casting his gaze around.

"Someone with a grudge against nobles?" Mari asked, spreading her fan out with slight difficulty, using both her hand and one foot to accomplish such.

"And one that underestimates ninja- I'm not sure if anyone was caught by that!" Raido grunted, drawing his sword. That conclusion-"No." Gaku shook his head, breathing already heavy from the jump made on a broken leg.

"That's too easy, brat, too simple. They attacked like that because they knew the ninja would get their clients out. That was just to separate out the chaff."

"Separate the chaff?!" Kurenai began with a confused and tense tone.

"Why would they want to?"

"... Why is it snowing?" Mari asked, brows furrowed and suspicious. She raised her hand up to catch the tiny particles.

"It's not cold enough to-" Ryoma's gaze went upwards. There, dancing around the extent of his air-shield, was millions of tiny particles swirling about. They were barely visible in the moonlight, but just visible enough for him to see that they weren't snow. A shadow passed over the moon. His eyes widened, and his hand went to his most-important scroll. That was the shape of a moth- a very, very big one.

"RELEASE-!" He began, engulfing them all in a cloud of smoke as the immense tin-plated puppet emerged into the world. It was something of a shame that he had to unleash his best puppet in front of so many foreign ninja, but his instincts were screaming at him to get his defenses up. Those instincts had gotten him through the war, and he was inclined to trust them.

"Fire Art: Million Burning Scales!" From the sky above, in the middle of the darkness, a brilliant orange star bloomed to life. That star immediately started to rapidly intensify in both brightness and proximity. Those scales weren't just scales- they were the fuel for this attack. They were all standing in the middle of a bomb. If he let the fire reach them, chances were they'd all be burned alive. Or at the very least, suffering some pretty nasty injuries.

The wind shield around him kept him from being in the immediate danger zone of the technique- the scales blown away from him, so he needed to focus on defending everyone else. If he had noticed it earlier, a wind technique to blow the particles away would've been ideal, but with the fire currently rushing towards them, there was no time for him to go through the handseals. Lucky that he had just been in a war involving ninja from Fire Country, otherwise he might not have a counter for fire ninjutsu prepared.

The three-meter form of his puppet cracked the roof tiles as it emerged, standing tall over everyone present as it leaned back, one immense puppet-eye on the central mask gleaming.

"-FIRE EATING SEAL!" Ryoma roared, just in time for the deluge of fire to reach them. A specialized seal inside the mask-eye activated, a vortex of chakra-strings emerging and spinning about- crashing into the wave of fire in the air before them. The fire was spun into a conical shape as it met the strings, forming something akin to a drill as it was sucked inside the eye-seal.

The rest of the roof around them was covered in a wave of flame, hot flame like a flash flood over the gathered ninja and their various techniques used to guard against the immense wave of igniting powder. Ryoma grimaced as the fire washed around him- the scales not close enough to properly engulf him but more than close enough to set his clothes and straw hat alight. He ripped them away and tossed them off as the fire slowly petered out, the night seeming even darker for the sudden and brief brightness.

On the mask-face of the Wood Dragoon, one immense carved eyebrow slid down and over the left eye, indicating that the fire was sealed inside successfully and closing as a safety-mechanism.

"The hell was that?!" Asuma growled, arms raised in a pitiful defense against the wave of fire that had almost consumed them. Ryoma jumped forwards, the giant mask of the Wood Dragoon folding forwards to reveal the entrance-hatch of the immense puppet, which he forced himself inside without much regard for how it made the pauldrons on his flak jacket bend. The cockpit was downright comfortable just two years ago, now he had to pack himself in like a tuna in a can to fit.

As he entered, his mind connected to the various eyes around the frame, giving him the slightly disorienting but completely encompassing vision of the frame.

"An attack! Be ready!" Gaku growled, raising his swords and sheathing them in glowing pale wind-chakra. In the sky above, the shape of a giant moth started to glow with iridescent patterns, purple and orange and pale-whites as it descended. Around them, the smoke of unleashing the Wood Dragoon started to dissipate.

"Below us too! Clones!" Mari shouted, hefting her fan and taking her best stance. Ryoma didn't need to turn to see, running through the 'start up' sequence of his puppet armor while glancing through the 'forwards' facing eye. There was indeed a large number of what looked like the same outline there in the courtyard, illuminated by the glow of the slowly-descending giant moth above. Long white hair, a katana in hand, blue and purple robes.

The shadows they cast indicated physical clones, but there were at least fifty of them- either the enemy had enough chakra to maintain a ridiculous number of shadow clones, or an absurd level of multitasking to coordinate that many at the same time.

"Ryoma, get yo- W-what is that?!" Mari began, before trailing off as the smoke cleared around them and the giant form of the Wood Dragoon was revealed under the moonlight. Three meters total, with an eight-foot internal frame and weighing a bit over one thousand pounds. The Wood Dragoon took one immense step forwards, nearly shattering the roof beneath it and making everyone nearby stumble. From the cramped cockpit inside, Ryoma called out simply.

"My Puppet, the Wood Dragoon." Mari's eyes widened in astonishment, even as the other ninja nearby began to show their own shock and wary reactions to the sudden giant among them.

"T-the Wood Dragoon?! W-wait a minute, you're that guy?!" Ryoma wasn't actually sure what she was talking about. He didn't have much of an opportunity to ask either- as the sound of hoarse, hysterical laughter began to ring out. Not just from above, but from below and the woods around as well.

"We're surrounded!" One of the other ninja on the roof, one of the half a dozen or so that had survived the fire-attack, shouted out. In the darkness gleamed a hundred eyes.