*Chapter 40: The God of Slaughter—This is What a True King Looks Like*

"Don’t be afraid! Charge together!"

"No matter how strong he is, he’s just one man! There are over a dozen of us—we can overwhelm even a master with sheer numbers!"

A blond rogue ninja, whose strength was close to that of a Special Jōnin, shouted these words before leading the charge against Yoru.

"You’re dead, brat!" he roared.

But just as the blond ninja lunged forward—

A ghostly voice whispered from behind Yoru: "Got you."

A pale, gaunt man materialized, his kunai gleaming as it aimed for Yoru’s throat.

With enemies attacking from both sides, Yoru’s fate seemed sealed. There was no way he could counter both strikes at once.

"Yes! It’s over!"

"Die!"

The surrounding rogue ninjas watched with bated breath, their eyes alight with anticipation.

But then—

"Flash."

A cold, emotionless voice cut through the air.

A streak of blinding light sliced across the battlefield.

In the next instant, the expressions of the pale assassin and the blond ninja froze in place.

**THUD!**

Yoru’s kick sent both men flying like ragdolls.

The rogue ninjas caught the blond ninja, only to see his eyes wide with terror.

A thin red line stretched across his neck—then burst open.

Blood gushed like a fountain, spraying into the faces of the onlookers.

"H-How… so fast…?"

With those final words, the blond ninja’s head lolled to the side before his body plunged into the sea.

**GASP!**

The rogue ninjas shuddered, their blood running cold.

Without hesitation, they turned and fled.

There was no winning this fight. None.

If even a near-Special Jōnin-level fighter had been killed in an instant, what chance did they—mere Chūnin—have?

Their only hope was to run. Fighting meant certain death.

But—

"Now, now… You came all this way. Leaving so soon would be rude."

Yoru’s voice slithered into their ears from behind.

Their hair stood on end.

"Damn it! I won’t die here!"

"Faster! Run faster! I refuse to die like this!"

Desperation fueled their speed, pushing them beyond their limits.

"Impressive. But… still not enough."

Yoru’s voice clung to them like a curse.

This time, he gave them no chance to escape.

**SLASH!**

**"ARGH—!"**

**"NO—!"**

A chorus of screams echoed through the mist before silence swallowed the battlefield once more.

"Now then… Who’s next?"

Yoru’s voice dripped with menace, sending shivers down their spines.

Amid the crimson mist, he truly seemed like a god of slaughter.

"Don’t get cocky, brat! There are still dozens of us—you can’t take us all!" A deep voice bellowed from the fog.

"Yeah! Let’s show him what we’re made of!" another voice chimed in.

"Kill him!"

"You’re dead, kid!"

The remaining rogue ninjas roared in unison, their morale surging as they charged.

"Heh… You still don’t understand the difference between us, do you?"

Yoru’s low chuckle sent a chill through the air.

"Fine. I’ll show you… what true assassination looks like."

Their biggest mistake?

Using the *Hidden Mist Jutsu*.

Because in this mist… he was the king.

**SHING!**

The battle began anew.

But before Tenzin and the others could move to assist Yoru, a series of horrifying sounds erupted from within the fog.

**SLICE!**

**RIP!**

**CRUNCH!**

Flesh tore. Bones shattered.

A phantom weaved through the mist like a vengeful spirit, unstoppable.

Bodies dropped in his wake, the fog growing thicker with blood.

Tenzin immediately signaled his team to hold their positions.

"So this… is the true Kirigakure assassination art?" he thought, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

"Never fight him in the mist. Even I wouldn’t stand a chance."

Meanwhile, chaos erupted among the enemy ranks.

"A demon! He’s a demon!"

"Run! We can’t win!"

A single man had shattered an army, reducing them to panicked stragglers.

"Dispel the mist! Cancel the—GYAH—!"

A rogue ninja’s plea ended in a gurgled scream.

Yoru’s voice purred from the shadows:

"Cancel it? Now where’s the fun in that?"

"The mist is perfect for hunting… for killing."

His casual tone made even his allies shudder.

Orōi and his teammates exchanged stunned glances.

This wasn’t a battle—it was a massacre.

They had doubted Yoru, calling him arrogant for facing so many alone.

But now?

The proof was undeniable.

He wasn’t just strong—he was a force of nature.

"AHH—!"

"STAY BACK!"

"NO—!"

The slaughter continued. Tenzin made no move to intervene.

This was Yoru’s show.

Finally, one of the rogue ninjas managed to gasp:

"Hidden Mist Jutsu… Release!"

The fog lifted—revealing a nightmare.

The sea was painted red, littered with corpses.

And standing amidst the carnage…

A blood-drenched Yoru.

"A… God of Slaughter…" a rogue ninja whimpered.

In just two minutes, over eighty men had been reduced to twelve—the strongest survivors, barely at Special Jōnin level.

Orōi swallowed hard, his hands trembling.

God of Slaughter was right.

The title fit perfectly.

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