Chapter no.49 Naruto

Chapter no.49 The Demon of the Mist

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The small wooden boat creaked as it pushed through the mist-shrouded sea, the soft splash of the oars barely audible against the dense fog. Naruto sat cross-legged near the bow, his arms folded as he let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

It had been two days since he’d left the campsite with no sign of Lordran due to his mission, and the thought gnawed at him. Solaire must’ve left by now, he thought gloomily, fake tears welling up in his eyes.

Looks like I can’t talk to my Sunbro…

The soft murmur of voices drew his attention, and he turned to see Tazuna speaking with the helmsman.

“How’s the situation looking back home?”

The helmsman adjusted his wide, worn straw hat, a hand calloused from years of labor brushing against its frayed edges. His name was Kojiro, a thin, wiry man with sun-weathered skin and deep-set eyes that seemed permanently narrowed from decades of squinting against the sea’s glare. He wore a tattered blue yukata tied at the waist with a faded rope belt, and his sandals were held together by thin strips of cloth.

Kojiro’s voice had a distinct cadence to it—a low, gravelly tone that dragged slightly. “The same as it’s always been, Tazuna-san,” he said, his eyes fixed on the mist ahead. “Gatō’s men are everywhere, taking what they want, killing who they please. Your bridge… it’s the only chance we’ve got left. That's why I agreed to this.”

Team 7 took a collective breath, the weight of the helmsman’s words settling over them like a heavy fog. They had known the mission was important—it had been drilled into their heads since the beginning. But hearing it from someone who lived it, someone who carried the scars of Gato’s tyranny, made it real in a way no briefing or strategy ever could.

“People are starving. Some have already started fleeing to the mountains. The rest… they’re holding on for your bridge. If you can finish it, maybe, just maybe, we’ll have a future that isn’t owned by Gatō.”

The boat glided forward, the mist began to part, revealing the skeletal outline of the unfinished bridge. Massive stone pillars rose from the water, their surfaces marred by moss and the elements. The framework of wooden scaffolding stretched across its length, incomplete and precarious, as if frozen mid-construction.

To Naruto, it was as impressive as the bridge back in Lordran.

“Tazuna-san, you made this?” Sakura asked.

“No, kid. I’ll have made it when it’s done—when my people can sleep, eat, and breathe without fear. Then, maybe, I’ll call it mine.”

The boat drifted into a series of arched stone tunnels, their curved ceilings damp with condensation, glistening faintly in the light that filtered through cracks above. Above the arches, the muffled sounds of a bustling fish market echoed faintly—voices haggling over prices, the sharp clatter of fishmongers’ knives, and the occasional splash of discarded water. The air carried a peculiar mix of scents: salt, decay, and the tang of fish.

Naruto wrinkled his nose. “What is this place?”

“This is the dock for people like us—common folk. The real docks? Gatō owns those. This is all we’ve got left.” He gestured to the mangroves. “I’ll use the cover of the trees to sneak you in. Once we hit land, move fast. The roads aren’t safe.”

Kakashi nodded. “Team, we’re going off the road. Stay alert. This is dangerous territory.”

The boat slowed as Kojiro guided it into the dock. The wood groaned under their weight as they began to disembark. Around them, the mangroves stretched out like a natural fortress, the water stained with the muck of rot and salt. Small figures moved in the shadows—fishermen and children hauling what little they could, their faces gaunt and wary.

“They all look so…” Naruto trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

“They’re surviving,” Kojiro said simply. “That’s all the people of the wave can do.”

But then, Naruto froze. His body tensed, every instinct screaming as he felt it—a shift in the air, the ripple of danger closing in.

“Get down!” Naruto shouted, shoving Tazuna to the side.

The rest of Team 7 ducked instinctively as a shadow tore through the air. A sharp whistle of wind cut across the dock, and then came the sickening sound of flesh and bone being severed—a single, brutal thud.

Jiro’s body stood motionless for a heartbeat, as if frozen in time. Then, with a grotesque inevitability, his headless torso collapsed onto the dock, blood spraying across the weathered planks. His straw hat fluttered to the ground, landing beside his lifeless body as crimson pooled beneath it.

“No!” Tazuna cried out, his voice breaking.

The head tumbled into the murky water, sinking quickly, leaving behind ripples that spread out across the blood-streaked waves.

Above them, the massive blade of the Kubikiribōchō was embedded into a mangrove trunk, its bloodied edge glinting in the light. Then came the sound of footsteps, followed by the faint hum of Shunshin.

Zabuza Momochi appeared atop the blade of his sword, his tall, muscular frame silhouetted against the pale mist. His bandaged face was calm, his dark eyes scanning them like a predator sizing up its prey.

“So… these are the shinobi guarding Tazuna. Let’s see if you’re worth the effort.”

Naruto growled low in his throat, his hands instinctively moving to equip his helmet. His fingers itched for action, for vengeance after the helmsman’s death. But before he could take a step, Kakashi outstretched his hand, blocking him.

“This isn’t your fight, Naruto,” Kakashi said firmly. “Protect Tazuna. I’ll handle this.”

Naruto obeyed, stepping back as Kakashi reached up and pulled his headband up, revealing the crimson Sharingan. The air around Team 7 shifted as they realized their sensei was taking this fight seriously.

Without a word, the team snapped into formation. Naruto and Sasuke flanked either side of Tazuna, their weapons ready, while Sakura stood directly in front of the bridge builder, driving kunai into the rotting dock planks.

Tazuna glanced nervously at the team, his hands trembling slightly. “Wouldn’t it be better if we ran?” he suggested, his voice tight with fear as he noticed the last few villagers fleeing into the mist.

“No,” Kakashi replied. “You wouldn’t make it far.”

“Then it must be over for the villagers,” Tazuna muttered as he took a swig from the battered bottle in his hands. His eyes tracked the silhouettes of men, women, and children darting into the mist, running as far from the conflict as they could.

“They know,” Tazuna said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. His weathered face turned down slightly as if in prayer, his hand gripping the bottle like it was the only anchor he had. “The moment you spot a ninja, you run—even if they’re not after you. Their collateral can kill you just the same.”

Naruto watched the villagers disappear into the fog, their figures fading like ghosts. His jaw clenched, and without a word, he formed a dozen shadow clones with a single handsign. The clones appeared in a flash, nodding to him before they flickered, vanishing into the mist with quiet efficiency.

“Don’t worry, old man,” Naruto said. “No one’s dying on our watch.”

Tazuna’s lips pressed into a thin line, his hand tightening around the bottle. For a brief moment, he felt something unfamiliar—and then he noticed something in Naruto’s body language.

Naruto felt the memories of something killing his clones in the mist.

“Konoha shinobi… is that really what you’re like?”

From atop the massive Kubikiribōchō, Zabuza snorted. “Soft,” he sneered. “That’s what Konoha shinobi are—idealists playing at being warriors.”

Zabuza’s posture was relaxed. “Is this what you’ve taught your team, Kakashi of the Sharingan? To hold the hands of civilians? To play hero?”

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Zabuza’s form. He knew immediately that the man standing on the massive sword was just a water clone, a decoy meant to distract and his words were meant psychological warfare. He’s trying to unnerve them, to get into their heads before the fight begins.

“I think I’ve taught my brats well enough."

Zabuza’s eyes darkened. “You think you’re raising shinobi? No. What you’ve made are children pretending to be warriors. A ninja isn’t someone who protects, Kakashi. A ninja is a weapon. A tool forged to kill, again and again, until there’s nothing left.”

His gaze shifted to Naruto’s clones as they vanished deeper into the mist, ushering the few remaining villagers to safety.

“You’re wasting your time, kid. I’ve already popped your little toys. Hearts, kidneys, throats—those poor civilians are bleeding out as we speak. You should’ve stayed with your client instead of playing hero.”

Naruto’s fingers tightened on the hilt of his Zweihander, his jaw clenching as fury rippled through him.

“Stop!” Kakashi’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Naruto, calm down! Don’t let him get into your head!”

Naruto froze in place, his breath heaving, but he didn’t lower his weapon.

“That’s right, boy. Listen to your teacher. You’re not ready to face someone like me.”

Before he could say more, Kakashi moved.

“Lightning Style: Senbon!”

A flash of light cracked through the mist as Kakashi’s jutsu shot forward, piercing Zabuza’s chest in an instant. The figure on the Kubikiribōchō froze, then dissolved into a splash of water, the remnants falling back into the sea.

As the ripples faded, Zabuza’s voice echoed through the mist, low and mocking. “Good shot, Kakashi. But that wasn’t me.”

The fog thickened, rolling over the dock like a living thing, swallowing the area in a dense, suffocating white. The world grew eerily quiet, the only sound the faint lapping of waves against the mangroves.

Naruto tightened his grip on the Zweihander, adjusting his stance. He let the blade drop into the fool’s guard. But his senses extended outward, feeling every minute shift in the air, every vibration in the water.

Sasuke crouched low to Naruto’s left, his Sharingan spinning as he scanned the mist for even the faintest movement. Sakura remained close to Tazuna, her hands ready, her eyes darting between the shadows.

The team waited, their breaths shallow, their nerves taut like bowstrings.

Somewhere in the fog, the Demon of the Mist waited too. Watching. Hunting.

And then the silence broke.

Then, without warning, Zabuza appeared like a phantom from the fog, his massive Kubikiribōchō slicing through the air in a deadly, sweeping arc aimed to decapitate the entire team.

Naruto’s Zweihander shot upward, the blade catching Zabuza’s massive sword with a metallic crash. The sheer force of Naruto’s swing stopped the executioner’s blade in its tracks, sparks flying as the two weapons met.

To Zabuza’s surprise, Naruto’s raw strength pushed him back. The force was enough to make him skid across the slick dock, his feet digging into the wood as he regained his balance.

“That strength…”

But before Zabuza could recover, Kakashi appeared behind him in a blur of speed. A kunai gleamed in the faint light as Kakashi’s hand moved like lightning, slitting Zabuza’s throat.

Or so it seemed.

Zabuza’s body melted into water, splashing harmlessly onto the dock as another figure emerged from the mist behind Kakashi and swung his massive sword in a deadly horizontal arc, the blade slicing through the air toward the older man's back.

Kakashi twisted his body at the last moment, jumping into a backflip that carried him out of harm’s way. As he flipped through the air, Kakashi’s hands came together in a blur of motion.

“Wind Style: Reuleaux Triangle!”

A blast of wind, shaped like a rotating circular triangle, burst from Kakashi’s palms. The jutsu spun with razor-sharp edges, cutting through the mist with a high-pitched screech. It slammed into Zabuza with enough force to send him crashing into the water below—only for his body to splatter into a puddle, another water clone.

A low, mocking laugh echoed through the mist, chilling and cruel. “You’re good, Kakashi. But not good enough.”

From the fog, standing atop the water like a shadow of death, Zabuza formed a series of rapid hand signs. His voice rang out, commanding and sharp.

“Water Style: Water Dragon Jutsu!”

The water surrounding him surged, rising and twisting as it molded into the shape of a massive dragon. Its serpentine body writhed, and its gaping maw snarled as it roared toward Team 7.

“Sasuke!” Kakashi shouted.

“I’m on it!” Sasuke took a deep breath and released his Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!

A massive sphere of fire shot forward, colliding with the water dragon in an explosion of steam and mist. The air sizzled and hissed, but Zabuza’s mastery of water proved too strong. The dragon pushed through the fireball, its momentum barely slowed as it barreled toward the team.

“Sakura, now!” Kakashi commanded as he landed on the dock.

Sakura clapped her hands together, her palms glowing with chakra. “Ninja Art: Barrier Formation!”

The kunai stabbed into the dock floor glowed brightly, and chakra threads surged between them, forming a translucent wall that shimmered like liquid crystal. The water dragon crashed into the barrier with a deafening roar, the impact shaking the entire dock. Water splashed everywhere, the force so intense it sent ripples through the mist.

The dragon shattered into massive torrents, its energy breaking into countless streams that fell harmlessly around the team. The chakra barrier flickered but held, its glow illuminating the dock.

Zabuza clicked his tongue in annoyance as the mist began to thin. The sight of the shimmering chakra wall protecting his targets was enough to make him scowl. “Smart. But clever tricks won’t save you for long,” he muttered.

Before Zabuza could form another jutsu, Kakashi appeared in front of him with a flicker, his kunai clashing against the Kubikiribōchō.

The force of the clash sent a shockwave rippling outward, shaking the water beneath their feet. Zabuza’s sword was massive, but Kakashi’s speed and precision made up for the difference in weight. Their weapons locked, the two shinobi glaring at each other, their killing intent palpable.

Zabuza pressed the attack, swinging his massive blade in a series of brutal arcs. Each strike was precise and deliberate, the weight of the Kubikiribōchō enough to split the dock in half with a single misstep. Kakashi moved with fluid grace, dodging and parrying with his kunai.

Zabuza feinted high, forcing Kakashi to block, only to sweep low with a spinning kick aimed at Kakashi’s legs. Kakashi jumped, flipping midair to avoid the strike, and retaliated with a kunai aimed at Zabuza’s ribs. Zabuza twisted his body, the blade narrowly missing him as he brought his massive sword down in a crushing overhead swing.

Kakashi sidestepped, his kunai scraping against the massive sword as sparks flew. The two broke apart, each assessing the other as the mist swirled around them.

“Here’s the thing, Kakashi,” Zabuza said, “you never fight a shinobi of Kirigakure in the water.”

Without warning, Zabuza released his chakra control, plunging into the depths below with a splash. His form disappeared beneath the surface, leaving only ripples in his wake.

“Look at your team, Copy Ninja!"

Kakashi turned sharply, his Sharingan spinning as his gaze snapped to Team 7. From all sides, multiple water clones of Zabuza rose from the sea, their features identical to the original, their massive swords gleaming with the promise of death.

Naruto’s Zweihander swept through the Zabuza clones, cleaving them cleanly in two while Sasuke’s ninja wire shot out like gleaming threads of silver, wrapping tightly around the remaining clones. The wires glowed with crackling lightning chakra, the electricity coursing through the clones and shattering them into bursts of water.

Sakura, meanwhile, remained rooted near Tazuna, her hands pressed together in concentration. A pyramidal chakra barrier shimmered around them.

But then, the real Zabuza exploded from the water with terrifying speed, his Kubikiribōchō slicing downward which Naruto met him head-on, his Zweihander raised. The clash of steel rang out like a thunderclap, the sheer force of the blow sending shockwaves through the air.

Naruto was sent hurtling backward, his body smashing through the wooden walls of the dock far away.

Sasuke’s ninja wires shot out, wrapping tightly around the massive sword. With a surge of chakra, he sent electricity coursing through the wires, aiming to disable the blade. But Zabuza barely flinched.

“Amusing.”

With one swift motion, he closed the distance, driving his knee into Sasuke’s stomach. The impact sent the boy flying backward, slamming him against Sakura’s barrier. The wall trembled, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface.

Zabuza raised his sword high, aiming to cleave Sasuke in two. The blade descended, only for Kakashi to appear in a blur of speed, substituting himself for the boy at the last second.

But Zabuza was already one step ahead.

The swing of Zabuza’s Kubikiribōchō seemed destined for Kakashi’s throat, but the blade veered off course at the last moment, embedding itself into the dock with a resounding crack.

Before the white haired jonin could react to the feint, Zabuza twisted his body into a spinning tornado kick. The strike connected squarely with Kakashi’s chest, the force of the blow like being hit by a battering ram.

The white haired man hit the surface with a splash, his body already twisting to recover when he felt it—a massive surge of chakra beneath him.

“Water Style: Venus Flytrap!”

The water around Kakashi churned violently, rising into the shape of a massive maw. Two halves of the watery trap snapped shut around him, the jaws locking him in place.

The Venus Flytrap shifted, its watery surface twisting and reforming into a sphere that encased Kakashi entirely.

“Water Style: Water Prison Jutsu!” Zabuza’s voice rang out from the mist.

Kakashi felt the weight of the water pressing in on him, restricting his movements and making it difficult to breathe. The heavy sphere glimmered with Zabuza’s control, an unrelenting force designed to crush both body and spirit.

From the water, four Zabuza clones leapt into the air, maintaining the water prison.

“You lose, Konoha shinobi,” the original Zabuza said, his voice filled with cold certainty.

On the dock, Tazuna trembled behind Sakura, his weathered hands clasped tightly together as if in prayer. Sakura, her pink hair clinging to her damp forehead, stood resolutely in front of him, her hands pressed together in concentration. Despite the strain of maintaining the glowing pyramidal barrier surrounding them, she held firm.

Then it came.

“Water Style: Water Dragon Jutsu!”

From the water’s surface rose a monstrous serpentine dragon, its twisting body made entirely of water. The creature reared back, its jaws snapping as it surged toward the dock, its massive form casting an ominous shadow over Sakura and Tazuna.

The force of the jutsu roared in Sakura’s ears, the water dragon’s sheer size and power shaking the dock as it closed in.

Kakashi’s voice rang out, sharp and desperate. “Run!”

But Sakura didn’t move.

Fear flickered in her eyes—raw, unfiltered, and undeniable. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach, clawing at her resolve. But there was something else, something far stronger that burned in the depths of her heart.

Determination.

Trust.

Even though she could feel the weight of Zabuza’s killing intent pressing down on her, making her hands tremble, she didn’t run. She didn’t abandon her position. She knew, deep in her soul, that her teammates would protect her.

She knew that Naruto and Sasuke had her back.

The water dragon lunged forward, its massive maw open wide, ready to crush everything in its path. The dock groaned beneath Sakura’s feet as the beast bore down on her, its sheer presence suffocating.

But before it could reach her, two blinding attacks cut through the mist from opposite sides.

“Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!”

A massive fireball, larger than anything Kakashi had seen Sasuke produce before, roared across the dock. The flames illuminated the mist, casting long shadows as they surged forward.

From the opposite side, a gale of slicing wind shot out, a crescent-shaped slash of air that tore through the fog.

The two attacks collided with the water dragon Zabuza had summoned, shattering it in an explosion of steam and raw energy. Water sprayed in every direction, the remnants of the dragon dissipating into harmless ripples.

Zabuza’s eyes narrowed as he saw the two boys standing tall atop the water.

Naruto held the Zweihander in one hand, his Drake Sword in the other.

“Hey, Zabuza,” Naruto called out. “How hard is life with no eyebrows?”

Zabuza felt a vein pop in his head.

Sasuke smirked. “And how ugly do you have to be to wear bandages as a mask?”

The two boys stood on opposite ends, the water beneath them rippling slightly with their chakra control.

Kakashi, trapped in the Water Prison, watched them with a mixture of pride and disbelief. Sasuke… he must’ve copied it with his Sharingan.

His gaze shifted to the boy covered in armour and splinters. How did Naruto figure out water-walking so quickly?

“Run!” Kakashi shouted. “Zabuza is not someone you can fight!”

But neither boy moved.

Zabuza chuckled, low and guttural. The mist around him seemed to grow thicker, darker, as his voice cut through the silence, each word laced with malice.

“You think you can stand and fight me?” he growled, his grip tightening on the

Kubikiribōchō. His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, yet somehow louder than the mist-shrouded battlefield itself. “Do you know what it takes to survive as a shinobi of Kirigakure? To earn the right to wear this headband?”

His eyes gleamed with cold amusement as he began to step forward, his boots splashing lightly against the water.

“When I was your age, I had to kill my entire class just to graduate—hundreds of my peers, all desperate, all promising, all eager to live.” His words dripped with venom. “And I slaughtered them. Every. Last. One.”

His mouth curled into a sadistic grin beneath his bandages. “Their screams, their tears, their pathetic begging—I felt nothing. Because that’s what it means to be a shinobi. No rules, no bonds, no mercy. I didn’t hesitate, and because of that, I survived. I became a demon. And now…”

Zabuza stopped, his bloodlust rolling off him in waves, suffocating the air like a vice.

“You tell me, you little brats… what makes you think you can stand against me?”

Zabuza unleashed the full weight of his killer intent. It hit like a tidal wave, invisible but crushing, crashing over the battlefield with such intensity that Tazuna’s body crumpled to the dock, unconscious before he even realized what had happened.

Kakashi’s mind raced, panic rising in his chest. He needed a plan—needed to find a way to escape and keep his team safe. They were too young, too inexperienced, and Zabuza wasn’t bluffing. This was a monster in human form.

But then…

To Kakashi’s shock, Zabuza’s killer intent barely fazed his team.

“Wow,” Naruto replied. “Not only do you have no eyebrows, but you’re a loser who thinks killing his classmates makes him strong. You climbed over a pile of corpses to get where you are.”

Naruto’s pointed his blade toward Zabuza. “I guess that’s the difference between you and us. You’re just a monster who fought alone. But we? We’re a team.”

Sasuke’s voice followed. “We were taught something you’d never understand.”

Team 7 spoke together, their voices resolute, like a mantra etched into their very souls. “In the ninja world, those who break the rules are scum… but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.”

Kakashi’s heart skipped a beat as their words echoed in his mind—words he’d once lived by, taught to him by someone he’d never forget.

Zabuza paused for a moment, as if weighing their words. Then, he laughed as he stepped back dissolving into the swirling mist. His voice followed, slithering through the fog, disembodied yet suffocatingly close.

“Run if you want to live, brats,” he hissed. “But if you choose to stay… you’ll learn the hard way. Demons don’t play by your rules.”

The fight was about to begin, and Team 7 knew one thing for certain: this wasn’t just a battle for victory. It was a battle to survive.