After confirming that the unconscious ninja was indeed a member of Root, Shanks chose not to kill him with his sword. Instead, he calmly sheathed the blade into its scabbard, then reached out with his right hand—his only hand—and gripped the ninja by the neck.
Without hesitation, he crushed the man's throat with a single, brutal motion. The snap of bone echoed quietly through the trees.
Once the deed was done, Shanks bent down and lifted the lifeless body. Despite having only one arm, he handled the task with practiced efficiency, slinging the corpse over his shoulder with ease.
Earlier that morning, just before he'd taken a short rest in his carriage, Shanks had thoroughly scouted this entire area. He'd been checking for any sign of an ambush or tail, but at the time, he'd found nothing suspicious. What he had found, however, was a pack of wild hyenas roaming a section of the nearby forest. And now, those scavengers were about to receive an unexpected meal.
Grabbing the corpse of the second fallen Root ninja as well, Shanks set off toward that spot. It was roughly two kilometers from his current position—a short distance for someone with his speed. With both bodies in tow, he vanished into the woods, silent and efficient, like a shadow moving through the underbrush.
Shanks let out a quiet sigh.
"It's such a hassle having only one hand," he muttered. "If I still had both, carrying all four of these bodies at once wouldn't be an issue."
He arrived at the spot he had scouted earlier, the one where he'd seen the hyenas, and unceremoniously dropped the two corpses he was carrying. The scent of blood quickly permeated the air. Moments later, the first of the hyenas began to emerge from the underbrush, drawn by the promise of fresh meat.
Shanks didn't linger to watch.
Without a backward glance, he turned and made his way back to the site of the battle. There, he retrieved the remaining two corpses of the fallen Root ninjas. Again, with practiced efficiency, he carried them—one at a time, due to his single arm—back to the hyenas' feeding ground.
By the time he returned with the last two bodies, the clearing was already alive with the sounds of tearing flesh and low growls. Several hyenas were hunched over the corpses, feeding aggressively.
Shanks tossed down the final two bodies beside the others and gave the gruesome scene one last glance. Then, without a word, he turned and began the walk back toward his clan's encampment, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of the trees.
----
Shanks returned to the location where his clan members were waiting, still huddled inside their carriages. Everyone had been anxiously praying for his safe return, fear and uncertainty weighing heavily in the silence.
Then, just as tension peaked, they heard his voice from outside.
"All clear," Shanks called out calmly. "The enemies have been neutralized. There's no need to come out—we'll be moving out shortly, so stay inside the carriages."
A collective sigh of relief swept through those inside. The moment they heard Shanks' steady voice confirming his safety, the dread that had gripped them began to ease.
Shanks' voice rang out again. "Erza, bring me a bucket of water—add the scent-removing herbs to it."
Without delay, Erza emerged from one of the carriages. She moved with swift efficiency, not wasting a second. Kneeling down, she formed a quick hand seal and unsealed a large bucket of water from one of her storage scrolls. Then, using another scroll, she summoned a bundle of dried herbs and immediately began mixing them into the water.
Shanks stepped forward to assist, helping her stir the mixture with his right hand. Despite having only one arm, his movements were precise and practiced.
Once the bucket of herb-infused water was ready, Shanks took it and, without a second thought, poured it over himself. Fully clothed in his shirt, pants, and long black overcoat, he let the water soak through every layer. The fabric clung to him, dripping, but he didn't flinch. With the remaining water, he carefully washed down his sword and scabbard, making sure every trace of blood was rinsed away.
He wasn't doing this for comfort.
Shanks knew the scent of blood—especially that of Root operatives—could linger. If any trace remained on him or his weapon, it could be picked up by tracking dogs or sensory-type shinobi. In the event of an investigation, that kind of oversight could point straight back to him and the Uzumaki Clan.
Erza watched him quietly, then said, "Onii-chan, wait a moment—I'll go grab a change of clothes for you."
Shanks shook his head. "No need. We're in a hurry. We need to leave this place as soon as possible."
He turned toward the edge of the makeshift camp. "Come with me. Help me untether those three horses."
Erza blinked in confusion. "Untether them? You mean move them over to the carriages, right? Tie them up to pull us?"
Again, Shanks shook his head. "No. We're setting them free—completely."
"What?" Erza asked, puzzled. "Then how are we going to travel? On foot?"
Shanks glanced back at her, calm and resolute. "I'll pull the carriage myself. I can move it faster on my own than those horses ever could."
Erza looked at him, worry etched across her face. "But... doing that will drain a lot of your chakra. You'll exhaust yourself."
Shanks met her gaze calmly. "I know what you're trying to say, Erza. But this is the best course of action we have right now."
He turned slightly, scanning the treeline with practiced eyes as he continued.
"This wasn't an attack squad—it was a scouting team. If they were here to fight, they would've launched a coordinated assault the moment they found us. But they didn't. They stayed hidden, just watching us. And when I woke up earlier... I felt it. One of them released a bird—a messenger bird, most likely."
He paused, voice steady but serious.
"That means more teams are on the way. Reinforcements. Maybe even someone much stronger. If it's just a mid-level operative, I can deal with them. But if someone truly dangerous is leading this mission... then it could spell disaster for all of us."
Erza lowered her eyes. She clenched her fists, frustration building inside her. She wanted to help, to carry even a part of the burden—but she couldn't. Not with her current strength. Everything—every risk, every weight—was falling on Shanks' shoulders alone.
Sensing her emotions, Shanks softened his tone. "Don't let it get to you. We don't have time for guilt right now. What I need from you is simple—go gather all the ropes we have. We need to tie the carriages together securely."
He looked toward the wagons. "Once I start running, I'll be moving at full speed. I can't risk anything getting detached or tipping over."
Erza nodded quickly and turned, sprinting back toward the carriage to collect the ropes. She might not be able to carry the load, but she could still be the support Shanks needed.
----
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