Naruto: After Seclusion Becoming Naruto Grandfather

Escape. Run. Flee with everything he had.

Mifune had lost track of how long he had been on the run. Once, he could count his heartbeats with precision, but now even his breathing was erratic.

He knew he was nearing the border of the Iron Country.

The behavior of his pursuers betrayed their impatience. Initially, they had remained hidden, attacking from the shadows. Now, their presence was brazen, their footsteps just three hundred meters behind him.

That distance was the exact range of his Slash—a fact the pursuing ninjas had learned at the cost of nearly ten lives.

"So, you won't even give me the chance to fight back?"

Mifune glanced over his shoulder at the growing number of ninjas chasing him. Despair began to creep into his heart.

He knew escape was unlikely.

The force behind him was more than enough to corner and kill him. Their hesitation to act was merely a ploy to exhaust him further, reducing unnecessary casualties. They were also waiting for reinforcements—more formidable ninjas who could capture him with certainty.

If that was the case...

Mifune's resolve solidified. His eyes flashed with determination as he stopped abruptly, planting his feet firmly into the ground.

Clad in pale green armor, he stomped the earth with a force that shook the ground, sending up clouds of dust and debris.

"A samurai never dies with a wound of shame on his back," he declared, his voice thunderous.

"Ninjas of the Five Great Ninja Villages, come at me!"

Mifune crouched slightly, one hand resting on the hilt of his katana. His cold gaze swept over the gathered ninjas, noting the insignias on their forehead protectors: Konoha, Kumo, Iwa, and more. Representatives from nearly every great village were present.

Such an alliance among the Five Great Ninja Villages was unprecedented, and it spoke volumes about the fear and anger the samurai rebellion had stirred.

A bitter smile crept onto Mifune's face.

"Hah. So even you so-called emotionless ninjas fear us defeated samurai?"

"How amusing... and oddly satisfying."

His voice echoed across the battlefield, but none of the ninjas responded.

They stood frozen, their eyes cold and emotionless, like statues. Only the faint traces of wariness in their expressions proved they were not lifeless.

"None of you dare move?"

"Then I shall make the first move!"

Mifune didn't wait. With a deep breath, he cleared his mind of distractions. The blade in his hand glimmered as his battle intent surged, sharp and focused.

In a single motion, his figure merged with the silver arc of his blade, streaking toward a Sand ninja standing in the group.

The ninja of Sunagakure panicked.

Known for their expertise in puppetry and unique bloodline techniques, the ninja of the Sand were notoriously weak in close combat. This vulnerability had cost them dearly in the Third Ninja War when they faced the swordsmanship of Konoha's legendary Sakumo Hatake.

Now, against Mifune—another master swordsman—they found themselves equally outmatched.

"Damn it! Don't underestimate the Sand Village!" the ninja shouted, thrusting his palm forward. A cyan wind blade materialized, sharp and deadly.

But—

The wind blade, condensed from chakra, was no match for the katana of the Iron Country's general.

Shing!

The moment the katana met the wind blade, it shattered into nothingness. The silver light of the sword continued forward, slicing cleanly through the Sand ninja.

Bright red blood spilled onto the ground, and the Sand ninja's cries of agony echoed through the battlefield.

The remaining ninjas from the other great villages recoiled, their pupils shrinking in fear.

Without a second thought, they began to retreat.

There was no attempt to avenge or rescue their fallen comrade.

Mifune laughed bitterly, his voice ringing out.

"Come on, you cowards!"

"Didn't you come to kill me?"

But before he could say more, a sigh broke through the tense silence.

The sound sent a chill down Mifune's spine. His face paled as he turned toward the source.

A burly, middle-aged man with long, wild white hair and a ronin's outfit stood less than ten meters away.

The kanji for "oil" was etched onto the man's forehead protector, and Mifune's heart sank.

A bitter smile crossed his face.

"One of the Three Legendary Sannin..."

"I suppose there's no escape for me now."