Heavy steps met by soft sands, skin blistered underfoot, the desert's heat was unforgiving.
Yet the one walking didn't feel pain, in fact it was more relaxing than expected.
Yuuto, was beyond different. His body had undergone a dangerous and vile transformation, he now had four arms, a bone-like potrusion in his face, multiple eyes. The most glaring, a mouth that rested on his stomach. As if a direct line into his body.
The exorcised cursed seals on his body hummed with energy. While not storing their original curse, they were now filled with a new one.
As though his very existence filled the hole that had been carved into them.
Despite the groteque body horror that had occurred, a newfound power was growing within him. A new path to strength.
Yuuto walked with two cloaked figures trailing behind him. The had ninja wire attached to hook-like spear tips that penetrated the carcass of a sand shark.
A simple creature that was like a cross between shark and wyrm. This one was young, not quite a child but definitely not an adult.
The two cloaked figures were lifeless in their gait, they smoothly traversed over the sands, hovering delicately while two of Yuuto's four hands controlled extremely thin lines of chakra threads connected to them.
His third hand held another item twirling it between his fingers, it radiated with the scorching heat of a desert as well. Almost as if it was made of a piece of the desert's sun.
Yuuto's last hand (the only one visibly outside of his cloak) held a book. 'The Art of Borrowed Reality', a manuiscript about the art of Genjutsu, the arrt of implanting belief into your target.
Two of his eyes focused on the pages, the others focused on what was ahead. It was interesting to control so many 'pieces' of your body independently like this. In essence it was like puppeteering, a way for him to constantly apply the staple of his shinobi training to such a simple, yet integral part of every day life.
The Hollowed Puppeteer would have an uneventful walk from here if none approached. He was focused on his book and controlling his multiple techniques, too focused to be worried about others.
[Country Entered / Topic Left]
Yet the one walking didn't feel pain, in fact it was more relaxing than expected.
Yuuto, was beyond different. His body had undergone a dangerous and vile transformation, he now had four arms, a bone-like potrusion in his face, multiple eyes. The most glaring, a mouth that rested on his stomach. As if a direct line into his body.
The exorcised cursed seals on his body hummed with energy. While not storing their original curse, they were now filled with a new one.
As though his very existence filled the hole that had been carved into them.
Despite the groteque body horror that had occurred, a newfound power was growing within him. A new path to strength.
Yuuto walked with two cloaked figures trailing behind him. The had ninja wire attached to hook-like spear tips that penetrated the carcass of a sand shark.
A simple creature that was like a cross between shark and wyrm. This one was young, not quite a child but definitely not an adult.
The two cloaked figures were lifeless in their gait, they smoothly traversed over the sands, hovering delicately while two of Yuuto's four hands controlled extremely thin lines of chakra threads connected to them.
His third hand held another item twirling it between his fingers, it radiated with the scorching heat of a desert as well. Almost as if it was made of a piece of the desert's sun.
Yuuto's last hand (the only one visibly outside of his cloak) held a book. 'The Art of Borrowed Reality', a manuiscript about the art of Genjutsu, the arrt of implanting belief into your target.
Two of his eyes focused on the pages, the others focused on what was ahead. It was interesting to control so many 'pieces' of your body independently like this. In essence it was like puppeteering, a way for him to constantly apply the staple of his shinobi training to such a simple, yet integral part of every day life.
The Hollowed Puppeteer would have an uneventful walk from here if none approached. He was focused on his book and controlling his multiple techniques, too focused to be worried about others.
[Country Entered / Topic Left]