TN: First of all, I want to apologize for disappearing for almost two months without saying anything.
A lot of things happened during that time. I had to deal with my thesis, school requirements, final defense, final examinations, and, finally, graduation. Needless to say, it was an extremely busy and exhausting period for me.
There were also times when I was technically free, but I was either too tired to translate anything or I had to deal with some personal problems, so I just couldn't bring myself to work on it.
I know that isn't much of an excuse, especially since I wasn't able to let everyone know what was going on, and I'm genuinely sorry for that. I know some of you have been waiting patiently for updates, and I really appreciate all of you for sticking around.
I also want to reassure everyone that I have absolutely no intention of dropping this fic. I love this story far too much to abandon it, and I fully intend to continue translating it.
I can't promise a perfectly consistent schedule, but I can promise that I'll continue working on it.
Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy the story alongside me.
Anyway, that's all from me. Sorry for the long note, and enjoy the chapter!
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Raikage A was left a little dizzy after Mufasa's bizarre trick of casually lying down and mocking his posture.
But even so, the Raikage never forgot the core principles of power and leadership.
"You always claim that a person's life amounts to nothing more than a glass of water, a bowl of rice, a bed, and eventually a handful of dirt," Raikage A said, his tone sharp. "Yet here you are, stirring up storms and moving mountains. If you believe that's all life is, then why not just stay in the Sand Village and live quietly with your glass of water, your bowl of rice, and your bed?"
He glared at Mufasa, his eyes filled with suspicion, like a man trying to pierce through the veil of a trickster. In his mind, all liars had that same calm face.
Mufasa only shook his head and let out a soft sigh.
"Why," he muttered. "Who in this world could truly understand me?"
The sadness in his expression made the Raikage falter for a moment. Had he judged too quickly?
Mufasa straightened, his voice now steady and solemn. "I do these things so that everyone can enjoy that water, that rice, and that bed more fully. You see—there isn't just one kind of water. There are mountain springs, river water, and the salty expanse of the sea. Rice isn't only plain white—it can be seasoned, topped, or drawn fresh from the ocean's bounty. And a bed—beds can be wooden, stone, hammocks swinging over the sea breeze, or even a villa's grand chamber."
His eyes glimmered with conviction. "What I seek is freedom—the freedom for all people to choose their glass of water, their bowl of rice, and their bed. In the future, even the burdens of labor will be lifted, handled by creations of our own making, leaving people free to live and dream without chains."
Raikage A's brow furrowed. His heart wrestled with the strange words. He did not fully understand this vision, but the weight of Mufasa's conviction left him shaken.
"So you're not going to conquer the world?" he asked at last.
Mufasa gave a quiet chuckle. "There's no point in conquering the world. Claiming land and territory… that's a child's game. Those things are outdated dreams. Why would I waste my time?"
The Raikage studied him for a long moment, then broke into a half-smile. "Then there's nothing more to argue."
Later, he invited the Kazekage to a meal, but Mufasa politely excused himself—urgent news had arrived from the Sand.
He had matters to attend to.
That night, Raikage A stood alone on the balcony of the Raikage Tower. The mountain winds whipped against his cloak, making it billow like storm clouds in the night. A
t his side stood Darui and the Two-Tails' jinchūriki, Yugito Nii. All three were silent for a time.
Finally, the Raikage spoke. His voice was low but heavy with intent. "Darui, go to Unraikyō. Tell Killer B to be ready."
Darui's eyes widened. "My lord, are you saying you mean to fight?"
The Raikage nodded gravely. "Mufasa is strong—perhaps stronger than me. The only way to truly stand against him is if Killer B and I strike together."
Darui hesitated. "Do you mean… to defeat the Kazekage?"
"I believe he could become the greatest obstacle the shinobi world will ever face," Raikage A answered. "That's why we must prepare now."
He turned to his subordinates. "Inform the scientific division to accelerate their research. I want our village's equipment upgraded immediately. The world is shifting, and I will not allow the Hidden Cloud to fall behind. And another thing—ban the influx of ninja tools from rival villages. We will not let them grow fat off our coin."
Darui and Yugito bowed their heads, acknowledging the command. The ninja world had entered a new age of turmoil, and they could all feel it brewing in the air.
Meanwhile, far away at the desert coast of the Hidden Sand…
Night draped itself across the dunes like a dark cloak. The Sand shinobi army was deep in training exercises when the quiet was broken by a sudden, violent attack from the sea.
The soldiers stiffened. To strike at the Sand itself—such audacity was suicide.
Alarms were raised instantly. The shinobi mobilized in perfect sync.
"Sound the alert!"
The deep, mournful wail of sirens echoed across the sands. Drones soared into the sky, casting searching beams across the waves. Flares burst above, painting the sea in harsh white light.
From the darkness emerged a shape no one expected.
A massive steel battleship, cutting through the waters like a beast from another world.
After the enemy battleship was exposed, its cannons roared, hurling shells toward the coast where the Sand Shinobi forces were stationed. The sea itself seemed to tremble with the bombardment.
In the past, such firepower would have left the Sand Shinobi helpless. But now?
When it came to weapons, siege machines, and experimental tech, the Sand Village had learned to adapt faster than anyone.
Gaara lifted his hand.
A massive sandstorm surged upward, swallowing the incoming cannonballs in an instant.
They exploded harmlessly in the air, the shockwaves muffled by the shifting dunes of chakra-infused sand.
His pale eyes narrowed as he glared at the ships anchored offshore.
"Sink them."
His voice was cold, absolute.
Whoever dared target Sunagakure would pay dearly.
The Sand Shinobi unleashed their counterattack. Tanks hidden beneath camouflage rolled forward, their barrels spitting shells back at the sea. Overhead, drone-like puppets took flight, pelting the ships with barrages of chakra missiles.
One massive construct, a concentric puppet with magnetic coils, fired an electromagnetic blast that split the horizon with lightning.
The crews aboard the battleship froze. The storm of retaliation was overwhelming. "What the hell is this?!" one soldier screamed.
Barrages of shells and missiles closed in from every direction.
The commander of the ship, a man from a far-off kingdom, bellowed in panic, "Evasive maneuvers! Hide! Anything!"
But it was pointless. The warship couldn't outrun the onslaught.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Explosions ripped across the steel hull. The engine room erupted in flames, smoke billowing skyward. The battleship groaned as its systems failed and drifted helplessly on the waves.
Seeing the vessel falter, Gaara advanced with two squads of Sand Shinobi, boarding hooks and chakra cables dragging them onto the ruined deck. They stormed the ship and found warriors clad in strange half-plate armor, wielding crude weapons in defiance. They charged at the shinobi with reckless fury.
Gaara scoffed. "Pathetic."
The Sand shinobi raised their rifles and kunai launchers. Gunfire echoed through the steel corridors. The armored warriors fell, one after another.
Then a figure in full knight's armor stepped forward, sword gleaming. His helm hid his face, but his voice was sharp. "So this is how shinobi fight? With trickery and machines? You shame yourselves."
Gaara's eyes stayed calm, unreadable. "And you bombarded my village with cannons. Don't speak of shame."
The knight stiffened. He was Commander Temujin, leader of the foreign crew. He raised his blade. "I will not surrender. If you want me alive, you'll have to take me."
Gaara lifted his palm. "Sand Coffin."
Sand slithered along the floor, coiling around Temujin's legs, rising fast to crush him.
But suddenly, the knight's sword blazed with chakra light, extending like a beam of energy. With one sweep, he cut the sand apart. The steel walls shook from the force.
Gaara's brow furrowed. "Strange… is it the blade or the wielder?"
Temujin lunged forward, blade stabbing through Gaara's chest—only for his target to collapse into a pile of sand. A clone.
The real Gaara's voice echoed from the cabin doorway. "Sand Release: Bodhisattva Gatling."
From his side rose a massive sand construct, a towering Bodhisattva with four arms—each holding a rotating sand-made Gatling gun.
The knight faltered. He barely had a moment to comprehend before the weapons spun up. A hailstorm of chakra bullets shredded the cabin.
Temujin dodged, rolled, swung his sword desperately, but the tight quarters left him no space to breathe.
Each blocked wave of bullets was followed instantly by another.
Finally, his sword was struck from his hand. The storm of sand-bullets hammered his armor, forcing him to the ground.
Gaara's sand wrapped around him once more, binding him in a crushing grip.
"Struggle all you want," Gaara said, his eyes like steel. "If you value your life, be still."
In the Kazekage's office, Mufasa studied the prisoner they had dragged before him.
A young man with long blond hair, too clean-cut to be a hardened soldier, yet his eyes burned with defiance beneath the knight's helm.
Mufasa sighed, rubbing his temple. "So tell me—why attack the Sand Shinobi? What reason do you have? Did we offend your people somehow?"
His gaze sharpened, voice low. "And lastly, who the hell are you?"
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Word count: 1477
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