In the days that followed, while Konoha and Sunagakure glared at each other across a front thick with the scent of gunpowder, the Land of Rivers stood apart—a rare pocket of calm.
There was, after all, nothing here worth fighting for.
Rivers upon rivers—barren islands of eroded soil where farming was nearly impossible.
Could someone use this route to sneak into the Land of Fire? Sure—on a small scale. But a large army trying to circle around this way? That would be suicide. The supply lines simply couldn't make it through.
Given that, it was no surprise the area remained quiet.
If this were only Konoha versus Sunagakure, Konoha could have beaten them until they begged for mercy.
But—Iwagakure had joined the fray.
After Sunagakure cleared Konoha's southwestern outposts, Iwa-nin forces invaded from the north through the Land of Grass.
What began as a duel had turned into a brawl.
And Iwagakure's entry meant only one thing— this was no longer a war between villages. It was a World War of Shinobi.
With three of the Five Great Hidden Villages already fighting, could the other two—Kumogakure and Kirigakure—really stay out of it?
Even if they hadn't yet moved, Konoha had no choice but to reinforce all borders.
Its position at the center of the continent, normally a blessing, had now become a curse.
Under the burden of fighting on multiple fronts, even though Konoha was the strongest of the Five, its forces were spread too thin— and when facing Sunagakure, it was actually at a disadvantage.
The Sand had committed everything they had. Konoha could only allocate a fraction of its power to that front. Naturally, they were pushed back.
All of this, but had little to do with Shien's team stationed in the Land of Rivers.
Their assignment was to protect a group of poisoned soldiers, so Konoha had not recalled them yet. They had been given a long-term mission.
Perfect.
In other words—they were being paid to rest.
Of course, that was only because the armies were still in a state of strategic standoff. Once full-scale war erupted, even they wouldn't be left idle.
Now you understand why Shien hadn't healed those poisoned ninja yet, right?
It wasn't just to conceal his medical ability— without those patients, this kind of cushy posting would never have lasted.
These days, Shien spent his afternoons by the riverside, fishing until late into the night.
As the team's strongest combatant (since Kobayashi Hei was injured and poisoned), he enjoyed certain privileges— and no one dared disturb him.
Once, he had resented those with special treatment. Now that he was the one enjoying it—
how fragrant that privilege suddenly smelled.
Yes, Shien was a complete hypocrite, and he made no apologies for it.
That evening, he again took his usual spot on the riverbank.
If one looked closely, they'd notice faint flashes of red and green light flickering through his pupils— not contact lenses, but residual traces of Natural Energy and Hashirama Cells.
Over this time, he could feel his chakra swelling wildly.
Anyone else would have exploded by now.
Each day, his physical strength, chakra, and fire affinity continued to climb— as though there were no limit.
"Big brother, thank you! This is our gift!"
A few half-naked children approached timidly, offering with both hands a small pink seashell that looked like it had been polished countless times.
They were residents of this little island—his current refuge.
Such was the state of the Land of Rivers.
Though the soil was pitifully poor, they managed to grow small beans and fish from the river—barely enough to survive.
If they weren't robbed first.
Bandits. Rogue ninja. Starving refugees. Disaster upon disaster.
The oldest person on the island was barely thirty, and everyone was so thin they looked like walking skeletons— a life of pure hell.
The reason they were grateful to Shien was simple: he had wiped out the Rivershore Bandit Gang.
Those thugs came every year to "collect taxes." And every time they did, several islanders starved to death afterward.
Now, with the bandits destroyed, it meant this year at least—they would live.
"…"
Staring into those clear, innocent eyes, Shien turned his gaze away, back toward the rippling river.
He wasn't some bleeding-heart saint. He wouldn't rush to save everyone just because they were pitiful— but he had his bottom line.
And the more he saw of this wretched world, the more he understood why people flocked to the great Hidden Villages.
At least there, one could live like a person. Outside them, you were lucky to even stay alive.
When the children saw he wouldn't answer, they carefully set the shell beside him and left, picking up sticks or digging at the hard ground with their bare hands to loosen soil and pull weeds.
Death and hunger— those were the true melodies of the shinobi world.
"…Forget it. I'll leave the saving to the saints."
Shien withdrew his gaze and opened his palm.
He wasn't wearing the Fist of Blazing Fire, yet a flame appeared from thin air, dancing and shifting shapes across his hand like a living thing.
Chakra Control.
This was one of his training methods.
All those fanfics he'd read before crossing over hadn't been for nothing— at least they'd given him ideas for practice.
Thanks to this technique, his chakra control had grown immensely precise.
By evening, a plump figure came running up the riverbank, shouting breathlessly before he even arrived.
"Come back! Someone's here!"
Hearing that, Shien frowned.
If possible, he would have preferred to stay in the Land of Rivers until the end of the war. Only a month had passed, and already someone was coming to fetch them? How impatient.
Still, he was curious to see who Konoha had sent.
"Let's go check it out," he said, rising to his feet.
He didn't even ask who it was— if Honda Taka had known, he would've said so already.
Soon, Shien reached the cliffside cavern that had been converted into a makeshift "hospital."
Dozens of wounded ninja lay within, tended by a few Genin serving as nurses.
The logistics team had already withdrawn midway back— the Sand-nin wouldn't bother chasing them.
Inside, there was someone new.
A young woman in a white nun-like uniform, round glasses on her face, and shoulder-length sandy blonde hair framing a gentle smile.
"I'm medical-nin Yakushi Nonō," she introduced herself politely.
"It's thanks to you, Shien-kun, that the poison hasn't spread further."
Yakushi Nonō.
An obscure name to most.
Had Shien not been a transmigrator, he might never have realized who she really was.
But he knew.
A Root Elite Operative.
Her true identity was that of a top intelligence agent of the Foundation.
Of course, her medical skills were genuinely first-rate—among the very best in Root. Her public persona as a kind-hearted medic was perfectly convincing.
Her gentle voice and warm demeanor made it impossible to suspect she was anything but what she appeared to be.
"Unfortunately, my ability is limited," Shien said, feigning regret.
"I couldn't remove the poison completely."
Life is a play—and acting is survival.
And if he were to compete in acting? He'd easily crush those pretty-boy idols from before he crossed worlds.
"You've done remarkably well already," Nonō said with a soft smile.
"The rest, leave to me."
Her tone, her expression— the perfect image of a kind elder sister.
But Shien knew full well her arrival wasn't coincidence.
Her presence here could mean only one thing— his vacation was nearly over.
With her level of medical ninjutsu, she could purge the Sand's poisons without breaking a sweat.
Which meant soon, their unit would be recalled.
Time for one last push.
Before the Shinobi World War swallowed everything, he had to complete his goal—
Sage Mode.
Two days later, while Yakushi Nonō was busy brewing antidotes, Shien accepted a "reconnaissance mission" and slipped away to a distant, desolate island.
He gazed at the windblown shore, feeling the rhythm of the natural energy pulsing faintly through the air.
"Sage Mode… here I come."
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