Chapter 157: The Slug and the Sage's Path
"Tsunade?"
Ragnar paused, his hand on the tent flap. He was fully prepared to slip out of the camp, but his self-declared big sister had preempted him.
"Yo, all geared up for a little trip?" Tsunade stepped inside, her keen eyes taking in his ready state. She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. This guy… every time he left camp, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. Peace and quiet seemed to flee from his very presence.
"My strength has mostly recovered," he said, his tone casual. "I was planning to scout the perimeter, get a feel for how our positions have shifted."
Tsunade made herself at home, dropping into the room's lone chair with a familiar ease. Her sharp, beautiful eyes studied him with an intensity that was both appraising and affectionate. "What?" Ragnar asked, feeling a flicker of bemusement under her gaze.
A slow smile spread across Tsunade's face. "Little brother, are you aware that the entire shinobi world is in an uproar right now?"
"I fail to see how that concerns me," Ragnar replied, his expression unchanging. His focus was a laser beam: strength, evolution, survival. The political gossip of nations was background noise.
Seeing his genuine indifference, Tsunade shook her head in a mix of admiration and exasperation. So unflappable.
The feat of single-handedly decimating the combined forces of Iwa and Suna in their opening gambit had spread across the continents like a wildfire in dry grass. It was too vast, too shocking to contain. Ragnar was no longer just a promising name in Konoha; he was a phenomenon discussed in hushed, fearful tones in every Kage's office. Not a rising star, but a supernova that had already detonated, its light and shockwave reaching every corner of the world. He had, by any measure, stepped into the rarefied tier of the world's most powerful beings.
"Brother, you have no idea the chaos you've stirred. It's all anyone can talk about," Tsunade pressed, watching for a reaction.
"Oh." The syllable was flat, delivered without a hint of pride or interest.
Tsunade had expected this, but seeing his utterly placid face still provoked a twinge of frustration. "If it were my idiot brother Nawaki, his head would be so swollen it'd blot out the sun by now."
"It's normal for children to seek validation," Ragnar stated, as if discussing the weather.
"Child? You're not much older than him! Looking at you and then looking at him… sometimes I feel the Senju line has grown weak." The words were a complaint, but laced with a deep, familial worry.
Ragnar looked at her, his gaze frank. "That's an unfair comparison, Tsunade. Comparing anyone to me is a shortcut to disappointment." He wasn't boasting; it was a clinical assessment, a warning. He saw the hope she placed in Nawaki, the shadow of the Senju legacy she wanted him to uphold. The higher the hope, the more devastating the fall. He didn't want to see her hurt.
"…"
Tsunade was momentarily speechless. Talking to Ragnar was like talking to a particularly insightful wall—solid, unyielding, and occasionally dispensing uncomfortable truths. She changed the subject, gesturing towards the exit. "Before you vanish, you should check in with Sakumo."
"I intend to," Ragnar nodded.
Seeing she had run out of ways to puncture his calm, Tsunade waved a dismissive hand. "Fine, go on then."
Ragnar turned to leave, but as his fingers brushed the coarse canvas of the tent flap, her voice stopped him again. "Wait."
He glanced back. "Something else?"
Tsunade's expression grew serious, a faint frown of concentration appearing between her brows. She brought her hands together in a rapid, precise sequence of seals.
Bang!
A puff of white smoke erupted in her palm, dissolving to reveal a small, pale creature. It was mostly white with subtle blue markings, and had two slender, eyestalk-like tentacles on its head, giving it the appearance of a shell-less snail.
"A slug," Ragnar observed, though he feigned ignorance. "What is that?"
"Tsunade-sama," the little creature murmured in a soft, ethereal voice.
"Mm," Tsunade acknowledged, then turned her attention back to Ragnar. "This is a slug. My summon."
"A summon?" Ragnar prompted.
"Ninjutsu is only one path to power for a shinobi," Tsunade explained, her tone becoming instructional. "Another is through summoning contracts. Many powerful ninjas form pacts with ancient clans of summon creatures. They can be called upon in battle for assistance. They come in many types—combat, reconnaissance, tracking… My slugs are a rarer variety: medical-nin summons."
"And you're showing me this because…?"
"Ragnar," she said, her gaze steady. "Your strength has already surpassed mine. I have little left to teach you in the conventional sense. This slug is a clone of the Slug Sage herself. If you carry her with you, she can provide healing if you're injured, even from a distance."
Ragnar tilted his head, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips. "So it's a spy, then? To keep tabs on me?"
"Idiot!" Tsunade's composure broke, a flush of irritation coloring her cheeks. "Normally, the clone remains in a dormant state! It only awakens if it senses you are in combat or sustain injuries, at which point it can transfer healing chakra! It's for your protection, you ungrateful brat!"
A genuine, if small, smile appeared on Ragnar's face. "I see. Then I accept. If I can't trust my comrades in Konoha, who can I trust?"
He had never intended to refuse. The appearance of the slug represented a potential key to something far greater: the secrets of Sage Mode. He knew of the three great sage regions: Mount Myōboku, the home of the toads; Ryūchi Cave, the domain of the snakes; and the mysterious Shikkotsu Forest, realm of the slugs. While the toads and snakes had their defined Sage Modes, the slugs' path was more enigmatic. Their mystery wasn't necessarily a mark of greater power, but of profound unity. Every slug ever summoned in the shinobi world was said to be a division, a clone, of a single, ancient consciousness: the Slug Sage herself. Whether summoned by Tsunade now, or by another in a distant future, they were all fragments of one whole. A sage that was also a tribe. The concept was uniquely profound.
"Ragnar-sama," the little slug piped up, its voice a gentle chime. "Your energy… it feels very special."
"I like it very much," it added, already beginning to inch its way from Tsunade's palm onto Ragnar's shoulder. Its tiny body was cool and slightly damp, but not unpleasantly so.
"It seems you two are compatible," Tsunade noted, some of her irritation fading into relief.
"My energy is special?" Ragnar pondered. What could it be sensing? The unique chakra born from his Devil Fruit abilities? Or perhaps the way his constant use of Observation Haki had gradually refined his body, attuning it closer to the natural energy of the world? The power of the sages was, after all, the power of nature itself. As a fragment of the Slug Sage, this little clone would be supremely sensitive to such things.
Tsunade, while bound by a generational contract to the slugs, had not yet walked the path of the sage. She might not fully comprehend what her summon was sensing in him.
"Alright," Tsunade said, her posture relaxing. "I'll entrust this little one to you. Be good to her. She's quite sensitive."
"Don't worry," Ragnar said, his tone sincere. "I won't let any toads near her."
"…" The little slug on his shoulder gave a minute, thoughtful wiggle of its tentacles.
(End of Chapter)
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