The night was coming to an end, and a sliver of pale light appeared on the horizon.
Aoki Yoru had been lying in wait for the entire night. His body was slightly stiff, his fingertips unconsciously tapped the ground, and his gaze was blank. He was completely bored. To avoid wasting stamina, he had stopped sensing the situation inside.
If he didn't know from the original series that the four of them eventually succeeded, he would have suspected they had died inside.
The sky gradually brightened, and birds chirped joyfully in the trees.
At that moment, a slight noise came from the cave entrance on the cliff, and Aoki Yoru quickly shifted his attention toward it.
After a while, four disheveled Ninjas stumbled out, each holding a weapon, their faces covered in smiles.
"Whew... we finally succeeded. I didn't expect that even with the ancestor's notes, we almost got caught several times. Ancestor Seimei truly is the forefather of our Land of Artisans; the traps he set are exquisite." Houki panted heavily as he remarked.
"Then congratulations on getting what you wished for."
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice rang out. The four were stunned for a moment before becoming alert. They grabbed their weapons and looked around warily. "Who's speaking?"
Whoosh—
Aoki Yoru suddenly appeared on a protruding rock near the cave entrance, arms crossed, looking at them playfully.
"Thank you for bringing out my treasures. Now, could you please return them to me?"
The four looked at the suddenly appearing Aoki Yoru and immediately raised their weapons, eyeing him warily. Houki said with a sinister expression, "Brat, no matter who you are, since you dared to follow us, be prepared to die."
After saying that, he shouted to his three companions, "Don't hold back! Use the Sacred Tools and kill him!"
Then, the weapons in their hands glowed brightly. The four grinned cruelly at Aoki Yoru. With the enhancement of the Sacred Tools, they felt as if they had inexhaustible Chakra, and their strength surged. This feeling was truly fantastic.
Zzzzt—
Aoki Yoru's figure vanished abruptly, like a flash of lightning.
The Shitenshoujin, who were still grinning cruelly a moment ago, only felt a blur before their eyes, and the man had already appeared behind them out of thin air.
Squelch, squelch, squelch, squelch—
Four faint cracking sounds rang out simultaneously, and a bright red bloodline appeared on each of their necks. The cruel grins were still frozen on their faces, but their bodies went limp and they fell straight down, silent forever.
Putting away his cracked Ninja sword, Aoki Yoru turned around and silently looked at the four fallen men.
A lion uses its full strength even when hunting a rabbit; he had no intention of showing off.
In case the opponent had some trump card, like the Pear Blossom Needles from the Tang Sect in his previous life, he might end up failing. He would not underestimate the heritage of the craftsmen in the Land of Artisans.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique"
A fireball erupted from Aoki Yoru's mouth, shooting toward the four corpses on the ground.
After the four bodies were burned to ash, Aoki Yoru leisurely stepped forward, picked up the four weapons, took out a scroll, and sealed the weapons inside.
Seeing the shapes of the four weapons appear on the scroll, Aoki Yoru nodded in satisfaction, rolled up the scroll, and tucked it into his robe.
He looked up at the brightening sky, suppressed the fatigue in his eyes, and hurried back to his residence. By the time he returned, the morning mist was slowly dispersing. He had a quick breakfast and soon fell into a deep sleep, yawning.
In the evening, the sky gradually darkened.
After a good sleep, Aoki felt much more refreshed. He got dressed and left the inn to explore the night scenery of the Land of Artisans.
Since the Land of Artisans was an absolutely neutral country recognized by the major powers, although the bulk of the profits were taken by the big nations, the peace since its founding kept it bustling.
Under the night sky, the Land of Artisans was brightly lit. The sound of hammers from blacksmith shops intertwined with the shouts of street vendors. Pedestrians moved in a steady stream, and the warm light from taverns and workshops reflected on the bluestone road. Even the evening breeze carried the scent of quenched metal and ale.
Aoki Yoru blended into the crowd, leisurely enjoying the night view. It was completely different from Konoha's night scene, filled with the focused atmosphere of craftsmen and the unique inclusive bustle of a neutral city-state.
...
Land of Iron
The only country in the Ninja World without Ninjas, using samurai as its military force, and a permanently neutral nation.
Located at the junction of the Land of Earth, the Land of Lightning, and the Land of Fire, and bordering the Land of Waterfall and the Land of Waves, it served as a natural geographic buffer zone.
Aoki Yoru spent half a month traversing the entire Land of Fire. He didn't use the Body Flicker Technique to travel, but instead measured the Land of Fire with his own feet.
He witnessed the local customs, the destitution of the commoners, and the extravagant luxury of the nobles and the wealthy.
Upon arriving in the Land of Iron, Aoki Yoru was stunned by the sight. Due to its status as a permanently neutral country and its unique geographical location, it had become a major transportation hub.
Ores from the Land of Earth, weapons from the Land of Lightning, and silks from the Land of Fire were displayed at the intersections. Merchants from various countries bargained in different accents, and samurai with katanas at their waists patrolled the streets to maintain order.
"It seems General Mifune is doing a better job than most people in the Ninja World."
Holding some Sixi Meatballs, Aoki Yoru wandered the streets, sighing with emotion as he observed the livelihoods of the people in the Land of Iron.
Walking all the way from the border of the Land of Iron to the capital, he found that the farmers here fared much better than those in the Land of Fire; at least their faces had some color.
Upon inquiry, he learned that the land tax here was only forty percent, with no other taxes to pay. In contrast, the various exorbitant taxes in the Land of Fire added up to over seventy percent, leaving the people in misery.
The Land of Iron had no Daimyo, only a General. Clearly, all of this was thanks to General Mifune, which made Aoki Yoru remark, "This guy Mifune can be considered an enlightened ruler."
Suddenly, a commotion broke out at the end of the street, and the crowd surged toward it like a tide. Aoki Yoru followed curiously and saw a stage erected in the center of the square at the end of the street.
Someone shouted at the top of their lungs, "Someone's on the stage! Lord Souma and Lord Retsuga are going to duel!"
"What? Really? Those two are the most popular young men in the Land of Iron. Are they going to decide who's the best of the younger generation?"
The square instantly became noisy, and everyone craned their necks to look at the stage.
Hearing the surrounding discussions, Aoki Yoru also looked at the stage with interest. The swordsmanship of the younger generation in the Land of Iron should be quite worth learning from!
Before long, two young samurai in light armor stepped onto the stage. Souma, on the left, had a calmness in his eyes that didn't match his age; Retsuga, on the right, wore a forehead protector and was brimming with eager energy.
"Start!"
At the referee's command, Retsuga took the initiative. He tapped his toes on the wooden boards and lunged forward like an arrow from a bow, his blade whistling through the air as it slashed toward Souma's face. Souma, however, was unfazed. He stepped aside and swung his blade in a steady arc.
"Clang—"
He precisely parried the attack, and sparks flew between the two blades.
Retsuga's attacks were fast and fierce, each strike carrying brute force that broke the wind, like a pouncing tiger.
Souma defended flawlessly, countering movement with stillness. Every block precisely deflected the opponent's force, as if he were patiently waiting for his prey to reveal a weakness.
Aoki Yoru stood in the crowd with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze scanning their moves, nodding from time to time.
Although their swordsmanship was immature, some of the deceptive and unique moves opened his eyes, and he felt they could be integrated into his own sword techniques.
Then Aoki Yoru rubbed his chin, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Well, it would be a pity to just leave like this. There are so many swordsmanship dojos in the Land of Iron; it would be a waste not to check them out."