Sosuke hurried forward, his aged eyes gleaming with pride as he presented the blade in both hands.
"This sword measures three feet seven inches in total length, with a blade length of two feet five inches," he said slowly, his tone filled with confidence. "Its body is light, yet nearly indestructible. The draw is as swift as Iaijutsu itself, and I, this old man, guarantee that its sharpness and resilience are no inferior to the legendary Kusanagi Sword."
Aoki Yoru accepted the blade and examined it carefully.
The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, he felt an immediate connection—as if the weapon had been waiting for him all along.
Without hesitation, he infused a thread of Chakra into the blade.
Buzz—
A faint hum resonated through the air.
The sword lit up instantly, emitting a soft glow that mirrored the color of his Chakra. The blade seemed to awaken, responding eagerly to his energy.
Aoki Yoru swung it lightly.
Whoosh!
The air in front of him split apart. A nearly invisible blade of wind shot forward, slicing through space itself. In the distance, a thick wooden pillar shuddered before being cleanly severed, its upper half sliding off with a dull thud.
Aoki Yoru's eyes narrowed slightly, then softened with satisfaction.
He sheathed the blade and cupped his fists toward Sosuke.
"Thank you, Master Sosuke. This is an exceptional weapon. You truly deserve your reputation as one of the greatest craftsmen in the Land of Artisans."
Sosuke stroked his beard, his face lighting up with genuine joy.
"As long as you are satisfied, that is enough for me," he replied warmly. "This blade resonates perfectly with your aura. In the future, it will surely accompany you to the peak of the Ninja World and become a legendary weapon passed down through generations."
He paused, then smiled meaningfully.
"You are its master now. Give it a name."
Aoki Yoru lowered his gaze to the sword at his waist.
His fingers brushed gently across the scabbard as he fell into thought.
After a moment, he looked up.
"Let's call it… Yerun."
Sosuke's eyes brightened instantly.
"Yerun… a meteor of the night," he murmured approvingly. "Forged from meteoric iron, shining in darkness—yes, this name suits it perfectly!"
Then, as if remembering something, Sosuke rubbed his hands together awkwardly. His expression turned slightly embarrassed.
"Well… dear guest… about the leftover scraps from the forging process… would you mind leaving them with this old man? They are rare materials, after all. It would be a pity to waste them."
Aoki Yoru blinked, then nearly laughed.
In truth, this was an unspoken rule among craftsmen—leftover materials typically belonged to the smith. However, given how precious these materials were, Sosuke clearly felt uncomfortable asking outright.
Aoki Yoru waved his hand casually.
"Please keep them, Master. Consider it my thanks for forging such a fine blade for me… especially since you didn't charge anything."
Sosuke froze for a moment.
Then his face broke into a wide, heartfelt smile. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened as he repeatedly cupped his fists.
"Thank you! Thank you! If you ever need another weapon, just come find me. I will forge it for you free of charge!"
Aoki Yoru returned the gesture politely.
"Then I shall take you up on that offer in the future."
With that, he turned and left.
Walking down the street, Aoki Yoru rested his hand lightly on Yerun at his waist.
A subtle sense of reassurance filled his chest.
For the first time in a long while, his steps felt lighter.
The Land of Hot Springs
Located northeast of the Land of Fire, the Land of Hot Springs lay between several small nations, including the Land of Sound and the Land of Moon.
Its terrain was mostly mountainous and hilly, dotted with countless natural hot springs. Warm mist lingered in the air year-round, giving the land a dreamlike quality.
Yet beneath this peaceful façade lay a different reality.
Aoki Yoru walked along a winding dirt road that cut through the countryside.
On either side stood low, worn farmhouses. The fields were sparse, and the soil appeared poorly maintained.
The people he passed looked thin and weary.
Their faces were pale, their backs hunched from years of labor.
When they noticed the sword at his waist, they instinctively lowered their heads and stepped aside, avoiding him as if he were something dangerous.
Aoki Yoru's gaze darkened slightly.
After leaving the Land of Artisans, he had deliberately chosen this route.
The Land of Hot Springs, along with the Land of Sound and the Land of Moon, acted as buffer states between the Land of Fire and the Land of Lightning.
In the past, he wouldn't have dared to come here.
The threat of encountering Cloud Ninja had been too great.
But now…
His hand tightened slightly around the hilt of Yerun.
Now, he had confidence.
This journey was not only about travel—it was also about seeing the world more clearly.
However, what he saw left a bitter taste in his mouth.
The lives of the peasants here were even harsher than those in the Land of Fire.
The so-called "Land of Hot Springs," famous for its prosperity and tourism, brought no benefit to its common people.
All the profits were monopolized by the Daimyo and the nobility.
The peasants received nothing.
Over the past half-year, Aoki Yoru had traveled extensively.
He had seen fertile lands and barren ones.
He had witnessed prosperity—and extreme poverty.
Everywhere, the pattern was the same.
The nobles lived in extravagant luxury, indulging in endless pleasures.
Meanwhile, the commoners struggled desperately just to survive.
In fertile regions like the Land of Fire and the Land of Hot Springs, people could at least scrape by.
But in poorer lands…
Like the Land of Grass or the Land of Rivers…
Even a single meal a day was a luxury.
People lived like walking corpses, barely clinging to life.
Aoki Yoru let out a slow breath.
By comparison, the harsh deserts of the Land of Wind suddenly seemed more understandable.
At least now he could understand why the Fourth Kazekage resorted to mining gold to sustain his village.
A faint look of envy crossed his face.
"I really envy him…" Aoki Yoru muttered softly. "If he needs money, he just digs for it. If I had that ability, would I still need to scheme against people like Danzo or Gato?"
He shook his head lightly.
This world…
Was far crueler than the feudal societies he remembered from his previous life.
And yet, the so-called heroes of the Ninja World—
People like Naruto and the First Hokage—
Seemed blind to its deeper problems.
They maintained peace, yes.
But only on the surface.
The root issues remained untouched.
Perhaps they didn't see it.
Or perhaps…
They chose not to.
Aoki Yoru's gaze grew colder.
"To truly change this world," he murmured, "it would take more than just ideals."
It would take upheaval.
Revolution.
The overthrow of the ruling class.
The redistribution of land and resources.
Only then could the common people hope to live without constant suffering.
Ironically…
Even the great Shinobi Wars played a role in maintaining balance.
Each war reduced the population, freeing up land and resources.
Without them, inequality might grow until rebellion became inevitable.
Aoki Yoru exhaled slowly.
"…Forget it."
He shook his head, forcing those thoughts aside.
"What does any of that have to do with me?"
For now…
Survival was enough.
Town of Hot Water
By the time he arrived at the town, the sun was already beginning to set.
Unlike the countryside, this place was lively and prosperous.
Steam rose into the air from countless bathhouses, carrying a faint mineral scent.
Lanterns flickered to life as evening approached, casting warm light across the streets.
Aoki Yoru's lips curled slightly.
At last.
A place worth enjoying.
"Ah…"
"This really is nice."
Aoki Yoru leaned back in the hot spring, letting the warm water envelop his body.
The heat seeped into his muscles, easing away the fatigue of travel.
Even the tension in his mind gradually melted away.
For a moment…
He allowed himself to simply relax.
Then—
Voices drifted faintly from the other side of the wooden partition.
"Lady Tsunade… isn't this a bit inappropriate? We don't have any money, yet we just walked in and started soaking…"
Aoki Yoru's ears twitched slightly.
"…Tsunade?"
A lazy, unconcerned voice responded.
"Shizune, what are you worried about? We'll soak first and talk later. They even have a luxury buffet here—we'll just leave after eating. As long as we don't get caught, it's not freeloading."
Aoki Yoru nearly choked on the water.
What kind of logic is that?!
"Later, we'll go borrow some money from a loan shark," Tsunade continued casually. "I've got a good feeling today. My right eyelid is twitching—I'm about to get lucky."
"No, Lady Tsunade!" Shizune wailed. "We just got chased out of Tanzaku Town by creditors! And it's 'left eye for wealth, right eye for disaster'—something bad is definitely going to happen!"
"Too noisy," Tsunade replied dismissively. "My right eye means wealth. I'll definitely win it all back today."
The sound of splashing water followed.
Then footsteps.
Then Shizune's increasingly desperate protests as the two of them moved farther away.
Eventually…
Silence returned.
On the other side of the wall, Aoki Yoru slowly lowered his towel.
His expression was… complicated.
"So this is how she lives…"
The legendary Tsunade.
One of the Sannin.
Reduced to sneaking into bathhouses, eating without paying, and borrowing from loan sharks to gamble.
He suddenly felt a trace of sympathy—for Shizune.
Following Tsunade meant constant debt, constant danger, and probably constant hunger.
"That girl really has it rough…"
Aoki Yoru muttered.
Then he shrugged.
None of this had anything to do with him.
If anything, it was better to avoid Tsunade altogether.
That woman…
Was trouble.
The kind that drained both money and peace of mind.
He grabbed a dry towel and placed it over his face.
Then slowly sank deeper into the water.
For now…
He would just enjoy the rare moment of peace.
And nothing else.
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