Nao held the scroll tightly against her chest, her small fingers gripping it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
Her expression was solemn—far too serious for a child her age.
Aoki Yoru crouched slightly in front of her, his gaze steady and voice calm but firm.
"Remember this carefully," he said. "The moment my clone disappears, open the scroll immediately."
He paused briefly, ensuring she understood.
"Inside, there's a chakra clone I prepared. It will guide you on what to do next."
This was no ordinary preparation.
It was one of the safeguards he had created after studying sealing techniques in depth—something inspired by how Minato Namikaze had once left behind a fragment of his chakra within Naruto, capable of manifesting at critical moments.
Aoki Yoru had refined the concept with his own understanding.
A contingency.
A final insurance.
Because this time—
He was stepping into the unknown.
Whether he would truly encounter Jashin…
What kind of being Jashin was…
And how powerful such an existence might be…
All of it remained uncertain.
That uncertainty was precisely why Aoki Yoru had prepared not one, but two trump cards.
For someone like him, survival always came first.
Nao nodded firmly, clutching the scroll even tighter.
"Don't worry, Brother Yoru," she said, her voice soft but determined. "I understand."
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of trust and worry.
"You have to come back safely."
For a brief moment, Aoki Yoru was silent.
Then he gave a faint nod.
At that moment, his shadow clone approached from the side.
"Relax," the clone said casually, folding his arms. "I'll keep a close eye on her."
Aoki Yoru glanced at his clone, then nodded.
"Make sure nothing happens to her."
"Of course," the clone replied with a faint grin. "After all, I'm you."
Aoki Yoru turned his attention upward.
Yatagarasu, the massive black crow, stood nearby, its sharp eyes gleaming with intelligence.
"Watch over her," Aoki Yoru instructed. "And follow my commands at all times."
The crow let out a low caw, as if acknowledging his order.
With everything arranged, Aoki Yoru didn't hesitate any longer.
He stepped off the crow's back—
And in the next instant, his figure blurred and vanished into the distance.
His destination:
Mount Liangjie.
This time, however—
His purpose was not heroism.
Aoki Yoru was not someone driven by compassion or a sense of justice.
He was cautious.
Extremely cautious.
The kind of person who would avoid danger whenever possible.
So why was he going?
The answer was simple.
He wanted to see Jashin.
His strength had reached a bottleneck.
No matter how much he trained, the improvement was minimal.
Yes, he had made progress.
His spiritual energy had grown significantly, allowing him to sense and even guide natural energy to a certain extent.
But—
There were limits.
Human limits.
His body could not absorb natural energy efficiently on its own.
Even with sealing techniques, the amount he could store was finite.
At best, it was enough for a single explosive attack.
After that—
He would be drained.
As for his research on White Zetsu…
It had come to a halt.
His laboratory had been destroyed, along with much of his accumulated data.
Rebuilding it would take time—time he didn't have.
Aoki Yoru had already calculated his future potential.
Even under the most ideal circumstances—
Even if he fully developed his spiritual energy…
Maximized his natural energy absorption…
And achieved breakthroughs in his research—
By the time the Fourth Great Ninja War arrived…
He would, at best, reach the level of Senju Hashirama.
And beyond that?
Impossible.
The gap between a "Super Kage-level" shinobi and the Six Paths level…
Was not just large.
It was absolute.
They existed on entirely different planes.
For ordinary people—
Even geniuses—
Reaching the peak of the ninja world required countless hardships.
But the Six Paths level?
That was something else entirely.
A realm reserved for beings tied to the Ōtsutsuki bloodline.
Aoki Yoru understood this clearly.
Throughout history, those who had reached that level all shared one thing in common—
They possessed the blood of the Ōtsutsuki Clan.
And not just a trace.
But a high concentration.
The closest examples were the direct sons of the Sage of Six Paths.
There was only one exception.
Might Guy.
By opening the Eight Gates—
He had briefly touched that realm.
But it came at a cost.
A cost so great that it consumed his life.
A final blaze of glory.
A desperate gamble.
Aoki Yoru clenched his fist slightly.
"I'm not going to walk that path…"
He had no intention of sacrificing himself.
Not for power.
Not for anyone.
And yet—
The reality remained.
No matter how he analyzed it…
No matter how deeply he thought—
He could not find a path forward.
Not even a hint.
That was when his attention turned elsewhere.
To something… unknown.
Something beyond conventional chakra.
Jashin.
According to what he understood, the essence of the Six Paths level was tied to something deeper—
The Divine Tree.
The origin of chakra itself.
Chakra was not a natural human ability.
It was a product of the Divine Tree—
A seed planted by the Ōtsutsuki Clan.
It absorbed the life force of the world, grew, and eventually bore the Chakra Fruit.
Everything about it was governed by the laws of the ninja world.
But beings like Jashin—
And even the Shinigami—
Were different.
They were ancient.
Existences that had persisted since the mythical era.
Entities tied not to chakra alone—
But to rules.
To concepts.
To something beyond human understanding.
"If I can understand it…"
Aoki Yoru's eyes sharpened.
"…even a fragment of it…"
Perhaps—
He could find a new path.
A path beyond chakra.
A path beyond limits.
But he was not reckless.
He knew very well—
That such beings were dangerous.
Far beyond anything he had faced before.
That was why—
He had prepared.
Two trump cards.
If his clone disappeared…
That meant one thing.
He was in serious danger.
So much so that he couldn't even maintain a basic shadow clone.
At that point—
Everything would depend on the final contingency he left with Nao.
Soon—
Mount Liangjie came into view.
Aoki Yoru slowed his pace as he reached the base of the mountain.
Then, without hesitation, he released his spiritual perception at full power.
It spread outward like an invisible tide—
Sweeping across the entire mountain.
Moments later—
His eyes locked onto something.
"…Found them."
Inside a massive karst cave—
He sensed them.
Members of the Jashin Cult.
But instead of relief—
His expression darkened.
There were about a hundred people inside.
Judging by their clothing and presence, they were followers of the cult—
Along with subordinates of the local Daimyo.
In front of them—
Was a massive pool.
Filled with blood.
Even from the foot of the mountain—
Aoki Yoru could smell it.
The thick, metallic stench.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
And behind the cave—
At the bottom of a deep rift—
Lay something far worse.
Bodies.
Countless bodies.
Layer upon layer.
Stacked upon each other.
The ones at the bottom had already decayed into bones.
The ones above—
Were still fresh.
Some even radiating faint warmth.
Men.
Women.
Children.
Elderly.
All of them—
Pale.
Drained.
Every drop of blood—
Gone.
Aoki Yoru's stomach churned.
Even for someone who had witnessed war…
Seen countless deaths…
This—
Was different.
A cold killing intent rose in his eyes.
"…They deserve to die."
But he didn't act.
Not yet.
Earlier—
He had overheard something.
Tonight.
At eight o'clock.
Under the Blood Moon.
A ritual would take place.
A blood sacrifice.
To summon—
Jashin.
And the Daimyo himself would be present.
Aoki Yoru exhaled slowly.
Then, he leaped onto a tall tree nearby.
Sitting on a sturdy branch, he leaned back against the trunk.
And waited.
Time passed.
Silently.
The sky darkened.
Night descended.
And then—
The moon rose.
A crimson moon.
Hanging high in the heavens.
Its eerie light spilling across the land like blood.
At that moment—
A sound broke the silence.
From the distance—
A carriage approached.
Luxurious.
Heavily guarded.
Under Aoki Yoru's watchful gaze—
It entered the cave.
Inside—
An old man stepped out.
Dressed in fine robes.
His bearing—
Arrogant.
The Jashin priest immediately approached him.
A man with a thin goatee and a fanatical gleam in his eyes.
"Welcome, Lord Daimyo," the priest said with a deep bow.
"Tonight… you shall witness the descent of the great Lord Jashin."
"Humph!"
The Daimyo snorted, his expression filled with irritation.
"Mingdu," he said coldly, "this is the fifth time you've told me this."
His eyes narrowed.
"The northern region has already been emptied because of you."
"Even the Daimyos of the Land of Fire and the Land of Lightning have sent inquiries."
His voice dropped.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
"This is your last chance."
"If you fail again…"
"There will be no need for your Jashin Cult to exist."
The priest laughed.
Loud.
Unrestrained.
"Rest assured, my lord."
"This time… we will succeed."
His eyes gleamed with madness.
"We have already succeeded once."
"Have you forgotten that man?"
"Hidan."
"No matter how he was attacked…"
"He could not die."
A hint of regret flashed across his face.
"…It's just unfortunate that he escaped."
The Daimyo's expression shifted slightly.
Then, he sneered.
"You'd better be right."
"If I hadn't seen that so-called immortal with my own eyes…"
"Do you think I would support a group of vermin like you?"
With that—
He turned.
And stepped back into the carriage.
The moment he left—
The priest's expression changed.
The flattery vanished.
Replaced by something dark.
Something cold.
Killing intent.
His hand tightened around the bone staff at his waist.
His knuckles turned white.
"…Enjoy your arrogance while you can," he muttered softly.
A sinister smile spread across his face.
"…You won't be laughing for long."
High above—
Hidden in the shadows—
Aoki Yoru watched everything.
Silently.
And waited.
The ritual—
Was about to begin.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)