Believer

Souya and Sasori walked along the streets of Sunagakure. As for Pakura... after delivering the fruit basket, she had hurriedly left.

To Souya, this was just a minor episode. After all, in this precarious Ninja World, he wouldn't consider anything else until he had enough strength.

The wind above the village let out a low "woo-woo" sound, but to the villagers, this was already a familiar noise, so it didn't dampen their enthusiasm at all.

"Come take a look! Smoked horse sausage made with secret sauce and spruce leaves!"

"You'll savor the aftertaste, finish one and crave the next!" A middle-aged man with a bushy beard shouted vigorously at the street corner.

Hearing the voice, Sasori walked straight over to the man, bent down, grabbed a horse sausage, and squeezed its texture.

Souya could only follow helplessly behind, a look of disgust on his face as he eyed the rows of smoked horse sausages displayed on the stall.

Unlike ordinary meat sausages, smoked horse sausages were strikingly large—roughly the thickness and length of an adult's arm.

This novel food had only appeared in Sunagakure two or three years ago, said to be a secret recipe from a tribe deep in the Land of Wind.

Sasori had inexplicably been drawn to this dry, blackened food back then.

Seeing it, Souya had zero desire to take a bite. Under Sasori's persuasion, he'd tried a piece once and immediately spat it out, feeling nauseous for days afterward.

According to the "Dark Gourmet" Sasori, he loved the robust, hearty texture.

Souya just wanted to say that chewing that smoked horse sausage felt like a convulsing wild horse was lying on his tongue.

That kind of thrill wasn't something ordinary people could handle...

Souya figured that maybe Sasori, having suffered a huge blow as a child, had closed himself off inside, and this extreme, stimulating food could open his heart and let him taste life again...

According to the stall owner, the smoked horse sausage was packed with nutrients—if kids grew up eating it, they'd be incredibly strong!

Watching Sasori walk away from the stall carrying several large strings of horse sausage, a faint smile appeared on Souya's face.

"Souya, I'm going to bring some horse sausage to Grandma. Want to come along?" Sasori spoke up.

"Uh... Chiyo is getting on in years; her digestion might not be great. Horse sausage might not suit her..." Souya hinted with some concern.

"Is that so?" Sasori tilted his head slightly.

"Of course, but you could take a little for her to try if you want." Chiyo had often asked him to report on Sasori's movements, and he'd learned quite a few jutsu from her.

Souya felt grateful to Chiyo.

Now that Sasori and she had reconciled, he, as the "Life Mentor," had done his job well.

After all, the grandmother and grandson were both striving for the same difficult goal now, so it was easy for their grudges to dissolve.

"You go on back. I'm heading to the temple too!" Souya naturally wouldn't tag along with Sasori.

In the afternoon, Souya returned to the familiar temple.

From afar, he saw a thick ginkgo tree rising in the backyard, its broad branches and leaves spreading outward.

At that moment, the ginkgo leaves seemed draped in a veil of sunset glow. Under the sunlight, they weren't just green but shimmered with a dazzling, multicolored radiance.

With the wind's caress, that light seemed embedded in the leaves, flickering as they swayed—like sunlight on water, rippling and sparkling. In the desert, having such a lush, vibrant tree was truly rare.

This likely also strengthened the faith of the surrounding commoners.

Today, the worshippers were an endless stream, with blue smoke rising and dispersing in the wind halfway up.

"Uncle Hua Yan!" Souya called out.

The middle-aged monk, who was attending to worshippers, brightened at the sound, quickly excused himself, and walked over to Souya.

"I heard you were hospitalized? Nothing serious?" Uncle Hua Yan grabbed Souya's shoulder and patted it.

"If something were wrong, would I be standing here? Don't worry, I know my limits." Souya laughed it off.

"The whole village is buzzing—you took on three of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen alone and saved a lot of the village's ninja..." Uncle Hua Yan was quite well-informed.

"Ah! I got careless. Almost lost my life there..." Souya looked helpless, still a bit shaken.

"Everything needs to be done within your means. Assess the situation, don't act impulsively. Your own life is the most important!" Uncle Hua Yan lectured.

After chatting with Uncle Hua Yan for a good while, Souya headed to the backyard.

He looked up at the emerald ginkgo leaves above, sunlight filtering through the gaps to cast fan-shaped shadows on the ground.

"Back?" An aged voice sounded.

"Yeah, Master... I'm back..." Souya looked toward the house ahead, where an old monk stood at the door, small in stature but sharp-eyed.

A gentle breeze blew, rustling the leaves, and the shadows on the ground swayed along.

Back inside the house, Souya talked endlessly about his recent experiences.

The kettle sat on the charcoal stove, red flames licking its bottom, occasionally letting out a "gurgle."

The Old Monk listened quietly with a smile, only pausing his expression when Souya mentioned danger.

"And that's it!" After finishing his story in one breath, Souya felt thirsty. Looking down, he found a cup of steaming tea already on the table, warming his heart.

The golden tea held some green leaves and rice grains. Souya raised the cup and drank. Besides the faint fragrance of green tea, it carried a special roasted rice aroma. The two scents blended organically, giving a fresh, mellow taste with a sweet aftertaste.

"Souya! There's actually something I've wanted to ask you for a long time..." As Souya downed the tea in one gulp, the Old Monk silently lifted the boiling kettle and refilled the cup in front of him.

"You grew up in the temple, yet you never seemed to believe in these gods and Buddhas?" the Old Monk spoke.

"Yes, that's right!" Souya replied frankly.

"Why?" the Old Monk pressed on.

"Because gods and Buddhas, as objects of faith, can only restrain the behavior of the devout. When encountering non-believers or heretics, they instead spark conflict and strife."

"And the monks serve the gods and Buddhas day in and day out, yet never have I seen them descend to save the world."

"Temples are merely spiritual havens yearning for peace; they cannot bring true peace, nor can they escape the turbulence of reality." Souya answered without hesitation.

Hearing this reply, the Old Monk fell silent. Clearly, as a monk who had devoted his entire life to goodness, he had also witnessed so many years of war and turmoil.

He knew deep down that Souya's words struck at the very heart of religion's weakness.