The blazing sun beat down over endless yellow sand.
The figures of Araki and the other two had been completely swallowed by the wind and sand, not even a trace of their shadows visible, yet the Sunagakure ninja outside Rōran still stood there like statues.
It was not because they had been hit by some immobilizing technique. It was simply that Rasa, as their leader, had not moved, so the others could not very well act on their own.
The atmosphere was rather oppressive.
As for Rasa himself, once the lingering fear passed, he began to reflect on himself from the bottom of his heart.
Recently, through all kinds of maneuvering and political dealing, he had successfully kicked out his greatest rival and inherited the position of Kazekage. Had he really, as that Araki said, let it go to his head?
That was right. Kazekage was indeed a title of great status, authority, and prestige, but when it came to a ninja's most basic reliance—strength—it did not add even the slightest bit.
On the contrary, because he had spent more of his time at his desk these days, it had been a very long time since he had ventured deep into the desert to pan for gold—no, to practice ninjutsu.
From that perspective, his strength might even have regressed somewhat.
After all, Rasa was not someone who walked the path of faith. Even if the position of Kazekage could gather the hopes and faith of the entire village, he had no way to use them at all.
"Though I don't know how to use it, someone definitely does. Otherwise, why would they be so determined to seize the ruling power of the Five Great Nations?"
Rasa's heart stirred, and he thought of someone.
The humiliation of being frightened motionless today