The long procession of carriages, stretching like a dragon, carried the clan members' reluctance to part and their lingering farewell gazes as it continuously left the Uchiha Clan Grounds for Konoha. Its figures vanished into the streets, heading toward the new residences that had long since been agreed upon.
The Uchiha Clan Grounds no longer rang with the bustling voices of the past. Rikusei gazed at the sparsely populated shops that were gradually falling into decline and slowly sighed inwardly.
The clan members scattered throughout the Land of Fire to take part in local administration, bound by blood and family ties, had become one of the most trustworthy forces after Madara took office as Hokage.
Though the number of those leaving appeared considerable, as if it had hollowed out the Uchiha Clan, it was utterly insignificant when it came to governing the Land of Fire—like droplets flowing into a vast sea.
As Rikusei walked out of the clan grounds, he sensed the atmosphere spreading from the end of the street ahead. It was completely different from the melancholy of parting within the clan grounds.
The distinctive clothing flowed past him like a tide, brushing shoulders with him. From the corner of his eye, he clearly caught the different expressions on the different faces.
Travelers from every nation and ninjas from every region had brought with them turbulent currents, turning Konoha into a place where the winds of change gathered once more.
After the Tailed Beast auction, the assassination that shocked the Shinobi World had turned the Daimyos of every nation into skittish birds.
Some had dispatched ministers from their countries to observe the inauguration of the Second.
As for the Sage?
They held little interest in him. The God Tree standing within the Land of Fire was far more intriguing