The sealed five senses were like a black curtain drawn across the sky. Deprived of sight, Mao curiously turned her perception—her substitute for vision—toward the Natural Energy omnipresent in the air.
Even with her sensitivity reduced to its lowest point, Mao still felt from the bottom of her heart that the scattered traces flowing through the night, coming from the direction of the God Tree, resembled an endless natural river.
A foolish Sage?
Yes.
She really was a fool.
Just like the Hagoromo Clan—a foolish family that fell one step behind, then fell behind at every step.
If
the Hagoromo Clan had accepted Hashirama and Madara's invitation to join Konoha when it had first been founded, things should have been very different.
Then they would not have triggered their belated acquaintance at the Bonfire Party.
A trace of melancholy rose in Mao's heart, and she felt the fighting spirit within her ease slightly. Then she suddenly shifted her perception toward the sleeping face.
It was all right.
As long as she kept striving forward.
Even those who arrived late could catch up with great strides.
Having reaffirmed her resolve, the girl's Sage Jutsu chakra surged through her limbs like ocean waves. Her arms, no different from an ordinary person's, became the most exquisitely lethal weapons at that moment.
"Wind!"
With each large step leaving an afterimage, the girl was like an enraged tiger riding the wind. Her lightly fluttering short hair outlined both softness and fighting spirit as she threw a blazing punch, intent on shattering every mental obstacle.
The Sharingan spun rapidly, barely managing to catch the afterimage mingled with moonlight.
Mao was serious now.
Feeling the man-made gale rushing toward her, Naori raised her focus to its highest level of alertness. Every nerve in her body trembled in