Mount Myōboku now had two branches: the martial and the scholarly.
The martial toads were like the future Gamabunta, Hiro-san, and Gamaken, relying on Taijutsu and swordsmanship to attack.
There were also practitioners of techniques, but they all relied on Toad Song, Toad Oil, or toad fire to attack.
"If I create Hand Seals, I can take Mount Myōboku's strength to a whole new level."
Manji made up his mind and recalled the Hand Seals from his previous life.
He was quite familiar with them.
Zi, Chou, Yin, Mao, Chen, Si, Wu, Wei, Shen, You, Xu, Hai. They were also called the Nine Character Seal.
Nearly a hundred years passed.
Manji created the Hand Seals and promoted their use across Mount Myōboku, but he didn't spread them among humanity. Instead, he kept their use confined to Mount Myōboku.
"Great Sage, we've finished recording the events of the past century. You've compiled the history of the world—this is truly an immeasurable merit."
The toad in charge of recording the world's history praised him, then respectfully presented the scroll.
Manji took the scroll and carefully looked it over before nodding. "Well done. Are you new here?"
"Great Sage, I inherited this duty from my grandfather. He was the first toad to help you record history."
The toad nodded again and again as he spoke.
Manji was slightly surprised. He remembered the little toad who had respectfully recorded history for him all those years ago.
"So much time has passed. What about your grandfather now?"
Manji was surprised. He hadn't realized so many years had gone by.
"Great Sage, my grandfather has passed away."
The toad's face turned sorrowful.
"I see..."
A trace of emotion flickered in Manji's eyes. Holding the scroll, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
"Thanks for your hard work. You may go."
Manji waved his hand slightly.
He couldn't help but reflect: time was as sharp as a blade.
He looked at the scroll in his hands. It recorded just a brief hundred years of Ninja World history.
To him, it truly was just a brief hundred years.
But to most mortals, it was the entire lifetime of countless people.
After sitting alone in the Sage Hall for a while,
Manji vanished in a flicker.
"It's time I went to see how Hagoromo is doing..."
A century had passed since he last set foot on this land.
He stood at the very spot where he had once asked a child for directions.
Nothing had changed, except that generation after generation of people had come and gone.
Manji paused. He was just about to use Sage Art: Immortal Mist Body Flicker to leave when an aged voice, trembling with excitement, came from behind him.
"Immortal... Is it really you?"
Manji slowly turned around and looked toward the voice.
An old man with white hair and beard stood there, his back bent. He leaned on a smooth, worn wooden staff, each unsteady step a struggle. His cloudy eyes fixed on Manji, filled with disbelieving joy and excitement.
Manji gave a helpless sigh inwardly.
His face had endured the passage of time without changing. Among humanity, it had long been etched into their very bones. Wherever he went, he couldn't hide his identity. Truly, who in the world didn't know him?
It was all because Hagoromo had drawn him so accurately back then.
If only he'd drawn him to look like Taishang Laojun from his previous life, everyone wouldn't recognize him.
"Immortal! It really is you!"
At last, the old man stumbled over to him. His staff struck the ground with a heavy thud, supporting his tottering body. His voice quavered uncontrollably with excitement.
"Do you remember me? I was that little boy from back then! The one playing in the mud at the village entrance when you asked me for directions!"
At his words, Manji's pupils suddenly contracted.
They had met before?
Manji clearly remembered that when he had visited this land a hundred years ago, the child before him had been covered in mud spots, crouching on the dirt slope at the village entrance and playing in the mud.
Manji: "Boy, where's the Manji Temple around here?"
Child: "Whoa, you look just like the Sage of Six Paths!"
Who could have imagined that the lively-eyed child from back then would one day become a decrepit old man, nearing the end of his life?
Manji's lips curved in a smile. He sighed softly, "That little boy who used to crouch at the village entrance playing in the mud has grown into this."
The old man hurriedly bowed, trembling.
"Ever since my grandfather brought me to see you that day, I've hoped day and night that I might meet you again."
"For the past hundred years, I've waited at the village entrance every day before dawn, through wind and rain, hoping you'd set foot on this land again.
"I never thought... I never thought I'd live to be a hundred and eight and finally see my wish come true."
The old man's voice choked up. Cloudy tears trickled down his wrinkled cheeks.
Manji felt even more moved.
To him, a hundred years was no more than a fleeting moment in his cultivation along the Immortal Path. But to a mortal, it was a whole lifetime, from a little child to a centenarian.
"You're already a hundred and eight? That's a rare age indeed."
Manji smiled faintly.
"It's all thanks to your blessings, Immortal!"
The old man hurriedly bowed, his voice full of reverence. "As a child, I was fortunate enough to see your immortal face and receive a trace of your divine grace. That's how this old man lived in peace until today.
"A hundred years have passed, yet you're still as radiant as ever!"
"Just as you were when we first met, while I'm an old man with one foot in the grave."
Manji smiled and nodded. Looking at the old man who had waited a hundred years for him, he felt a slight stirring in his heart.
So he asked, "For us to meet again after a hundred years is a rare stroke of fate. Tell me, is there anything you desire?"
With Manji's abilities, changing someone's fate in Naruto would be effortless.
As soon as he finished speaking,
the old man dropped to his knees with a thud.
He pressed his aged forehead firmly against the cold ground and replied with unwavering respect, "The Immortal already bestowed a century of life upon me. That is a blessing beyond measure, and this old man has no further wishes. To see the Immortal once more while I'm still alive is already the greatest fortune of my life. It's enough, truly enough!"
Manji couldn't help but laugh. Having lived a hundred and eight years, the old man had long seen through the world's greed, anger, and delusions. He had shed all worldly desires and truly come to understand life.
"Grandpa! Grandpa! Oh no! The monster from the mountain behind the village ate our big yellow ox!"
Just then, hurried footsteps came from the end of the village road. A child with his hair tied up came running over, crying. Tears streaked his little face, and his voice quavered.
The old man hurriedly got up from the ground. Forgetting all about the ox, he grabbed the child.
"Child, forget the ox. Come here and pay your respects to the Immortal!"
The old man pulled his grandson over.
The child was dragged in front of Manji. He blinked his big, innocent eyes and stared at him for a moment.
Then the child tilted his head and blurted out, "Huh? Aren't you the big brother Sage of Six Paths from the picture in the shrine? How did you climb out of the painting?"
"Impertinent!"
The old man was both anxious and angry. He raised a hand and gave the child a light smack on the backside, scolding him sharply. "You mustn't show disrespect to the Sage of Six Paths. Apologize at once!"
"It's fine. Children are innocent. He's just saying whatever comes to mind."
Manji waved a hand with a faint smile.
"Is this your grandson? He looks just like you did back then—innocent and forthright, like when your father came back from the fields and scolded you with a hoe over his shoulder."
Manji spoke warmly.
At his words, memories flooded the old man's eyes.
He had once spoken just as carelessly, and his father had scolded him after returning from the fields. Now it was an old memory from a hundred years ago, as if from another life.
"All right, tell me what happened."
"How did the ox get eaten by a monster? What kind of monster was it?"
Manji looked away from the old man and turned to the child, who was still wiping his tears. He asked in an even tone.
The old man asked for nothing in return, so Manji would deal with the trouble plaguing the village. It would be a fitting way to bring their century-old connection to a close.
The child sniffled, wiped away his tears, and timidly replied, "It was a huge fox monster, with lots of tails. It grabbed the big yellow ox in its mouth and carried it off!"
"The child doesn't know any better and is speaking incoherently. Allow me to explain it to you, Immortal."
The old man quickly stepped forward, bowed deeply to Manji, and began to speak.
"This trouble started seven years ago. A great monster suddenly appeared on the mountain behind the village. It was a beast shaped like a fox, with nine bushy tails. It looked terrifying.
"It doesn't eat people, but it often comes down the mountain and carries off the villagers' cattle and sheep. The villagers are afraid of its power. Now they don't even dare go up the mountain to graze their animals or gather firewood, and life has become increasingly difficult."
When the old man finished,
Manji furrowed his brows. Nine-Tails?
At the words "a fox with nine tails," Manji's brows rose slightly.
The first one he thought of was the Nine-Tails he had once set free. But this place was thousands of miles away from where he had broken the seal and released it. How could it be the same creature?
Suspicious, Manji slowly closed his eyes. His sage power spread outward like a tide, instantly covering the entire mountain behind the village and the land for a hundred miles around.
The next moment, a familiar Chakra entered his senses clearly from deep within the mountain.
Manji opened his eyes. A knowing glint flashed in them as he murmured to himself, "So it really is you, Nine-Tails."
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