Ninja World?

What made his heart sink even more was that the vegetation characteristics of this primeval forest, as well as the faint, humid monsoon in the air, pointed to a geographical region that was not unfamiliar to him.

If his judgment is correct, this place should be in the north-central part of the Land of Fire, not too far from Hidden Leaf Village.

Sure enough, Yakumi remained silent for a moment before speaking, his tone unusually tinged with uncertainty.

He asked if this was the Ninja World. Although Yaoyu didn't speak, his knuckles were already white from gripping the hilt of his sword.

The Uchiha clan members of this generation have extremely complex feelings towards the Ninja World.

Here lie the ruins of a clan's land, passed down for thousands of years; the remains of relatives who were wiped out and taken away; deep-seated hatred; and the humiliation of being forced to flee.

Three years have passed, and they never imagined they would set foot on this land again.

Natsu straightened up, patted the dirt off his palms, and answered the question about the smell of Yakumi, as well as the unresolved question in everyone's mind: it was the Ninja World, and not far from Konoha.

He spoke these words in a flat tone, showing neither the excitement of returning to his homeland nor the anger of facing his enemies.

He was simply stating a fact—they had returned, but certainly not in the same disheveled state they had been in three years ago when they fled in such a panic.

The Yaoyu and Yakumi exchanged a silent glance, then looked at Natsu simultaneously, waiting for him to make a decision.

This land owes the Uchiha Clan a blood debt; how can it be repaid?

The three of them have returned; standing here are the true avengers of the Uchiha Clan.

Natsu stood at the edge of the dense forest, closed her eyes, and silently unleashed her Observation Haki.

He could sense every presence within dozens of miles, the vast majority of which were wild beasts and birds.

Then he detected several unusual fluctuations—very faint, but definitely human Chakra, slowly moving along the direction of a stream.

"Let's go, let's gather some intelligence first." He opened his eyes and walked towards the direction of that aura.

The Yaoyu and Yakumi exchanged a glance, and they followed.

The two brothers remained as taciturn as ever, but their pace had automatically adjusted to a safe distance.

This forest was both familiar and strange to them. The Chakra fluctuations in the air were exactly the same as those in the Ninja World they remembered, but the distribution of vegetation, the direction of the streams, and the faint outline of the mountains in the distance were not quite the same as those in the Land of Fire.

They were walking on a fork in the road, far from Konoha, and they needed to figure out where they were first.

The three figures moved silently through the dense forest, rapidly approaching the direction from which the aura emanated.

The group moved silently to the edge of an open area and hid behind several ancient trees that were as thick as a person's embrace.

Ahead was a dirt road, repeatedly trodden by wheels, with fresh ruts still visible on its surface.

A sizable group of about twenty people was slowly making its way along the dirt road, forming a formation that flanked them from the front and back.

At the heart of the procession was an elaborately decorated carriage with its curtains drawn low, obscuring the identities of those inside. However, judging from the rank of the guards flanking the carriage, the people inside were undoubtedly wealthy and powerful.

The guards were divided into two groups. The outermost group consisted of seven or eight samurai with Tachi at their waists, their armor engraved with the crest of a certain family. Their steps were steady, and they were clearly elite samurai who had received formal training.

The inner circle consisted of several ninjas dressed in standard vests, their Forehead Protector gleaming metallically in the sunlight.

Natsu narrowed her eyes slightly, and her Mangekyo Sharingan silently spun, allowing her to clearly see the Forehead Protector patterns of the ninjas.

He recognized the shape and pattern of the Forehead Protector —it belonged to a ninja from Kusagakure.

The Land of Grass is located between the Land of Fire and the Land of Earth, and has always struggled to survive in the gap between the two great powers. Grass Ninja appear here mostly because they are hired to carry out escort missions.

He withdrew his gaze, lowered his voice, and said to the Yaoyu and Yakumi behind him, "It's Grass Ninja, about five or six of them. The rest are ordinary samurai. The people in the carriage should be the employer."

Yaoyu nodded, his left hand already resting on the hilt of the knife, silently asking whether he should proceed.

Natsu no attempt to conceal herself.

He pushed aside the last clump of bushes, stepped onto the dirt road repeatedly trodden by the wheels, and walked straight to the front of the convoy.

The Yaoyu and the Yakumi followed closely behind, their footsteps so light they were almost silent, Sharingan gleamed with a cold, eerie red light in the sunlight.

"Who goes there!" The leader of the Grass Ninja reacted the fastest, drawing his Kunai almost the instant Natsu stepped onto the road. The other Grass Ninja quickly tightened their formation, surrounding the carriage in the center.

Their movements were practiced, clearly not the first time they had dealt with an unexpected situation. Several samurai drew their swords, the blades gleaming coldly in the sunlight, and pointed them at the three uninvited guests.

Natsu did not draw his sword, did not Hand Seals, and did not even stop walking.

He simply swept his Sharingan calmly over the Grass Ninja blocking his way, his gaze devoid of hostility yet carrying a chilling indifference.

"I'm asking for directions," he said.

His tone was so calm, as if he were just passing by a tea stall, not being Tachi by four or five Kunai or eight katana.

The leader of the Grass Ninja team clearly didn't believe this explanation.

He stared warily into Natsu's eyes; those scarlet pupils made him instinctively uneasy. But the other person looked to be only a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy, and although the two people behind him also carried swords, they did not have any insignia of ninja villages or forces.

He gripped the Kunai tightly, about to open his mouth to question, when a sharp and impatient voice came from inside the carriage.

"What's going on! Why did you stop!" The carriage curtain was roughly pulled open, and a middle-aged man dressed in rich clothes but with a face full of fat peeked out.

His gaze swept over the figures blocking his path. He paused for a moment, then his face broke into undisguised disgust and impatience. He cursed, "A few lowly commoners dare to block my way? What are you bunch of Grass Ninja good for?"

Do you think I'd spend so much money hiring you just to waste my time with a bunch of immature kids?

Get them out of here right now! You've delayed my schedule, can you afford to compensate me?!

The Grass Ninja captain's face stiffened at the insult, but he dared not retort. He could only steel himself, point his Kunai Natsu, and shout sternly, "Whoever you are, leave immediately! Otherwise—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

It wasn't because he didn't want to talk, but because he suddenly realized his hands wouldn't obey him.

The hand holding the Kunai froze in mid-air, its five fingers twitching spasmodically, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't thrust it forward even an inch.

He looked down in horror and saw a faint shadow on the back of his hand that was holding the knife—the shadow of that boy.