Mount Katsuragi

An hour later, at Sandview City's northern gate.

Sōji and Hotaru walked out of the city gates one after the other. Behind them, the town was gradually darkening; before them stretched a vast, barren desert.

Ugly Treasure was coiled around Sōji's waist, its head resting on his shoulder as it vigilantly watched their surroundings.

"Mr. Sōji."

Following behind him, Hotaru asked softly, "How long will it take us to reach the Land of Grass?"

"Ten days, maybe? If we move quickly."

"Ten days..." Hotaru thought for a moment. "Then... will we run into people from Sunagakure on the way?"

"Possibly."

"Then... what do we do?"

Sōji lowered his head to look at her. "Don't worry. As long as the Kazekage isn't leading them personally, it won't matter who comes."

Looking at his profile, Hotaru suddenly felt that this blindfolded young man was more reliable than anything else.

She hurried forward and tightly grasped his hand. Seeing that Yamada Soji did not shake her off, her steps became noticeably lighter.

Moonlight spilled over the desert, stretching the two of their shadows long and far.

Behind them, the lights of Sandview City gradually blurred; ahead lay an endless wilderness.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, ten days had passed.

The straight-line distance from Sandview City to Mount Katsuragi was nearly five hundred li, but the journey over those ten days had been slower than Sōji expected.

On the second day after leaving Sandview, they encountered a group of rogue ninjas at the edge of the desert.

There were seven of them, all around Chunin level. They had likely caught wind of the bounty on the descendants of the Tsuchigumo Clan.

Sōji did not waste words. He efficiently slit their throats with Snakebite.

On the third day, five missing-nin ambushed them in a dried-up riverbed.

Their coordination was fairly decent: two launched a frontal feint, two circled around behind them, while another waited at a higher vantage point with kunai and shuriken.

Sōji used the Hidden Mist Technique to block their vision, then beheaded them one by one within the mist.

Hotaru crouched behind a rock with her ears covered, only peeking out after the mist dispersed.

On the fifth day, people from Sunagakure came in person. There were only three this time, but all of them were Jonin-level ANBU.

They did not make a move. They merely followed from afar, circling behind the group like vultures.

When Sōji stopped, they stopped; when Sōji made camp, they crouched on a hill two li away.

Their stare made Hotaru's skin crawl. She clutched Ugly Treasure as she lay awake that night, and that very night, Sōji snapped their necks.

On the eighth day, a group of unknown black-clad men ambushed them in a canyon.

The Six Eyes swept over them. Their chakra was chaotic and impure; they did not seem like ninjas from any legitimate village, but rather desperadoes hired to do a job.

They wore no forehead protectors, bore no insignias, and did not even know many proper ninjutsu. They relied entirely on their numbers and explosive tags.

Sōji unleashed Who Built the Dam?, scattering their formation, then used Ice Formation to freeze them into a heap of ice sculptures.

His Cursed Energy also surged by a considerable amount at that moment.

Sōji stood where he was, silently looking at the corpses strewn across the ground for several seconds.

Meanwhile, Hotaru hid behind him, her little hand clutching the hem of his clothes so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

She did not cry or scream. She merely followed closely behind him, unwilling to fall even a single step behind.

"Let's go!" Sōji said.

Hotaru nodded and released his clothes, but after taking a few steps, she grabbed hold again.

Sōji said nothing.

On the morning of the tenth day, the outline of Mount Katsuragi appeared on the horizon.

It was not the sort of mountain that rose abruptly into the sky, but rather a series of rolling hills layered one atop another, like the wrinkled skin of the earth after someone had kneaded it.

The terrain was not particularly treacherous, but it was dense and sprawling, mountains connected to mountains and valleys nested within valleys.

The vegetation transitioned from sparse shrubs at the foot of the mountain to dense forest halfway up, then to mist-shrouded coniferous woods higher above. The treetops merged into a dark green blanket that tightly wrapped the entire mountain.

Wind blew out from the valleys, carrying the scent of soil and rotting leaves, along with a faint trace of sulfur.

It was said that deep within Mount Katsuragi lay geothermal springs, which was one reason the Tsuchigumo Clan had lived here for generations.

The land nourished by the hot springs was more fertile than elsewhere, and the streams in the mountains never froze throughout the year. Even in the driest season, a thin mist drifted between the roots at the bottom of the valleys.

"Mr. Sōji, we're here."

Standing atop a rock, Hotaru rose onto her tiptoes and peered into the mountains. "Over there, that little path—I recognize it."

Sōji looked in the direction she pointed.

A narrow trail, half-hidden by weeds, wound up from the mountain's base and disappeared into the depths of the dense forest.

Irregular bluestone slabs paved the path, their cracks filled with ferns and moss. It was clearly in a state of long neglect.

Yet the arrangement of the slabs still followed a pattern. One was laid every three chi, each roughly the same size, their edges polished smooth. This was not some wild trail casually paved by mountain folk, but a road someone had once carefully constructed.

"This road used to be very wide."

Hotaru's voice lowered, as if she were speaking to herself. "Grandpa said that lots of people used to take this road to come up the mountain for medical treatment, divination, and to learn secret arts. Later, they stopped coming."

Sōji merely nodded indifferently and did not ask further. He was not interested in such things.

The two of them followed the trail up the mountain.

The road was even more dilapidated up close. Some stone slabs had already shattered, exposing the dirt beneath.

Others had been pushed up by tree roots, tilting crookedly into the air. Several stretches had been completely buried by collapsed rocks, forcing them to detour along the steep slopes beside them.

Hotaru walked carefully, placing every step firmly, but her pace grew faster and faster.

As they neared the mountainside, the dense forest suddenly opened up.

Before them lay a fan-shaped clearing, as though someone had gouged a slash into the mountainside and forcibly carved out a flat terrace.

More than a dozen houses were scattered across the terrace. They were wooden structures with thatched roofs, old-fashioned in style but sturdy.

The most striking sight was the enormous ginkgo tree in the center of the terrace. Its trunk was so thick that even three to five people could not encircle it. Its canopy blotted out the sky, and its golden leaves glowed softly in the afternoon light.

Beneath the ginkgo tree sat someone—an old man.

The wrinkles on his face resembled a dried riverbed, etched into his skin in deep lines.

His hair was entirely white, sparse and flattened against his scalp like withered winter grass.

He wore a faded gray robe and sat cross-legged against the tree roots. A cane rested across his knees, his hands folded over its handle, his eyes closed as if he were dozing.

But Sōji knew he was not asleep.

The Six Eyes beneath the black cloth faintly heated up. Within the old man's body was a massive mass of chakra.

It was not the flowing chakra of ordinary ninjas, distributed throughout their chakra pathways, but a single condensed mass like a bomb stuffed into his chest.

It was wrapped in countless layers of sealing formulas, densely packed atop one another, cocooned as tightly as a silkworm chrysalis.

Those sealing formulas were identical to the ones on Hotaru's back.

"Grandpa!"

Hotaru released Sōji's clothes and ran toward the ginkgo tree.

Her steps were hurried. She tripped over a tree root and staggered two steps, nearly falling, but she steadied herself and kept running. When she reached the old man, however, she suddenly stopped.

She stood there, clutching the hem of her clothes. Her lips moved, but no words came out.

The old man opened his eyes.

His cloudy dark brown eyes were bloodshot as he looked at his granddaughter before him for a long time.

Long enough for the wind to blow several ginkgo leaves loose. The golden leaves spun through the air, landing on Hotaru's shoulder and then on the old man's knees.

"You're back?"

The old man's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against rough wood. There was no surprise, no reproach, not even much emotion—only three simple words.

Hotaru's tears fell.

She nodded forcefully and wiped her face just as hard, but the more she wiped, the more tears came. In the end, she simply stopped wiping them and stood before the old man, crying so hard her entire body trembled.

"Grandpa, I'm sorry. I... I ran away..." Her voice broke between sobs. "I was disobedient... I..."

"You've suffered a lot, haven't you?" The old man pulled Hotaru into his arms, his heart aching. "You've gotten so thin."

"Mm... I suffered so much... I went days without food... and my feet were rubbed raw..."

"But later, an older brother took me in... He was very good to me... He taught me ninjutsu... and bought me things too..."

"I... I missed home..."

The old man stretched out a hand, his bony palm covered in age spots, and gently placed it atop Hotaru's head. "It's good that you're back. It's good that you're back..."

At last, Hotaru could no longer hold back. She threw herself into the old man's arms and burst into loud sobs.

The old man did not move. He merely rested his hand on the back of her head and stroked it gently, slowly, as if soothing a frightened little beast.

Sōji stood at a distance without approaching. Ugly Treasure poked its head out from around his waist and whimpered, but Sōji reached out and pressed its head back down.