Time flowed like water, passing without pause.
Several months later.
On a straight road near the border of the Land of Fire, a plainly dressed group of travelers hurried along, weary and dust-covered. Judging by their appearance, they were not locals.
Several people dressed as ninja escorted them.
The afternoon sky was rather gloomy, and a thunderstorm looked set to arrive before long.
"Just our luck. The weather turned awful as soon as we entered the Land of Fire. We won't miss the conference, will we?"
"Don't worry, Elder. We're less than half a month's journey from Konoha now, and the invitation says the conference starts in two weeks. We'll pick up the pace once the rain passes. Ito, you're quick on your feet. Scout ahead and see if there's somewhere we can shelter from the rain."
"Yes."
A very thin-looking man acknowledged the order, and his figure vanished from the group in an instant.
He was a ninja, with a Star Forehead Protector on his forehead.
"My apologies. Our group travels slowly, and we've held you up."
"Not at all. Hoshigakure has been isolated from the world for far too long. We'll still have to trouble you to make introductions for us at the Shinobi World Conference Konoha is hosting."
Hoshigakure's jonin was a beautiful red-haired woman named Natsuhi.
"Ah, isolation can be a blessing, too. The war back then was far too brutal. Once ninja villages from small nations like ours were dragged into it, most came to a bad end."
The old man they called Elder stroked his beard and shared his memories with Natsuhi.
"In that Second Shinobi World War you've heard about, the villages of several great nations eventually chose Amegakure as their battlefield. To us, Amegakure was already an extremely powerful ninja village. But