Naruto: Starting as the Third Hokage with Tears in His Eyes

Chapter 516 Night Run, The Shadow's Will Extends

The moonlight was faint, its brilliance largely obscured by the clouds high above.

In the dense forest bordering the Land of Fire and the Land of Fields, three figures silently swept through the treetops.

Extremely fast.

Each time my toes touched the branch, it lasted no more than half a breath, yet not a single leaf swayed.

Sakumo Hatake, who was walking at the front, suddenly raised his left hand.

He pressed his five fingers together and down two inches.

The two auras behind them almost simultaneously converged to their maximum extent.

The three of them switched from running at full speed to gliding at a constant speed, and the sound of their footsteps went from almost nothing to completely silent.

Shuo Mao's gaze swept across the tree canopy layer a hundred meters ahead.

No exception.

The gray sparrow flew up from its nest and landed again, leaving the moss on the tree trunk intact and untouched.

The air was filled with the smell of pine resin and decaying leaves—no metal, no blood, no people.

But he waited five more seconds.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

The wind blows. The branches sway. Birds sing.

Four seconds, five seconds.

There was nothing there.

Sakumo Hatake withdrew his left hand, put his index and middle fingers together, and tapped them twice in front of him.

—Safe. Continue.

The three of them picked up speed again.

The formation remained unchanged.

Sakumo was in front, Danzo was a few positions behind on the left flank, and Uchiha Kagami was at the very back on the right flank.

An isosceles triangle.

The distance between each side is exactly the limit of their three teleportations in a single movement using the Instantaneous Movement Technique.

This distance was measured by Danzo using a rolling pin before he set off.

In his own words: "Absolutely foolproof, prepared for any eventuality. Not a centimeter more, not a centimeter less."

Sakumo Hatake remained silent for a long time as he watched him squatting on the ground pulling the ruler.

He only said one sentence in the end.

"You measure it."

-

The wind came from the west, carrying a dry, astringent scent.

The further southwest you go, the less moisture there is in the air.

The moist, grassy air of the heart of the Land of Fire is being stripped away little by little.

Instead, there is the lingering heat of the sun-dried soil and the faint astringent smell from afar.

Sakumo's nose twitched.

This smell reminded him of the days when he was stationed at the Eye of the West.

Scorpions on the sand, a watchtower under the scorching sun.

And the silly way Inuzuka Tsubasa was frantically running around because his ninja dog had heatstroke.

He later turned those sand scorpions into stir-fried sand scorpion legs with soy sauce.

While scolding him for not doing his job properly, Lu Jiao ate three plates, and even snatched the last plate from Qu Feng.

We passed through another grove of cedar trees.

Shuo Mao's gaze inadvertently swept over the soil beneath his feet—thick humus, dark in color, and soft to the touch, with an estimated pH between 5.5 and 6.

Growing blueberries would be a good idea.

The moment that thought popped into his head, he mentally kicked himself.

I'm on a mission. What are you thinking about, blueberries?

But the brain is a tricky thing to do.

I wonder how the winter wheat is germinating this year.

The expansion project of the constant temperature barrier greenhouse should have been completed, but he didn't have time to inspect the quality of the last batch of Fire Release Technique array inscriptions before he left.

Although Uchiha Tetsuka was meticulous, the newly transferred young Uchiha ninjas were not steady enough.

The uniformity of chakra output is always a little off—a fluctuation of 0.5%, which is negligible in battle, but in maintaining a barrier, it's a matter of temperature fluctuations of two degrees.

That's enough to make a row of newly sprouted leafy vegetables burst open.

Is that guy, Deer Antlers, reliable?

He verbally agreed to help keep an eye on things, but the person wished he could sleep twenty hours a day.

And also, take the wind—never let him run off to nibble on the grass next to the wheat seedlings to "test the taste."

He did this before.

He claimed he was trying to understand the competitive environment of the crops, but he ended up having diarrhea for three days and refused to leave the farm clinic, insisting it was a work injury and that he wanted to take a day off.

Sakumo's lips curled up slightly in a tiny arc, then quickly flattened again.

"I can hear water ahead."

He spoke.

Danzo Shimura's response was almost immediate: "A stream?"

"The river isn't big."

Shuo Mao did not slow down, but his ears turned slightly to catch the more subtle information in the sound of the water—the sound of stones being struck and the low murmur of the current.

"To cross or to go around?"

Sakumo Hatake did not answer immediately.

The three of them slowed down simultaneously, like a taut bowstring smoothly releasing its tension.

The next moment, the canopy of trees disappeared overhead, and moonlight poured down.

A shallow river lies across our view.

The water surface shimmered with a cold white light in the moonlight, and several black rocks protruded from the water in the middle of the river, like chess pieces that had been placed and forgotten on a chessboard.

Shuo Mao had landed on a blue stone on the riverbank.

Kneel on one knee and dip your right index finger into the water.

cold.

Feel the water flowing smoothly from left to right at a steady pace with your fingertips—gentle, without any undercurrents.

The pebbles on the riverbed rolled beneath my fingertips; the pebbles were uniform in size and free of silt.

He pulled his hand away and shook the water droplets off his fingertips.

"Crossing."

The three landed one after the other.

The moonlight shone on the river, shattering into countless silver flakes that swayed gently with the ripples.

The pebbles on the shore were moistened by the water vapor, and they gleamed with a damp luster in the night.

Danzo stood three steps behind Sakumo.

He didn't look across the river.

My gaze followed the direction of the water downstream—to the spot where the river bends and disappears into the darkness.

What's the name of this river?

He suddenly asked a question.

Shuo Mao didn't turn his head, his fingers still wiping away the remaining water stains from the edge of his boots.

"I don't know. Why are you asking?"

"The river course is good."

Danzo's tone was as flat as if he were reciting a list of equipment before setting off.

He took a step forward, the toe of his boot pressing down slightly on the muddy ground softened by the water.

It was lifted up again.

I checked the depth of the shoe print.

"If we build an underground irrigation canal from here, and travel thirty kilometers south, it would connect to the irrigation network in the northern part of the Land of Fire—"

Danzo.

Sakumo Hatake stood up.

Water droplets slid from his fingertips, drawing a thin silver line in the moonlight before silently disappearing into the river.

He turned around and looked at his companion who was measuring the width of the river with his eyes.

The curve of his lips was somewhere between helplessness and resignation.

"We are now on our way to Sunagakure for negotiations."

"I know."

"We're not here to survey water conservancy projects."

"I know that too."

Danzo finally turned his gaze away from the river. The moonlight sliced ​​a sharp line into his angular profile, his expression unchanged—calm, precise, and devoid of any superfluous emotion.

Only a final glance at the bend in the river downstream revealed a subtle sense of regret.

That kind of regret when you pass by a good spot but don't have a measuring tape in your pocket.

"Just take a look while you're at it," he said.

There was a very faint sound of wind behind me.

Uchiha Kagami descended from the branch above and landed steadily between the two.

The landing was completely silent; the night wind didn't even change direction because of his appearance.

The faint red tinge in his pupils was fading, and the three tomoe slowly disappeared, returning to a gentle, deep black.

"No abnormalities within 500 meters behind."

The report was concise and accurate.

Then he looked at the scene in front of him—

Sakumo turned slightly to the side, his expression as if he had just swallowed an unripe plum.

Danzo faces the river, arms crossed, chin slightly raised, a composed posture on his face.

Jing chuckled softly.

The laughter was faint and soft.

Like the tiny ripples on the surface of a river when the evening breeze blows—not obvious, but enough to soften the surrounding air.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing much."

Shuo Mao shook the last drop of water off his hands, his tone carrying a sense of helplessness towards his old friend's chronic illness that had accumulated over the years.

"Our Danzo has acted up again."

Danzo didn't even lift his eyelids.

His gaze remained fixed on the bend in the lower reaches of the river, as if a complete set of blueprints for an irrigation canal were hidden there, waiting for him to make a copy.

"What do you mean by 'having an attack'?"

His voice was calm and resolute.

"A qualified ninja should keep an eye on every inch of land he passes through."

Sakumo Hatake did not respond.

He simply looked into the mirror, and their gazes briefly met in the moonlight.

Jing shook her head slightly, a knowing look in her eyes that said, "Forget it, it's not like you just met him yesterday."

Sakumo Hatake sighed.

Extremely light.

Mixed in the night wind, it was almost inaudible.

Under the moonlight, you can see that the pebbles on the riverbed have been polished smooth and round by the water flow. They are white, gray, and occasionally a brownish-red one, like a handful of old chess pieces that have been casually scattered on the riverbed.

Uchiha Kagami took out a neatly folded map from the tool bag at his waist.

The pages rustled very faintly as they unfolded, and the three of them naturally moved closer together.

It wasn't intentional.

It's the tacit understanding built up over decades of walking side by side, an instinct etched into our bodies.

"The terrain in that wooded area ahead is starting to descend."

Jing pointed her fingertip at a contour line on the map, her tone calm and gentle.

"At our current speed, we should be able to reach the main road in the southern part of the Land of Fields in about two more hours. Once we get there, we can find a small town to rest."

He carefully folded the map along its original creases and put it back into his bag.

Then he raised his head.

The three of them looked ahead at the same time.

At the edge of that cedar forest, the colors of the night sky are changing.

The South—is the warm, dark blue of the Land of Fire, with thick, heavy clouds, full of moisture, like a damp velvet cloth spread across the sky.

Ahead—

The sky is becoming clear, dry, and vast.

The stars are brighter than when I came.

That was a light that could only be seen in the extremely dry air at the edge of the desert—sharp, cold, and devoid of any gentleness.

Shuo Mao remained silent.

He simply tightened the scabbard of the white fang dagger behind him a little more.

The touch of his palm against the knife hilt was cool yet familiar, like a silent old friend reminding him—

The road ahead was no longer farmland.