Outside the temple near Sunagakure, the usual bustling flow of worshippers was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, dozens of monks dressed in gray-blue robes, ranging from the young to the elderly, stood solemnly on both sides of the road leading to the temple courtyard.
At the front of the path, several shinobi wearing Sunagakure forehead protectors and white cloth wraps on their heads were slowly carrying a casket made of nanmu wood.
The dark red casket, faintly inlaid with gold trim, was clearly a rare and precious item.
Moreover, this casket was unique in its design. Unlike the usual rectangular shape meant for a reclining body, this one was a cube, far too small to hold an adult of normal stature.
When some of the more experienced monks saw this "cabinet-style" casket, their expressions turned to surprise and admiration. A dignified monk stepped forward to greet the shinobi from Sunagakure.
Upon seeing the casket, the corner of his eye twitched slightly, but the emotion quickly disappeared.
"Thank you all for your efforts."
Master Enkōka's expression was tinged with sorrow, but his demeanor remained impeccably respectful. He stepped forward to bow deeply to the shinobi.
"Ah, Master, no need to be so formal!"
An older Sunagakure shinobi stepped forward and returned the bow.
"Master Bunpuku spent his life silently dedicating himself to the village, enduring criticism and misunderstanding. It's our village that owes him a great debt..."
After speaking, the shinobi turned toward the casket, clasped his hands together, and bowed respectfully.
"A hundred years of life, fleeting as a moment. Every encounter, every joy or sorrow, is dictated by the heart. To see through it, to let go, is to realize that all is but a flower in the mirror, a moon in the water. The myriad colors of the mortal world, though dazzling, are not eternal..."
"Master Bunpuku passed away peacefully. His heart must have already seen through it all. We need not grieve too deeply."
Master Enkōka murmured deeply, his voice filled with profound emotion. After speaking, he closed his eyes and bowed deeply to the casket.
The conversation ended quickly. Under Master Enkōka's direction, the casket was carefully handed over to several monks, who carried it into the temple under the watchful eyes of their peers.
The Sunagakure shinobi lingered for a moment before slowly departing under the lead of their captain.
At the rear of the shinobi procession, a young ninja finally revealed a puzzled expression.
He glanced cautiously at the leader ahead, ensuring there was a significant distance between them, before whispering to his companion beside him:
"Hey?"
"Isn't he just some old monk possessed by a demon? I heard he's been locked up since my grandfather's generation..."
"What kind of contribution could he have possibly made to the village? Why are the captain and those monks acting like this?"
His companion immediately shot him a disdainful look, side-eyeing the ignorant young ninja.
"I've told you before, you need to read more! You never listen!"
"As a shinobi, you need to broaden your knowledge! Otherwise, you'll be stuck as a Genin your whole life!"
"Not all heroes stand in the light. The most admirable ones are those who, from a young age, have fought despair alone in the darkness, sobbing in silence."
"He... He is the lone warrior of Sunagakure!"
That day, the chanting of sutras echoed throughout the temple, continuing into the night.
Late at night, beneath the ginkgo tree, a gentle breeze stirred, causing the branches and leaves to rustle softly.
An elderly monk shuffled back to his room, his steps slow and unsteady. When he saw the tightly closed door, his heart tightened.
Because whenever Sōmi was not out on a mission, the room would always be brightly lit.
And whenever he opened the door, a familiar and affectionate voice would greet him.
"Sōmi... Is this destiny's arrangement?"
The old monk murmured softly, his gaze drifting into the distance, where the faint lights of Sunagakure could be seen.
For a long while, the old monk stood there before finally returning to his room. The light inside flickered on.
But the room was no longer filled with the lively, youthful laughter it once held. Instead, the air was filled with the solemn sound of sutras being chanted.
If any other monks passed by, they would notice that the sutras being recited were different from those in the main hall. The chants coming from within the room were clearly prayers of blessing.
The next day, in a desolate wasteland far from the village, Sōmi lay sprawled on the fine sand, snoring loudly.
Not far behind him stood three people, all wearing serious expressions.
"Lord Kazekage! Do you think Sōmi will succeed?"
Rasa couldn't help but ask. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, it was clear that being dragged here by the Kazekage and Sōmi had left him with little rest the previous night.
"He will. Believe in him!"
The Third Kazekage, dressed not in his usual Kazekage robes but in a sky-blue shinobi uniform, appeared particularly sharp and ready for action.
Beside him, Sasori remained silent, inspecting several scrolls in his hands.
As the sun climbed high into the sky, its scorching rays pierced through the layers of sand, casting a burning light directly onto Sōmi's face.
"Ahhh!"
Sōmi stretched lazily as he woke, scratching his head. Still half-asleep, he reached into his pouch and pulled out a small sealing scroll.
After unsealing it, the scroll released toiletries and a small basin of clear water.
Rasa stared in stunned silence as Sōmi crouched on the ground, brushing his teeth. Every now and then, he spat water to the side with a casual "Ah la la," humming an unfamiliar tune as he went.
Rasa struggled to shift his gaze toward the Third Kazekage. Although the Kazekage's expression remained unchanged, the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his inner thoughts.
Only Sasori, having grown accustomed to Sōmi's antics during missions, remained unfazed.
"To remain this calm in the face of a life-and-death mission, one that determines the village's future... Perhaps he really is confident," Rasa thought to himself, quietly admiring Sōmi's composure.
He knew that if it were him in Sōmi's position, he would never be able to maintain such a state of mind.
Even if it were just a matter of the village gaining a new Jinchūriki, he would be watching them like a hawk, never as relaxed as Sōmi.
Finally, after finishing his morning routine, Sōmi stood up. With a flick of his fingers, the Starfall Rod landed in his hand. Feeling the surging Chakra and the warmth emanating from the rod, he gripped it tightly.
Deep crimson sparks flickered from the rod's surface, as if ready to ignite Sōmi's entire being.
He crouched down, pressing one hand against the ground, sensing the immense reserves of gold sand flowing beneath the surface, infused with sealing power. A sense of security filled his heart.
Turning to the three behind him, Sōmi gave a slight nod. Then, shifting his gaze to the black teapot that had been sitting quietly for so long, his eyes suddenly gleamed with a fierce light—a battle spirit that was unstoppable!
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
Weekly Stable Updates with 30+ Chapters Always Available. High-Quality and Consistent Translations Are the Channel's Top Priority.
Current Books:
Naruto: Deidara's Struggle
God-Tier Kazekage: Building the Ultimate Hidden Sand Village
Naruto: The Ōtsutsuki Bloodline Development Manual
One Piece:The True Codex
One Piece: Rising to Fleet Admiral Through a Coup
👉patreon.com/GoldenLong