The peace did not last long.
Early in the morning three days later, Luna was practicing Chakra in the open space behind the shrine when a prompt she had never seen before suddenly popped up in her mind without warning.
It was a message box glowing with a pale golden light:
[Destiny Node Prompt]
Key plot nodes are detected to be triggered in the near future.
Current regional safety factor evaluation: Low (continuously declining).
Suggestion: Immediately move eastward and look for a new safe foothold.
Hint: Certain encounters are destined to happen on the road.
Luna stared at the prompt for a long time.
Unlike the cold, mechanical prompts from before, the tone of this prompt…
seemed to be pointing the way for her.
Go east.
Her fingers instinctively felt for the neatly folded note in her pocket, the one the old man had left her.
Go east, don’t look back.
The same direction.
Luna closed the system panel, stood up, patted the dirt off her hands, and walked back to the shrine.
When she reached the doorway, she found that Yahiko was already awake.
Instead of going out on patrol as usual, he was sitting by the campfire with the old map captured from the Iwagakure Ninja spread out in front of him, his brows tightly furrowed as his fingertips gently tapped a spot on the map.
Hearing Luna’s footsteps, he raised his head, his gaze a bit more complex than usual.
“Luna, you’ve come just in time,” he beckoned.
“I was just looking to discuss something with you all.”
His tone made Luna’s heart skip a beat.
She walked over and sat down by the campfire.
Konan and Nagato were also called over, Konan still holding a half-folded paper flower in her hand, and Nagato silently putting down the wooden stick he was whittling.
The four of them sat around the map, the firelight casting their shadows against the scarred wall.
Yahiko did not beat around the bush and got straight to the point.
“I’ve been out scouting the perimeter a few times over the past few days.” His voice was a bit deeper than usual, lacking its habitual lightness.
“There are traces of Ninja activities in the west and north—not just one or two, but in teams, ranging from three to five or six people at a time. Once, I was lying behind an earthen slope and saw with my own eyes an Iwagakure squad passing along a ridge less than two hundred meters away, their blades still stained with wet blood.”
“It’s no longer safe for us here. Those Ninja aren’t just passing by… No matter the reason, if they thoroughly search this forest, this shrine won’t stay hidden for long.”
His finger traced a line pointing to an area further east on the map.
“Here… close to the border of the Land of Fire. I’ve compared it with the captured map, and the markings in this direction are the fewest, indicating that the frequency of engagement is relatively low. There’s been no news of large-scale combat over there yet, and…”
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the three people:
“The east is close to rivers, has an abundant water supply, and the terrain is more complex. If we encounter danger, it will be easier to find a place to hide.”
His finger landed on a blank area on the map without any symbols marked, his tone carrying an unquestionable decisiveness:
“We have to move. Leave the shrine and head east.”
After these words were spoken, the air around the campfire fell silent for a few seconds.
No one showed an expression of surprise.
In fact, everyone knew in their hearts that although this shrine had given them a few months of peace, it could never become their permanent home.
From the moment the first wave of refugees poured into the forest, from the moment those Iwagakure Ninja lingered outside the shrine, from the moment they saw four rain-soaked corpses in that depression, everyone had a faint premonition in their hearts.
Leaving was only a matter of time.
Konan was the first to respond.
She looked down at the half-folded paper flower in her hand, fell silent for a few seconds, and then gently nodded: “I agree. It’s indeed… getting more and more dangerous here.”
Nagato didn’t speak, but he also nodded.
His gaze subconsciously glanced at the wall carved with Uzumaki runes.
Over the past few months, he would look at those runes for a while every day, trying to understand something.
But in the end, he couldn’t make anything out.
Watching the location pointed to by Yahiko on the map, a strange flutter welled up in Luna’s heart.
That location was close to the border of the Land of Fire.
It was precisely the direction where the third red circle on that map was located.
And it was also the direction she had faintly guessed in her heart all along.
She took a deep breath: “I agree too.”
Seeing that none of the three objected, Yahiko visibly breathed a sigh of relief.
He put away his serious expression, resumed his usual decisive and action-oriented style, clapped his hands, and stood up:
“Alright. Then we’ll pack our things today and set off early tomorrow morning. Bring only the essentials; leave behind whatever we won’t use.”
That day, the four of them spent an entire morning packing their luggage.
There were many more things than when they moved from the cave to the shrine: three Kunai, a dozen shuriken, a roll of bandages, a small bag of rice and a small packet of salt, a few changes of barely wearable clothes, the stack of paper treasured by Konan and the string of paper butterflies she hung on the crossbeam, the captured short sword and map, the Kunai polished by Luna, the bone needle and linen thread left behind by the old man… Find the original chapter at novelping dot com.
Every single item was part of the possessions they had accumulated bit by bit in this war-torn land.
Yahiko squatted in the corner, weighed the broken sword that had never been fixed in his hand, and finally put it down.
“We can’t take it, it’s too heavy.”
He thought about it for a moment, picked it up again, and hid it in a corner: “Maybe we can come back to get it later.”
Luna counted her belongings once more, then refolded the slip of paper that read “Go east, don’t look back” and tucked it safely into the inner pocket of her clothes.
She thought for a moment, picked up one of Konan’s folded paper butterflies from the ground—the one with slightly crooked wings that she had folded first—and stuffed it into her pocket as well.
In the evening, the four of them had their last meal in the shrine.
The meal was very simple; the rice grains had bottomed out, and the pot was mostly wild vegetables and water, with not even enough dare to add much salt.
But everyone ate very quietly, finishing everything in their bowls cleanly.
After the meal, Yahiko took a piece of charcoal, walked up to the pillar at the entrance of the shrine, and drew the final line on it.
Adding the previous three—the first time wandering Ninja, the second time the Iwagakure trio, the third time a lone Iwagakure—there were now a total of seven charcoal marks on the pillar.
Seven brushes with life and death.
From the cave to the shrine, over four months, seven times.
Yahiko looked at the carvings, fell silent for a moment, then turned around and grinned at the three of them:
“Alright. This pillar is full.”
“Let’s go,” he said.
“In the new place, we’ll start drawing again.”
…
Early the next morning, before the sky was fully bright, the four of them set off.
Carrying a small bundle tied with rags on her back, Luna walked in the middle of the group.
Tucked inside her bosom were the Kunai and the map, while her pocket held the paper butterfly and the note.
After walking a few steps, she couldn’t help but look back.
The dilapidated shrine stood quietly in the morning mist and rain curtain, the Uzumaki runes on the wall faintly visible in the dim light.
On the pillar in front of the door, the seven charcoal marks had been slightly dampened by the rain, but were still clearly visible.
Luna looked for a few seconds.
Then she turned around, quickening her pace to catch up with the group ahead.
The road ahead stretched out into the rain curtain, its end invisible.