The forest at night was unusually quiet.
The subtle sounds of wind and cicadas that should have been present had vanished, leaving only a faint scent of blood drifting in the air, accompanied by the mournful cries of an unknown bird.
In the night sky, a sliver of moonlight pierced through the dense foliage, illuminating Ayato’s pale face.
He didn’t know how long he had carried Madara on his back; he only knew that his consciousness seemed to be growing increasingly hazy.
Body temperature dissipated too quickly at night; he couldn’t keep going like this.
Ayato lightly bit the tip of his tongue.
The metallic taste of blood filling his mouth was the best stimulant right now.
He found a slightly concave cliff face, gently set Madara down, then pulled several Kunai from his ninja tool pouch, sticking them into the grass around them according to a specific pattern.
Then, he formed an incredibly long sequence of hand signs.
“Genjutsu: Earth Binding Array.”
This was a C-rank Genjutsu he had drawn from the system.
Not only were the hand signs cumbersome and lengthy, but it also required setting up an array beforehand using Kunai to activate.
And its effect was merely to confuse the vision of anyone outside the array.
When Ayato first drew it, he thought he would never use it in his life.
Who would have thought?
Life really is like a box of chocolates; you never know what situation you’ll face next.
“What kind of Ninjutsu is that?”
Madara woke up just as Ayato set him down.
The night was deep, and visibility wasn’t great.
He saw Ayato walking around with Kunai, initially thinking he was setting a trap.
Later, when he saw Ayato sit on the ground, forming hand signs as fast as a butterfly flitting among flowers, taking a minute or two for a single sequence, Madara was confused.
What was he doing?
Judging by Ayato’s speed in forming seals, Madara estimated that the technique had hundreds of hand signs.
What Ninjutsu requires such a long sequence of seals?
It’s probably longer than the enemy’s lifespan.
“It’s a Genjutsu,” Ayato explained, glancing at Madara.
“It can achieve the effect of disrupting vision without using Chakra.
Although it’s weak, we don’t have a better option right now.”
After a period of activity, Ayato felt hungry.
“Do you still have any military rations pills in your pouch?
If not, eat mine.
You haven’t eaten all day.”
Ayato took one out of his ninja tool pouch, sat next to Madara, and handed it to him, saying, “This Genjutsu can’t block the smell of smoke, so you’ll just have to bear with it.”
Under the dim moonlight, Madara finally noticed that Ayato’s face was terrifyingly pale, and his lips were completely drained of color.
Did he get injured somewhere while saving me?
Seeing Ayato, who looked vastly different from the spirited person he had met the first time, Madara lowered his eyes, which were filled with guilt.
Seeing Madara lying stiffly on the ground without speaking, Ayato turned and popped the military rations pill into his own mouth.
Supplies were scarce; one eaten was one less remaining.
Madara pursed his lips and braced his hands on the ground, trying to sit up, but the countless wounds covering his body immediately taught him a painful lesson.
“Don’t move!
Your injuries are very serious.”
The large movement, however, pulled at the wound on Ayato’s back, making him break out in a cold sweat from the pain.
This is a mine!
A mine I spent so much effort to save!
I can endure this little bit of pain!
“I’m sorry,”
Perhaps having never apologized before, Madara looked extremely embarrassed, unable even to meet Ayato’s eyes: “I dragged you into this.”
“What nonsense are you talking about?” Ayato rolled his eyes, looking speechlessly at Madara.
“Didn’t you run into this situation because you were delivering the Alliance Treaty?”
“If anyone should apologize, shouldn’t it be me?”
Ayato endured the pain and said softly, “If our Hagoromo Clan had strengthened our intelligence confidentiality management or increased patrols, those Uchiha people wouldn’t have died.”
Hearing Ayato mention this, Madara’s eyes dimmed slightly.
Although he hadn’t spent much time with them and rarely talked to them within the clan, the sight of those people fighting with all their might to protect him during the day was still deeply etched in Madara’s mind.
Just because I am the young clan head, is that reason enough for you to protect me so recklessly?
Seeing Madara’s increasingly troubled expression, Ayato hastily added, “If we really want to assign blame, we should blame the Sarutobi and Shimura clans.
If they hadn’t stirred up trouble, how would we have formed an alliance?
And how would you have encountered this?”
Madara, if you must blame someone, blame those two piles of crap, Sarutobi and Shimura.
I am your savior; you mustn’t hold a grudge against the Hagoromo Clan.
“Mhm, I know—*cough, cough*”
The moment Madara spoke, his body began to shake with uncontrollable coughing.
Suddenly, a cold hand rested on his forehead.
Madara glanced sideways and saw Ayato touching his own forehead with one hand and Madara’s forehead with the other, muttering, “You haven’t caught a cold, have you?
You were sweating a lot just now.”
“That won’t do.
If you catch a cold now, you could die.”
Without warning, Ayato pulled Madara into his embrace.
Madara, who was utterly bewildered, belatedly tried to struggle free but accidentally pulled Ayato’s wound, causing Ayato to cry out in pain: “Don’t move!
It hurts!”
That sentence made Madara’s body stiffen.
He had forgotten that Ayato was also injured.
After a long silence, Madara muttered, “Let go of me first.”
“No,” Ayato flatly refused.
“Your body is starting to show symptoms of hypothermia, but lighting a fire now carries the risk of exposure, so I can only warm you up like this.”
“But your body is cold too.”
“Because my body is starting to suffer from hypothermia too.”
Saying this, Ayato rested his chin on Madara’s spiky head.
With so much hair, it should be a little warmer: “That’s why we need to hold each other even tighter, to try and prevent our body temperatures from dropping further.”
Ayato’s words made Madara stop struggling.
He felt Ayato’s reasoning was sound, and he also didn’t dare move, afraid of pulling Ayato’s wound again.
“Probably.”
“Thank you.” Madara’s voice was barely audible.
Semi-conscious, Ayato heard the word and woke up slightly, thinking he had misheard: “What?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.
Go to sleep.
I’m so tired.”
Ayato’s hoarse voice carried obvious fatigue.
Realizing this, Madara’s cheeks flushed.
He had been unconscious all day and had just woken up, so he was full of energy, but he had forgotten that Ayato hadn’t rested all day.
“I’m sorry.”
Madara fell silent, and Ayato was glad to close his eyes and rest.
For a time, the two fell into silence.
In such a quiet environment, Madara could even clearly hear Ayato’s heartbeat and the warm sound of breathing coming from above his head.
For some reason, this feeling made him feel very secure.
Madara lay quietly in Ayato’s arms with his eyes open until a magnificent morning glow appeared in the east, and the golden sun slowly leaped out from behind the clouds.
The darkness receded, and dawn gradually broke.
The warm morning light freely pierced the thin mist, illuminating the dense branches in a brilliant gold.
Suddenly, Madara heard faint footsteps approaching their location.
“Ayato, someone is coming.
Wake up.”
Seeing that Ayato didn’t respond, Madara stopped talking.
He quietly reached for the ninja tool pouch behind him, ready to fight at any moment.
“Earth Binding Array?”
Fortunately, the person outside spoke the name of a familiar Ninjutsu, allowing Madara’s tense body to relax slightly.
Anyone who could recognize this bizarre Ninjutsu must be an ally.
Sure enough, the Genjutsu was broken shortly after.
Madara saw a Hagoromo Clan youth walking towards them, holding the Kunai Ayato had used to cast the technique the night before.
“Ayato, what—what happened?!”
The youth only took one look, then suddenly rushed forward with an anxious expression, shoved Madara aside, and tightly embraced Ayato.
Madara was violently shoved onto the ground.
Just as he was about to get angry, he saw the youth who had held him and warmed him last night.
His pale face was completely devoid of color, and his grayish-white clan robes were stained black by the blood flowing from the wound on his back.
At this moment, he lay quietly in his clan member’s arms, silent, just—just like—like a corpse—Seeing this scene, Madara’s mind went completely blank with a loud ringing sound.
‘Were you sweating?’
‘I can only warm you up like this.’
‘My body is starting to suffer from hypothermia too.’
Recalling the conversation from last night, Madara slumped onto the ground in despair.
What have I been doing?
Why didn’t I notice that Ayato was injured so severely?
Why were we so close, yet I couldn’t even smell the blood?