God-Tier Kazekage: Building the Ultimate Hidden Sand Village

Sōmi gripped the Starfall Rod tightly, feeling the warm energy coursing through it and the abundant Chakra it now held after being restored.

The violet-blue surface of the rod was now free of any runic seals or inscriptions.

Before he had fallen unconscious, Sōmi had entrusted the Starfall Rod to Sasori, asking him to seal away the "Sword of Ninja Love" technique that Minato Namikaze had inscribed on it.

The last thing Sōmi wanted was for Minato to suddenly appear before him while he was incapacitated, decapitating him with a kunai or smashing his skull with a Rasengan.

After regaining consciousness a few days ago, Sōmi had devoted himself to unraveling the seal Minato had placed on the Starfall Rod.

What Minato had effortlessly set up with a mere touch had taken Sōmi an agonizingly long time to decipher. It was like trying to find the loose end of a tangled ball of thread. Only after a painstaking amount of time had he managed to break the seal and restore the rod's original functionality.

As he worked, Sōmi couldn't help but grumble in frustration while simultaneously marveling at Minato's mastery of sealing techniques. The gap between their abilities was staggering. Minato's talent in sealing arts was nothing short of extraordinary, a shining testament to the Uzumaki Clan's legacy.

Once the "Sword of Ninja Love" technique had been carefully removed, Sōmi finally felt a sense of relief. Without a solid foundation in sealing techniques, even identifying the technique would have been an insurmountable challenge.

As for casually erasing the technique, Sōmi knew that was still far beyond his current abilities.

"Let's go, Sasori!" Sōmi slung the Starfall Rod diagonally across his back and addressed Sasori, who had just finished handling his discharge paperwork. Without waiting for a response, Sōmi strode out of the hospital room.

Having ended up hospitalized after two consecutive battles, Sōmi's current predicament highlighted the awkward stage of his abilities.

However, now that he had completed the contract with Ryūchi Cave, he was confident that the next time he faced Konoha's ninja, he would give them a surprise they wouldn't forget.

He silently vowed never to return to this wretched place again.

As Sasori watched Sōmi's retreating figure, a mix of sympathy and admiration welled up in his heart. At least Sasori still had living relatives—his grandmother Chiyo and granduncle Ebizō.

With the hope of resurrecting his parents now within reach, Sasori felt fortunate. In contrast, Sōmi had no family left at all.

Happiness, after all, is often born of comparison. And when compared to a close friend, the feelings it evokes become even more pronounced.

It's like how many people wish their true friends well, but secretly hope they don't do better than themselves.

The two walked side by side down the street, the faint sound of the wind blending with the soft murmurs of street vendors calling out their wares.

Seeing Sasori glancing around, Sōmi couldn't help but ask, "Sasori, are you looking for that uncle who sells horse sausages again?"

"Ever since the war broke out, he hasn't shown up for a long time..." Sasori replied, his face showing a hint of disappointment as they passed the spot where the sausage vendor used to stand.

"But that dish we tried in the Land of Artisans last time—the Stargazy Pie—was pretty good. We should find an opportunity to try it again!" Sasori added after some thought.

At the mention of that name, Sōmi's mind conjured up the image of seven pairs of fish eyes, glowing eerily as they stared at him from all angles. The hollow gaze of those eyes seemed to reflect the profound and infinite depths of the starry sky.

The memory of that dish's overly salty, fishy, and slimy texture resurfaced on his tongue. Swallowing it had felt like choking on a lump of sticky phlegm. Sōmi couldn't help but gag slightly, his throat itching at the mere thought.

"No thanks, Sasori!"

"It's not a good time to travel far right now. Let's focus on researching the Summoning: Impure World Reincarnation technique. When you're on missions, start capturing some sacrifices to store away. We can use them for experiments later," Sōmi quickly changed the subject, redirecting Sasori's attention to other matters.

The streets were sparsely populated, and after reaching a fork in the road, the two parted ways, each heading in a different direction.

Outside Sunagakure, an ancient temple stood amidst the barren landscape. Smoke from incense curled upward, carrying the prayers and wishes of the people. The wisps of smoke intertwined as they rose, only to be scattered by the gusting winds.

"Master Yenjin!" Sōmi called out warmly to a middle-aged monk standing at the temple's entrance. He bounded up the long flight of stairs in just a few strides.

"You're on duty here today?"

"Oh! Sōmi, you're back? Yes, I'm on duty today," Yenjin replied with a smile.

"Your master has been talking about you quite a bit lately, especially after hearing about our village's defeat in the war. Even the Third Kazekage returned severely injured. Are you alright?" Yenjin asked, giving Sōmi a once-over.

"Don't worry, Master Yenjin! Even if I can't win, I can always run. If something had happened to me, I wouldn't be standing here now, would I?" Sōmi replied with a grin.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, a couple approached Yenjin. They bowed respectfully to the monk and stood silently, as if they had something to ask but hesitated to speak in Sōmi's presence.

Understanding their intentions, Sōmi bid Yenjin farewell and entered the temple.

Inside the main hall, a towering statue of the Buddha stood against the wall, its golden surface radiating a sacred and majestic aura.

Its solemn expression seemed to gaze indifferently upon the world, while the offering table before it was piled high with tributes.

Devout worshippers knelt and bowed continuously, their lips moving in silent prayers. Their faces were painted with expressions of sorrow, hope, or longing.

Among them were children brought by their elders. Their innocent eyes took in everything with curiosity, but once the novelty wore off, they turned their attention to the sweets in their hands.

In their simple and unrefined world, the allure of those rigid statues paled in comparison to the immediate gratification of sugary treats.

Sōmi weaved through the crowd, the scent of incense brushing against his face. The orange glow of candlelight reflected in his eyes.

In the rear courtyard, a tall ginkgo tree stood proudly, adding a touch of spring vitality to the temple. From afar, it looked as if the temple were draped in a green veil.

The tree's dense, beautiful leaves resembled small, fan-shaped blossoms—vivid green and tender yellow, with many still budding as tiny green dots.

A gentle breeze rustled through the branches, producing a soft "sha-sha-sha" sound. The melody was like a harmonious symphony, contrasting sharply with the solemnity of the main hall.

"Master!"

A loud, clear voice broke the tranquility.

An elderly monk with white eyebrows stood beneath the tree, gazing thoughtfully at its branches. Hearing the call, his face lit up with a smile.

Sōmi approached the old monk and embraced him gently.

The sudden gesture caused the old monk's smile to falter briefly. But he quickly returned the embrace, wrapping his frail hands around Sōmi's back.

"Welcome home," the old monk said softly.

~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~

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